Page 30 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part One

“Yes?” I call out and make my way from behind the counter. I take a second to lock the front door so no one else can come in while I’m helping my guest. We’re technically closed now anyway, so it’s not like I’m shutting anyone out.

I scout out the aisles, searching for the target of my annoyance.

A tall, tan girl with hair as black as my soul is standing with her back to me. She’s wearing sweat pants, worn through at the bottom, and a tight shirt with thin straps that show off her shapely shoulders. It’s ripped in places, revealing more of that sexy smooth skin beneath.

Shit, maybe I need to get laid.I don’t normally notice shapely shoulders on regular people, let alone ones that are keeping me at work after hours. Why did Layla have to catch feelings?

The girl doesn’t have many curves, and her sweats aren’t doing anything to help her. However, compared to the pretentious girls at school, I can’t help but admire her grunge apparel and long, dark hair. Long hair does things to me I can’t explain. I love it on a girl.

Sue me. I may not be interested in many, but I won’t keep myself from looking at something I like.

“Can I help you find something?”

The girl’s back stiffens and her chin lifts. She turns, almost hesitantly, to look at me.

Fucking hell.

Charlotte Miller stares back at me, her face deadpan. She looks tired, worn out, and her eyes haven’t recovered from her crying episode this afternoon. Her hair is in all sorts of disorder, tangled in some spots as if she rode with the windows down on the way here, and smooth in others. A few dark strands hang in her face. She shoves them behind her ear and swallows thickly.

“Hi, Riggs. I’m sorry I’m here so late. If you could just point me toThe Outsiders,I’ll be out of your hair,” she rushes her words, her voice soft. We could only wish. I should’ve known that she would be the kind of inconsiderate person to bother someone who is about to close. She doesn’t strike me as one to care how others feel.

The Outsiders. Her choice of book, though, I can admire—unexpected as it may be.

“We currently don’t have any used copies. Only new ones.” I keep my voice professional. I may want to be a dick to her, but losing my job should she choose to complain about something I say is not worth it. “They’re over in the Young Adult section.”

She buys used books?That almost seems below someone of her caliber.

“Great, thanks. I’ll go grab it.” She moves to dart past me.

“I know right where they are,” I say as I lead the way out of the aisle.

“It’s okay, I can get it. But thank you.”

“Nonsense, Charley. That’s what I’m here for.” Okay, I’m laying it on a little thick, and I don’t want to be in her presence, but I have to grab the book for her. Leaving her to her own devices will only waste more of my time.

Instead of walking next to me, she follows a few paces behind. Not that she needs to walk beside me, but I could move a little faster if she did. Now, if I turn a corner and she isn’t paying attention, she is likely to go the wrong damn way.

“Just up here to the left.” Impatient and annoyed with the fact that she is in my store, I turn the next corner, stop in front of the section of one of my all-time favorite books, and snatch up a new copy. The first one is a little bent up, so I trade it out and turn to hand it to her. I can’t remember the last time I bought a new book. Even working for the shop, I still buy used because I can get more for less. It’s nice to be picky about which copy is best for once, even if it is for a self-righteous girl who I can’t stand.

Looking a little surprised and reluctant to make eye contact, Charley takes the book from me. She glances over it, flipping it in her hands as she eyes every bit with intense scrutiny.Interesting.

Does she collect books?

“Don’t worry, it’s an excellent copy.” She freezes, keeping quiet. What in the world is wrong with her today? Usually, her attitude is plastered on her face and she’s huffing and puffing. I’ve almost gotten used to getting her riled up.

“Yeah, I can see that. Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you need?” Again, startled and surprised, she looks at me. Damn, I must have been a dick if she is this wary that I’m not heckling her.

“No, this is it.”

This meek, quiet version of her is not something I like. I mean, I’m not into her at all, but this isn’t her.

I nod and take a second to pass my gaze over her. Her face has paled, her honeyed hazel eyes almost tormented.Jaded. I say nothing, though it’s almost as if she expects me to.

I know not to hurt anyone when they’re down. And she is down. My world has been cruel enough that I know when to screw with someone and when not to. Now is a time when she doesn’t need my snide remarks. Does she deserve them? All day, every day, but tonight, I’ll make an exception. Something in her energy is off.

At the register, she lays the book gently down on the counter and pulls a twenty from her bra. I stifle a chuckle. I didn’t peg her for one to keep money in her bra. The move almost seems trashy, or at least what she and many of the girls at the Academy would deem as improper. Against the code of etiquette.

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