Page 35 of Living for Truth
God, I sound like a sad puppy when its owner goes to work.
The bell above the door dings, and Iput on my customer service smile, but as soon as I see the head of honey blonde hair, my smile widens because my girl is here.
Notmy girl.My friend—the girl I’m head over heels for—Hannah.
And she looks like a dream. She’s wearing another jumpsuit, but this one is a light green with a daisy pattern on it. It’s a spaghetti strap top, so she’s got on a thin white shirt underneath to make it work appropriate, and she’s paired it with adorable white sneakers.
God, she’s so pretty.
When she sees me, she offers a small smile and fixes her glasses, even though they weren’t askew.
She’s nervous, I can tell. But why?
Oh no. She’s going to end our arrangement.
Panic claws at my throat, but I do my best not to show it.
“Hey, Han. How’s it going?” I greet, leaning against the counter as casually as I can.
“It’s… going. Um, how are you?” Hannah again fixes her not-askew glasses, then tucks and untucks a strand of hair from behind her ear.
“I’m good, thanks. You said you wanted to talk about something? Let’s head to my office, and we can chat there. I’m just going to put up the closed for lunch sign.” Better to get to the nitty gritty immediately.
I head toward the front door, despite Hannah’s protest of, “Oh, no you don’t have to close for me.”
Once the lock is engaged and the sign is up, I head to the back. I look Hannah in the eye as I say, “You always deserve my undividedattention.”
Her cheeks flush a rose pink, and I internally fist-bump myself. “My office is this way.” I lead her around the checkout counter and to the narrow hallway behind it that hosts a restroom, supply closet, and my office.
It’s not much, just a desk, a rolling chair, a couch, a shelf, and a filing cabinet where I keep all the necessary legal documents I need. I don’t spend a lot of time here because I prefer to be out at the counter. Olivia handles most of the paperwork from her home office.
I motion for Hannah to sit on the small couch. I sit next to her, but that’s a mistake because we’re not small people, and now our thighs are almost touching.
“What’s up?” I toss an arm over the back of the couch so I can face her a bit more.
Hannah takes a deep breath. “I know this is kind of short notice, but the library needs to fill a Thursday afternoon slot for our summer program. We originally had a plant nursery scheduled, but the owner can’t commit anymore, and my friend Sage and I were wondering ifyouwould be willing to come? Maybe talk about the language of flowers or lead a bouquet design workshop or talk about the different needs of different flowers.
“We can’t pay, unfortunately, and I know closing early once a week might not be a financially sound decision, which is understandable, so this might be a really dumb idea—”
“Hannah,” I cut her off, gently placing my hand on hers, “I’d really enjoy doing that. How long does the program last?” How could she possibly think I’d say no? Especially when it means I’d be guaranteed to see her once a week?
“The program starts the last week of May and goes to the second week of August.”
“Done. I’ll see if Olivia would be willing to watch the store, and if she can’t, I think the high school kids I employ would be able to for a few hours. Thursdays aren’t our busiest day so it should be fine.”
Hannah’s shoulders slump in what I imagine is relief. “Thank you, Morgan. You’re really saving my bacon. I owe you one.”
Oh, I can think ofmanyways to cash in my favor. But not all of them are appropriate right now so I’ll put that in my pocket for later.
“You’re welcome. Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?” I’m tempted to reach out and run a silky strand of hair through my fingers, just to touch her in some small way.
“No, I uh, was wondering what you were doing tomorrow night?” She winces on the last word.
Hope ignites in my chest. Issheaskingmeon a date? “I don’t have any plans. Why?”
“I know it’sveryshort notice, but my birthday dinner is tomorrow, and my mom made some—”
“Wait,what?Your birthday is tomorrow? Why didn’t you tell me?” I’m kind of hurt she didn’t let me know. Why wouldn’t she tell me?
