Page 76 of Embody

“Yes,” I transplant happiness into my voice as I walk out, still in my uniform. “I’ll take the skirt, tank top and vest, please.”Really wanted the boots, but I can’t justify spending twenty dollars on a luxury that I’ll probably only wear a few, select times. I certainly wouldn’t be able to wait tables in them.

Kelly’s brow furrows as she gives me a sympathetic smile…which I wish she wouldn’t.

“Bellamy, this is a consignment shop. You can trade in your old things for new items.”

“I know, very cool by the way, but I don’t have anything of your inventory’s caliber to bring in. I love the outfit, but the belt isn’t a necessity and I’m sure I can dig up some shoes that’ll work.”

“You’re underestimating your trading potential,” she grins, grabbing all the items and heading to the register. “You’re a young, beautiful girl who goes to college with other young, beautiful girls who want nice things but may not be able to afford them, right?”

“Righttt,” I drawl.

“Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll sell you the whole outfit for twenty bucks, andyou,” she reaches below the counter, reemerging with a large stack of hot pink papers, “hand out all these fliers to your friends and girls on campus, deal?”

“Are, you sure?”

“Positive.” She bags up my new duds and hands it to me, along with the fliers. “And Bellamy? You get sick of schlepping greasy food in that hideous uniform, you come see me about a job.”

No. Way.

I float, literally float, on cloud nine to the bus stop…and hand two ladies, also waiting, a flier of course.

How amazing would it be to work for that delightful woman, in that trendy, uplifting store? And just maybe, every once in a while, spend an itty-bitty portion of my paycheck on unbelievably priced, stylish clothes? Clothes that wouldn’t make me stick out like a sore thumb amongst my “financially blessed” friends.

I’m so lost in “no way this is real” land, I almost miss the ding of an incoming text.

 

Jefferson: I’m at your apartment. You’re not.

 

I laugh brusquely, a new kind of tingle zapping through me.

 

Me: Hot AND smart? I’m a lucky girl. You’re right, I’m not.

 

Jefferson: Calling me hot won’t work. Where are you?

 

Me: Sitting at the bus stop. Be there in about thirty, if you want to wait.

 

Jefferson: Don’t. Move.

 

Me: Why? I’m already here. Just wait for me. Coming back this way is silly.

 

Jefferson: Wait for you at least thirty minutes or be with you in less than fifteen? Hmm. Sticking with Don’t. Move.

 

Me: Bossy.

 

Jefferson: I mean it woman. Your fine ass better be sitting on that bench when I get there. Driving, gtg.

 

He’s lucky I’m in such a great mood.

 

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