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The store is quiet, but the space is filled withher. She turns to me and notices me watching her. “I listened to theLed Zeppelinalbum this morning,” she says. “You were right.”
“Right about what?” I ask.
“It does sound better on vinyl.” Her fingers lightly trace the edge of the counter. “It got me thinking.”
“Yeah?” My voice is low and deep. I grip the underside of the counter.
“That it’s not the age of something that matters, it’s the quality.” Her eyes make me want to take a dip into something I shouldn’t.
I clear my throat and move over to a CD display, making sure they’re still in order. She joins me, taking the CD from my hand and rearranging them.
“I still thinkLed Zeppelin IIIis the better album,” she says cutting the tension, and I can’t help but laugh out loud, unable to contain my smile.
“Is that a smile?” She points at my face accusatorially. “And I was beginning to think you hated me.” She places both hands on her hips.
I look down at her. “Who says I don’t?”
7
CARIÑO
SASHA
Shakin’ by Eddie Money
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay while I’m gone?” Cash asks for the millionth time today.
I roll my eyes. “Yes,” I say, and plant my palms firmly on the counter. “You’ve been watching me all morning ring up customers.”
“And you rang up the wrongPrincealbum,” He points out the one mistake I made which wasn’t even my fault - the wrong barcode was on the tag.
“Just have a little faith that I can watch over your precious store while you’re gone for two hours.”
“I told you I’d be gone for three.”
I place my hands on my hips and raise my eyebrows. “I wasn’t born yesterday.” I shake my head. “You’ll be back in two hours telling me,” I pause so I can get into character, “the auction ended early, and traffic wasn’t as bad as I thought.”
“Did you rehearse that at home?” he asks.
“I like to improv,” I dead-pan.
“Is that really what I sound like?”
“Pretty much.” I busy myself by refolding t-shirts on the shelves and checking to make sure the sizes are in order.
Cash stands beside me, his hand rubbing the back of his neck which is what he does when he’s uncomfortable.
“I’m used to handling the store by myself ever since Daphne left, and I get a little…”
“Neurotic?”
“I was gonna say anxious,” he glares at me.
“Same thing.”
“Who is Daphne?” I ask, because I heard him mention her before.
“She used to help me out in the store, but she moved back to London,” he explains, and I wonder what they meant to each other.
