Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
“Oh, no. We’re not doing the armband thing. Dying sucks and all, but fuck that guy.”
Relief hits me like a wave, and the chip falls right off my shoulder as I sigh. “I love you.”
He cracks a smile, and I head to the manager’s office so I can put my purse away and get ready to start my shift.
Shaley is standing inside the office talking to the general manager, Denise, when I get there. Now that I see her, I vaguely remember we’re closing together tonight. They stop talking when I come in, but not in the awkward way that sometimes happens when I walk into a space.
Shaley flashes me a smile. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I return, offering a weak smile.
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
I frown. “Fine?”
“Oh. I got the call to cover for you last night, and I thought you must be sick.”
So much has been going on that it completely slipped my mind that I called off last night. “Oh, right. No, it was a… family emergency.”
Concern flickers across her face. “Is everything okay?”
“It will be,” I say vaguely, not wanting to get into it. “Thank you for covering for me.”
“No problem. I could use the extra money, anyway,” she says with a pleasant smile. “I was just hoping you wouldn’t need covered tonight since we both work, so I wouldn’t be able to fill in for you.”
Denise interrupts, her gaze on me. “The Walters girl came in here with a box full of those armbands to pass out.”
That must be Tessa. I guess she’s not in Paris anymore. “Did you light them on fire?”
“No, but I couldn’t believe they had the audacity to bring them here. They know you work here.”
It’s true, they do.
They don’t come in often, but when they do, I go hide out in the back until they’re gone so I don’t have to be around them.
“Grief makes people dumb,” Shaley says, her tone kind and understanding despite her words.
“They must experience a lot of grief then,” I murmur.
She smiles faintly, then reaches over and gives me a hug I’m unprepared for. “Are you okay? Like, mentally. With everything going on, I figured stuff is probably getting stirred up.”
“I’m living in hell,” I tell her, patting her arm. “But surely they’ll run out of fire soon.”
___
I’m supposed to work the front counter tonight, but it only takes around a half hour for enough people to come in wearing armbands that I switch with Shaley and take drive-thru. It works out better anyway since the dining room closes before the drive-thru does. Considering Shaley covered for me yesterday, I’m sure she won’t mind getting out a half hour early tonight.
About two hours into my shift, as I’m turning toward the counter to grab a dessert from the refrigerated case, my heart nearly stops when I see the customer standing at the front register.
Tor’s gaze finds mine, and a slow smirk tugs at his lips as he looks me over in my work uniform. “I like the hat,” he tells me.
My tone is a bit frosty when I recover from the surprise of seeing him and open the dessert case. “Well, some of us have to work for a living.”
“I wasn’t being facetious. You look cute.”
I close the case and head back to the drive-thru window to finish handing out my order. Once the screen is cleared, I have a quick debate with myself about how I should handle him being here. He’s alone, so I don’t need to hide in the back, but I find my gaze drifting to the paper products to see what needs restocking, anyway.
I don’t know if I can get away with ignoring him. He didn’t exactly respond well in my garage, but we’re not alone here. There are witnesses. He can’t get away with pinning me to a door and choking me until I forgive him.
At least, not right this second, he can’t. It’s not like we’ll never be alone again.
I need more time to decide, so I tell Shaley I’m grabbing side dish containers and head for the back. I don’t stay back there, though. I return a moment later with a sleeve of them, putting half of the sleeve on my side of the counter, and bringing the other half around to stock Shaley’s side.
Since I’m not doing anything and she has a family meal to pack, I grab a container and start scooping in the corn they ordered. Shaley is picking chicken out of the display, and she shoots me a sideways glance as she does.
“You don’t have to help me,” she says, knowing I usually avoid this family. “If you have restocking to do, I can handle it.”
I push down on the lid to seal it, then I reach for a paper bag and put the corn inside.