Page 53 of Haunt the Mall

“Nothing. That’s a really cool jacket. Where’d you get it?” she asked, her tone an odd mix of chipper and flat.

I rubbed the material. “A friend.”

“Cool friend.” Her cheeks twitched with a smile.

“Thanks.” I liked him.

Unsettled by her Stepford, dead-eyed cheeriness, I dismissed her to the sales floor. “And send AJ in,” I said.

“Oh, AJ,” she trilled. “You’re next.”

She skipped off and AJ awkwardly shuffled in. “Hey, boss," he said.

I let out a breath and gestured to the chair. “Hey. This should be quick.”

“Yeah, bet.” He adjusted his glasses and sat, leaning forward. At least he was clearly open to listening.

“You’re a nice guy,” I said. “You take great care of our guests. You keep busy when you could relax. I appreciate all of that. But we have to follow store guidelines. If Bree has a headache, she needs to pop an Advil and talk to me about accommodations.”

He held out his hands. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought if she was sick, we could switch it up.”

“I know. And I love that you’re picking up slack.” I saw a little bit of myself in him on some occasions. “Maybe one day you’ll make a good manager.”

His grin lit up the room. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I bet he wouldn’t ‘bitch’ at employees. Although I wasn’t sure he had the guts to put boundaries up yet. “If and when you’re interested in setting goals for that, let me know, and I’ll help you out. Oh, also, I’m sorry for complaining to you this morning. That was pretty unprofessional.”

AJ flushed. “You can talk to me.”

“Not like that,” I admitted. “Let’s keep up the good work, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, pushing his knees and hopping to his feet. “You’ve got it boss.”

We tapped fists.

We weren’t friends. But we shared respect. I’d call that a success.

Once he bounded out, I got back to business, which meant scheduling. It would be silly to put Bree on a morning shift again so soon. But I needed my breaks too. I usually prioritized everyone else’s schedule. Maybe this week, I could do something else nice for me.

I glanced at my phone.

I knew who I wanted to see. What I wanted to do. I rubbed the jacket for luck and sent a text.

It wasn’t the most romantic message, but it was brave enough.

Music crooned through the speakers as my phone lit up with his reply.

It was just the praying hands emoji. To me, it read: Please. I beg. He wanted this too.

I grinned and stroked his jacket, reveling in the strength of this second skin.

24

The Lot

I got out of work before Victor. Although he offered to sneak me in for a late-night showing, after an almost-full day of shifts, I needed to give him the goods and be on my way.

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