Page 43 of Show Me How to Heal
“Wow, it looks like you’re a professional,” Zayne told me as he stepped next to me and placed the bottles with orange juice on the table.
“Nah. My parents liked to drinkSekt… I think it’s prosecco in English, but I’m not sure becauseProseccois a thing in Germany and there’s a difference toSekt… but that doesn’t matter. Anyways, when we met as a family, we always shared a bottle ofSekt,so I’m used to opening them.” I shrugged, biting my tongue to refrain from telling him about all the parties I’d attended, watching the staff pour champagne because I was bored out of my mind — and, possibly, trying to avoid the women my teammates tried to set me up with.
“Sounds nice. Are you close?”
“Me and my parents? Yeah.” I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. We worked side by side, me with the champagne, filling the glasses only halfway up, and him adding a little orange juice to them. “What about you? Are your parents here today?”
“No.” He sounded a little sad, and I wanted to kick myself for stepping into it. “I mean, yeah, we’re close as a family, but they live a couple hours drive away, and my dad didn’t get time off work. So I told them it was okay if they missed this one. They’ll be here for the grand opening, though,” he told me, his voice getting brighter again.
I liked this, working side by side with him. We’d done it a lot in the last couple of days, and it was… easy. Fun.
The work wasn’t mentally trying, so talking to him was a great way for me to stay focused while working, which sounded crazy but wasn’t. I was so used to all my senses staying hyper-focused that I couldn’t just do something that only needed one part of my attention.
“Done.”
We hadn’t filled all the glasses yet, but enough to get everyone waiting outside a glass.
“Perfect,” I said, hobbling back to the counter. I carefully straightened my button-down shirt — a linen one, because, you know, I needed to match the whole aesthetic of the shop — and grabbed my crutches. “Ready?” I asked Zayne.
He gave a stiff nod as he pulled the key out of his pocket. I wanted to reassure him with a kiss but held myself back. We weren’t at a pda stage yet. And I didn’t want to steal his thunder.
I watched him walk towards the door, unlock it, and step back while people poured into the shop, congratulating Zayne as they walked by him.
Some of them even held small presents in their hands, which was a relief because that meant I wasn’t the only one. My present was still tucked inside my messenger bag since I hadn’t worked up the courage to hand it over yet.
Now, however… yeah, many people were doing that, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.
The shop was quickly getting full, brimming with people walking around, stopping here and there, eyeing his products curiously.
A couple of customers immediately grabbed the small woven baskets we’d placed next to the front door and started loading bars of soap into them.
I was an employee here, so what I should do was step up to customers to help them find the right products, but the sheer number of people milling around kept me from doing so. Instead, I stayed at the counter, which turned out to be a good idea, seeing as the first customer already stepped up to it.
“Hi,” she said, extending her hand to shake mine. I let go of one of the crutches, shook her hand, and put on what I hoped was a friendly smile.
“Hello,” I answered.
“I’m Becca,” she told me while placing five bars of soap on the counter. I quickly pulled my barstool closer so I could sit down and actually have my hands free to work the register. “You must be the new guy. Luke, right?”
I nodded, tilting my head in surprise. “Yeah, I am. How did you know?”
“Oh, Zayne was talking about you on his latest livestream,” she said. “I’m a regular. Like… a regular customer, but I watch his streams regularly, too. They’re so meditative.”
“I haven’t seen his streams, yet, but I’m quickly becoming a regular customer of his, too. If you want a tip, the new deodorant creams he offers work miracles.”
Her smile widened, her cheeks turning a little rosy, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, do tell. Which ones do you like the most?”
I chuckled. “Oh, he has this one earthy-one that smells delicious.” Like him. Not that I said that. “But if you’re looking for something lighter, maybe a little more feminine, he has great flowery and fruity scents, too. The deodorants are all the same base cream — which you can get without added scent, too, if you’ve got sensitive skin — so it’s really just a question of which scent you like.”
Becca laughed. “Damn, you’re good. You make me want to buy one of each scent to find the perfect one.”
I shrugged, a sheepish smile on my face. “You can always do that, but we also have testers available over there.” I pointed in the direction of the deodorant section, which wasn’t empty but wasn’t the most popular section of the store.
Becca picked her soaps up again, putting them back into her basket. “I’ll be back, big guy.”
I laughed. I definitely wasn’t a big guy. Then again, she was a tiny thing but with a lot of personality.
The afternoon went on like this. Selling soaps, shampoo bars, body melts and deodorants, talking and laughing with customers, and recommending products while sitting at the register while watching Zayne flit through the store, taking pictures of the store itself, pictures with customers, pictures of the soaps — he basically took pictures of everything. At the same time, he managed to be an attentive host, laugh with people, share smiles, and shake hands.
