Page 52 of Falling for my Best Friend

She shrugged. “Do you want me to stay or not?”

“I want you to go home and order Lou Pizzorno’s so it’s there by the time I get home.”

She sighed. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Really.”

She pulled a pair of scissors out of her apron and handed them to me. “Put these in your back pocket in case he gets fresh.”

I turned to face her and leaned against the counter. “I’m not going to pull a pair of scissors on our boss, Fiona. Pack up your station and go home.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do,” I said, turning back to the counter. I took the scissors and combs out of their antiseptic and rinsed them off in the sink. Then I grabbed the broom and left the closet.

Chuck was at the register counting money. I started sweeping the hair from the floor around the chairs, noting once again that the new girl didn’t clean her station properly. I slung her hair dryer and straightener back in their cubbies and resumed sweeping.

When I had all the hair in a pile, I grabbed the dustpan. As I bent over the multicolored mess of hair, I could feel Chuck’s seedy eyes on me, but I didn’t really give a shit. Let him look at my ass. Better than him touching it.

“Can you come here for a second, Lucy? I need a second opinion.”

“Yeah, one sec.” I laid the broom against the closest chair and dumped the contents of the dustpan in the trash before walking over to him. He wheeled his rolling chair back to make space for me, and I stepped in front of the piles of cash. I picked up the first pile and counted the twenties one by one. Then I picked up the stack of tens.

I heard Chuck stand up behind me and look over my shoulder. I could smell the stale smoke on his breath as he watched me count the money.

My heart started beating harder in my chest, but I didn’t want to encourage him or let him get a rise out of me so I focused on counting, laying the bills down one by one.

Then I felt him press his pelvis against my ass.

I could feel that he was aroused. “What the hell are you doing, Chuck?”

“Just watching you work.”

“Watch with your eyes.”

He slipped his hands around my hips.

“Take your hands off me, Chuck. Right now.”

“Or what?”

I set the money down and picked up the phone. “Or I’ll call the police.”

He grabbed my wrist and forced the phone back down, pulling me against him with his other hand. “You’re not fucking calling anyone.”

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