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Chapter One

Krystina

A tendril of curly brown hair came loose from my ponytail. I pushed it out of my eyes, wiped the sweat off my brow, and stood to view the masterpiece before me. Well, it wasn’t really a masterpiece—it was a supermarket end cap. Plain and simple.

“Excellent work, Krys!”

I looked up to see my portly boss, Walter Roberts, walking toward me.

“Thanks, Mr. Roberts,” I replied absently. I wiped the dust off my hands with my apron and scrutinized the display I had built.

God, I hate planograms.

“Oh, come now. Don’t look at me like that,” my boss said, noting the apparent irritation written all over my face. “I know you don’t like to build displays copied from a diagram.”

“I don’t like the way the sides stick out into the aisle like this,” I complained, pointing to the outsides of the end cap. “The display is okay, considering the fact it’s a bunch of canned green beans and cream of mushroom soup. It’s the racking that bothers me. I think this upside-down pyramid design is a hazard.”

“You know, if it were any other day, I’d let you run away with your creativity. I just can’t allow it today,” Mr. Roberts said, vehemently shaking his head. Worry lines spread across his round face. “The potential investors will be here at one o’clock, and everything must be perfect. I have to play this by the book, Krys. I’m sorry, but there’s too much at stake.”

He placed a patient hand on my shoulder for reassurance, and I couldn’t help but soften my sour disposition. I liked Mr. Roberts, and I didn’t want to give him a hard time, especially considering all the stress he was under.

It was no secret that Wally’s Grocery Store was in financial trouble. After the stock market hit bottom a few years back, most of the smaller grocers had to close their doors for good, leaving Duane Reade as the only real competitor. Wally’s had stayed afloat, but they would need a strong investor if they hoped to remain open much longer. If I wanted a job, I needed to stick to the planograms—at least for today.

“I suppose you’re right,” I conceded.

“That’s better!” he said after seeing my change in demeanor. He gave me a sharp pat on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you, Krys. You’ll be a manager before you know it!”

And with that, he was off to harass the employees in the other departments.

I laughed to myself as I cleaned up my work area. Mr. Roberts always cracked comments about promoting me, even though he was fully aware I would never take a management job here.

I enjoyed working at Wally’s for the most part. My coworkers were great, and I got along well with my boss. I had given careful consideration to the many management offers Mr. Roberts had presented to me over the past few months. However, a manager position at Wally’s just wasn’t for me. And it certainly wouldn’t pay my bills. My college graduation six months ago didn’t just mark the beginning of a new future; it was a reminder that my student loan bills would come due any day now. Unfortunately, my salary at Wally’s wouldn’t even put a dent in them.

While the job had suited me well during my college years, it was becoming monotonous. Build a display; take it down. Build another; take it down—the same repetitive duties, day in and day out. I longed to use my degree in marketing, wanting my passion for sales to impact the world of advertising. I wanted a real job—one that gave me satisfaction. And one that gave me a fatter paycheck. I couldn’t continue to accept my stepfather’s support, but the job opportunities in New York had been slim to none. The stock market crash hadn’t just impacted grocery stores. The entire business world was thrown into turmoil.

I sighed as I made my way back to the break room to gather my belongings. It didn’t do me any good to dwell on the fact jobs were scarce. I just needed to keep looking. But not today. I hadn’t had an afternoon free in what seemed like ages, and I was looking forward to some quiet time. It was a beautiful day, unusually warm for the beginning of October, and I wanted to take advantage of the early shift. An afternoon in Central Park, reading a book amidst the changing foliage was just what I needed to unwind.

Thoughts of sunshine and autumn leaves played in my mind as I stepped up to my locker and began spinning the combination lock.

“Hey, Krys!” said an all too familiar voice.

I glanced up and caught the eye of Jim McNamara. I inwardly groaned as I tossed the contents of my locker into my oversized purse.

“Hi, Jim,” I said with forced politeness. I knew what was bound to come next, and a knot of dread formed in my stomach. Jim was forever asking me out, and I didn’t want to deal with his wounded puppy dog eyes when I turned him down—again. I was tired from a long shift, and I just wanted to clock out. I prayed that perhaps it would be my lucky day, and he’d leave me alone for once.

“Do you have any plans for tonight? How about joining me for a bite to eat?” he asked, always the tireless optimistic.

So predictable.

Apparently, lady luck was not going to cooperate with me.

Maybe if I don’t answer him, he’ll take the hint.

I turned back to my locker, pretending not to hear his invitation.

“So, what do you say? Dinner at the new taco joint down the street?” he asked, failing to acknowledge that I had ignored his invite.

I should know Jim better by now.