Page 31 of Call it Reckless

She immediately put her small hand in mine. “I’m Lexi. I’m pleased to meet you. Welcome to Sterling Mill.”

Wow, what pleasant manners. “Thank you.”

“Maybe my daddy can show you around sometime. He knows everyone here and lots of cool places. He’s really nice,andhe keeps everyone safe, so you can trust him.”

“Oh, I believe you about that,” I said, trying not to choke on my laughter.

Reid cleared his throat. “We should get going, Lexi.” He tipped his head toward me. “Nice to see you again, Bristol.” He pushed the cart the rest of the way down the aisle, but Lexi turned and waved over her shoulder. What a sweetheart.

I headed for one of the two lanes only to have another shopper clip my cart as she lunged to get ahead of me. Her heavily made-up eyes swept over my casual appearance and her lips curled in distaste.

I was dressed for comfort in a pair of jeans with a few holes—not the kind you paid good money for—a sweatshirt made soft by many washings, and my Chucks. She wore leather, hot pink pants that made me wonder if she had to use some kind of lubricant to put them on, along with killer four-inch heels. A short-waisted coat made up of rolls of faux fur that reminded me of a fluffy version of the Michelin Man topped her ensemble. Her hair hung like an ironed sheet down her back, more yellow than natural blonde, and her make-up was more appropriate for a night out than grocery shopping.

I swallowed my snarky comment and moved to the adjacent line. While I waited my turn, I grabbed a magazine from the rack behind me and flipped through it, trying to ignore the loud “clack” her long nails made as she drummed her fingers across the check-writing stand.

“Could you hurry up? I swear you’re the slowest cashier in the store.”

The girl, whom I estimated to be about sixteen, flushed. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m trying.”

“Ma’am? How old do you think I am?”

“Old enough to have learned some manners,” I said to my magazine page, not bothering to lower my voice.

The clacking stopped.

I looked up to see the flustered young girl struggling to move one of several cases of beer around in the cart so she could scan it.

Ms. Leather Pants glared back as if she could incinerate me on the spot until she noticed other customers nodding their heads in agreement with my comment. She turned her nose up at everyone and took out her phone, never bothering to help the cashier.

When I exited the store, it surprised me to see her still standing in front of the store. A cigarette dangled from her fingers while she talked on her cell. I smiled sweetly as I passed, earning another scowl. As I returned my cart, I heard her raise her voice again.

“Get away from me, you beast.”

I looked up to see she had moved a few more feet but had stopped because a mangy-looking dog was lying on the sidewalk in her way. He looked like he could use a few meals.

“I said ‘shoo!’” she yelled, lifting her foot as if to kick him with her pointy shoe.

“Hey, don’t even think about it!” I yelled, catching her attention before her foot could connect with the animal. I had zero tolerance for cruelty of any kind, but especially against a helpless creature. I was an easy sucker for those commercials that showed starving and abused animals.

“You again.” She put her phone back to her ear. “Gotta go,” she said and tossed her phone into her oversized purse. “Do you know how to mind your own business?”

I knew the smart thing was to ignore her and walk away, but I’d never been one to back down in a fight. “Only when it doesn’t involve other people getting hurt.”

She scowled and glanced toward the spot where the dog had been. He was obviously smarter than me because he was nowhere to be seen.

She dropped her purse and came toward me, her hand clenched. “Maybe you want to be the one to teach me some manners?”

Great.I held my hands up. “Look, I’m just saying you shouldn’t kick a dog. You never know if he might attack you back.”Not that you don’t deserve it.

“Look, maybe you’re new in town or somethin’, but we mind our own business around here.”

Oh, the irony of her comment.

“Well, where I come from, we don’t tolerate bullying.”

“Yeah?” She reached out and shoved my shoulder. “Maybe you’re the one who needs to learn some manners.” She shoved me again, causing me to rock back a step.

“Don’t touch me again,” I warned.

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