Page 4 of Toy Shop

Better watch what I say next. Keep it short and simple.

“I’ve never used them.”

“These in particular?”

“No.” I grab a pen, doodling on a piece of paper to focus on anything. Just not the brutal honesty clamoring in my chest. If I stick to toys, I won’t have to expose the other, deeper, painful parts of my history. “Nothing, ever.”

“Huh.”

“Huh.” Reiterating the word is my one remaining weapon left to face this situation. It’s not as if I can ask the ground to swallow me whole.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” I whisper, knowing full well he’ll find an excuse to hang up now. I’m young compared to whatever his age is, and inexperienced at that.

My chest caves a little. Then he speaks, “Let’s fix it, then.”

The pen in my hand drops on the counter, and my jaw slacks, dangling low.

Fix it? How? What? Did he just really say what I most probably imagined hearing? The need to impress him cracks, and in its place seeds of indignation sprout.

“Excuse me?”

“The least I can do,” he says, unbothered by the change in my tone. “As a gratitude for your concern.”

“What does…” Somewhere along the line, I stop caring about the CCTV. My eyes boggle out, staring at without seeing the shop’s glass door. “What exactly do you mean?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I’d be honored to teach you.”

“Are you fucking with me?” My potent words and intonation clash with the tremors inside me.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I…”

Reading my apprehension, he adds, “In a public place. Safe. I’ll show you how to use those toys you offered as an upgrade under the table, and we’ll call it even.”

Logic tells me to hang the fuck up. Who the hell is this man to assume I want to learn?

Then a dark, dormant need within me begs me to differ. He doesn’t have the perverted attitude other clients give off. And he does sound attractive.

And offered a public place. Public.

“Show me as in show-me-show-me?”

The man who must have the sexiest name on earth which isn’t Chad Chadwick chuckles again, sinful and caressing. “Yes. Show-you-show-you. When does your shift end?”

I quickly add up how long it’ll take me to package the remaining orders, already texting the delivery guy to come over in ten. “Fifteen minutes, tops.”

“Perfect. You know SunsOut?”

“The bar?” I’m talking while walking around, gathering the first order’s items. Yes, I’m doing it. I’m actually doing it.

“The one and only. It’s two blocks away from Toy Shop.”

“I know.” I’ve been there two or three times during my senior year at Seattle University, but I don’t elaborate on that. No need to emphasize my age.

“Bring the bag and wear a skirt.” An office chair is dragged on the floor, his shoes clanging on a wooden floor. “I’ll wait for you there. See you soon, Nola.”

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