Page 101 of Beat around the Bush
Closing the door, I headed back through the store to the office. I shut the door behind me and sat behind the desk to count out the money and finish the end-of-the-night duties on the computer.
As I was exiting out of the browser, the office door opened.
“Almost done,” I said without looking up.
But instead of Jacey replying, it was a man’s voice. “Take as long as you need because I’m going to do the same.”
My eyes shot up, landing on JP’s smirk as he closed the office door behind him. The expression on his face was anything butsweet. I scooted the chair back a few inches, like that could give me the space I needed from him.
“We’re closed, JP,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice steady.
“I know. Six o’clock every night.”
My heart was pounding in my ears with the uncertainty of why he was here.
“And don’t worry about your coworker. My friend has her locked in the stock room, but she probably doesn’t know it yet.”
I internally cursed, hoping she’d figure it out sooner than later and call for help. He was giving me the creeps, standing there with that look on his face, like his intentions with being here were anything but innocent.
“If you want to buy something-”
“I can’t buy this, Oakley,” he interrupted as he slowly walked closer to me.
“Buy what?” I asked, confused by what he meant.
“Your affection,” he stated.
Unease twisted my stomach as fear froze me in place.
My affection? He wanted me to like him?
“Look, I think you’re cool, JP, but-”
“Where’s the knife?” he asked, ignoring me.
I searched around in my brain for what he meant.
“Knife…?”
His eyes scanned the desk. “The pocketknife. The one I gave you as a gift to protect yourself. Where is it?”
I thought back, trying to remember where I’d stashed it.
The register.
It was in the front of the store.
If he’d let me go get it, I could slip out the front and call for help for Jacey.
“It’s up at the register. I can go grab it if you let me.”
JP shook his head, coming around the side of the desk. I stood, inching myself backwards to put distance between us.
“Should’ve kept it with you, Oakley. You never know when you’ll need protection. Why don’t we play with mine instead?”
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pocket knife that was a few inches longer than the one he’d given me. He spun it in his hand, admiring it.
“I feel like you didn’t appreciate my gift,” he said.
