Page 29 of Beat around the Bush
Scooby snacks?
“Uh, yeah,” I said quietly, not sure what else to say to that.
“I’m referring to the scooby snacks for people, not the dog in the show,” he said, itching his forearm. “Anyway, I was wondering if you could recommend a good brand of dog food for my puppy?”
Putting his comment to the side, I smiled. “Of course. Come with me.”
I led him over to the dog food aisle, his feet just a step behind me. Bringing him over to one of our more popular brands, I pulled a small bag down from the top shelf and turned to show him the list of ingredients. “Alana Farms' firstingredient on their list is always a protein, which is what you want to aim for when trying to find a good dog food brand. You don’t want some filler like a legume or grain as the first few ingredients.”
He grabbed the bag from me, reading the list. “Why’s that?”
“Well, the first few ingredients are what the kibble is primarily made of, and a dog, especially a high energy puppy, should have an abundance of protein in their diet.”
He tossed the bag from one hand to the other, examining the front. “You sound like a spokesperson.”
I shrugged. “Salesperson, spokesperson.”
“That’s cool that you know your stuff,” he said with a grin.
“I like to study up on it so that when people like you ask, I know what I’m talking about.”
“Smart girl. I like it.”
I cleared my throat, looking at the other bags on the shelf around me. “Was there anything else you needed for your puppy?”
“What else do you need for a puppy besides food?” he joked.
I let out an awkward laugh that was too breathy and picked at a piece of lint on the sleeve of my shirt. “Toys, treats-”
“I’ve got a lot of toys at home.”
Pursing my lips together, I hesitated a moment. I was sure he meant dog toys, but there was something else in his tone that indicated he wasn’t just talking about the canine variety.
“I can ring you up if you’re ready,” I said, looking for an out.
He stepped one foot to the side and waved his hand out, gesturing me to go first. I stepped around him, making my wayup to the register and coming around the back of it. As I reached for the small bag of kibble he set on the counter, my eyes caught on Lennon facing a shelf with a clipboard and pen in his hand.
Scanning the bag, I checked the total for the man’s transaction, then read it off to him.
He pulled out his wallet and took out a card, inserting it into the payment terminal.
“So you said you study at home,” he said as he waited for the payment to go through.
Technically,I’d just said I study. He was the one to mention the home part.
“Yep.”
“What side of town do you live on?” he asked, like it was casual conversation to ask retail workers where they lived.
The receipt printed out as the POS dinged for him to remove his card. “Uh...”
“Oakley, I need your help with price checks.” Lennon’s voice interrupted the sound of the printer and the abundance of thoughts racing through my head on how to answer the guy. I didn’t want to be rude and saynone of your business,but why the hell would I tell him where I live?
My gaze shot up to Lennon, who still had his clipboard and pen in hand, but instead of studying numbers on labels stuck to shelves, he was studying me like he could see my discomfort written on my face.
“Got it,” I said to him, then brought my attention back to the customer. “Sorry, duty calls.” I offered a half-smile, hopingit would ease over how I hadn’t answered his question. I had no interest in getting to know the guy, so I wasn’t eager to answer personal questions like that.
“Retail, am I right?” he joked.
