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and years and dates, but that’s what we’re here for. And Myrtle, Sylvia, and
Betty.”
“And all the guys and gals who help out with moving things in and out of
the store and delivery and picks and sorting and all the vendors who sell
here and put in hours for a lower commission rate. Yeah, I get it. There are a
lot of us who know a lot. She could ask anyone.”
“And learn from anyone.”
“She’s just…she’s…”
“Not even blonde,” Wynn said flatly.
“I know, I know. I was seriously kidding about that. I’m just saying…
she’s dressed…”
“Just fine.”
“She was wearing a green frilly dress and heels. She looked like she
stepped out of the fifties. Except that her hair was wrong.”
Kiera blinked to rid herself of the image of the new hire—Ramona,
Romi, whatever—wearing that tight-fitting dress. The top looked like it was
pasted on and the skirt was about two feet wide on either side. The dress
flattered Romi’s tall, curvy figure. The dress outlined her full breasts and
tucked in at an impossibly narrow waist before it flared out at gently curved
hips to hide everything until where the skirt ended to reveal long, shapely
legs. Kiera hadn’t failed to notice how Romi’s creamy, shapely calves
flexed from the height of her heels. She was immediately jealous of those
calves. She was jealous of a few more things too. Jealous and…well…she
was more than jealous.
Romi’s face was as beautiful as the rest of her. She had thick dark hair
that she’d pulled into a high pony tail. It glistened in the overhead lights,
glossy and healthy, as it swung back and forth, and hung halfway down her
back. She had pretty much perfect features. Flawless, creamy skin. A nice
straight nose, full lips, high cheekbones, a sharp jawline. If Romi went out
to a bar, there would no doubt be a pack of eager, salivating guys lined up to
