AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You can call me Dora,” I offer as if I were actually born with this unusual name and have to correct people all the time.
Dora the Explorer. Oh my God. How will I make it through the next five minutes?
Connor points a long finger at the barstool to his left. “Have a seat.”
I do as he instructs, still biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing in his face. From now until I nail the bastards running their operation out of this store, I’ll be Dora or whoever the fuck I need to be to get the story written.
“So, Dora,” Connor says. “Have you ever worked in a record store?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Do you know how to use a record player? We only play vinyl in this store. No CDs or MP3s are allowed on the surround system. Store policy. Not like we have anything you can play them with anyway.”
“Makes sense, seeing as this is a record store,” I say, almost forgetting this is an interview. I flash a closed mouth smile and continue, “Yes, I know how to use a record player. I have my parents’ old Thorens model they bought after they got married.”
“Sweet.” He moves his hands in front of him to crack his knuckles, his muscular arms flexing in the process. “It’s not often we get anyone in here who even knows how to drop a record.” After he finishes his stretch, he leans forward with his hands on the glass counter. “Well, the hours are pretty straightforward…” he pauses for a moment then continues, “… Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights from four o’clock until closing at ten. I pay in cash once a week. No overtime, no health insurance, no benefits of any kind. You’ll have to lock up at the end of your shift, close out the till, and make sure the store is clean for the next morning. Think you can handle that?”
That’s a lot of trust to hand over to a new employee. Maybe I was wrong about this place. Either way, I can use the extra money to buy groceries.
“Yes, I can handle it. When do I start?”
“How about tonight?”
I nod, nervous about starting so soon. This is all finally happening for me. The break I need.
“Sounds good,” I say with a genuine smile.
“Come by around quarter to four, and I’ll get you set up with everything.”
I extend my hand to Connor, and he gives it a shake. I have a job, one that can make or break my career. It’s also a good distraction from Ethan.
After getting knocked out of the playoffs by the Caps, I’ve made myself scarcer than normal. It’s been two weeks since I last saw Mia, and Will has been up my ass about hanging out. He’s worried about me. I have a habit of shutting out the world when I need to clear my head.
Will’s the only person who knows about the guilt and anger I harbor over the past. He’s well aware of my issues and lets me crawl into the darkness just long enough before he has to pull me out. And that’s why I finally gave in to his requests to meet him for dinner.
I find Will in the back of Chinese Garden hovered over several cartons of food. He digs into each of them like a ravenous beast, chewing with his mouth half-open. Every time he ate at my house, my mom made comments about Will’s etiquette.
It wasn’t often we had guests for dinner. While my dad was alive, our house was more like a mausoleum than a home. But on the few occasions Will was invited for Sunday dinner, he ate the same way. And my mom said something about it to me every time.
I sit across from Will and lift a pair of chopsticks from the center of the table. “Couldn’t wait until I got here?”
“Dude, I haven’t eaten all day, and you’re late. When it comes to food, I wait for no man.”
I work on a plate of General Tso’s, Mia’s favorite, while Will devours a container of shrimp fried rice. Mia would live off this shit if she had the money to buy takeout every night.
“Where have you been all week?” Will shoves a forkful of rice into his mouth, speaking between bites. “You shacking up with some chick I don’t know about?”
I laugh, attempting to chew the rubbery chicken. “Nah, you know me. I don’t do repeats. Too much drama.”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and then continues to stuff his face with more rice. Will is like a child with food all over his mouth and down the front of his shirt. And he’s not even drunk.
Will sets the rice carton on the table and shoots me a pained look. “Then, where have you been? You haven’t stopped by the apartment in two weeks. Mia’s asked about you a few times. And I’m starting to wonder if you’re taking our loss a little harder than you should. Your old habits aren’t creeping up on you, I hope?”
