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“You can’t blame the Chinese food for their health problems.” Marytsked. “Personally, I think it’s bad genes. Theresa was the healthiest of them. But, you know, that’s probably why her husband suggested all the children take her last name. Can’t imagine what that did to him, though. Probably emasculated him.”
I shook my head, turning away from the conversation. I had heard enough of the town gossip. The least I could do was refuse to listen to any more of it.
I walked up to the cash register, checking the time. It was a relatively slow Friday evening, with very few customers coming in to buy merchandise. Not that we were particularly busy any other Friday; after all, we were a college bookstore in a small town. There are only so many Hemingway College sweatshirts one could get.
When Mary and Natalie left—and left their mess behind, as well—I locked the door and began the cleaning and restocking process. Every Monday morning, Daniella came in to make sure we had restocked and wrotemeup if we hadn’t. I had two other coworkers—Janine and Estelle—but Janine was Daniella’s favorite and never felt the need to help, and Estelle had taken this Friday night off. So it was just me.
I refolded the sweaters, restocked the mugs, and started toward the back room. As I did, my phone chimed with a notification. I took out my phone and smiled, reading the alert.CHECK DIRECT-DEPOSITED, it said. When I opened my banking app, I smiled at the number.
Just a little more until I reach my goal.
I wanted to save enough tuition for George Washington College of New Jersey’s associate’s program in animation, which was $80,000 for two years, counting supplies. Since it was in New Jersey, it made the most sense for me as it gave me the ability to be close to Dad. The next best program was in Los Angeles, and that was too far for either of us. But now that he was relatively stable, I didn’t have to worry about being around as much. He was back to work and had been going every day without issue.
Also, he threatened to kick me out if I hovered over him too much.
Just as I was getting ready to put my phone away, my phone lit up with an incoming call.BROOKLYN WALTERS, the caller ID read. I smiled as I pressed the accept button.
“Hey, Lyn,” I said, plugging in my headphones so I could be hands-free. “Happy Friday night. How’s it going?”
“I should be asking you the same thing,” Brooklyn returned. “Why did you pick up your phone on a Friday night? Please don’t tell me you’re working. Or at least tell me thatDaniella’snot there.”
I shook my head, suppressing a laugh. Brooklyn was constantly telling me that I worked too much and too hard. Also, she hated Daniella—their families had a long-standing feud. It had something to do with the end of Brooklyn’s last relationship, as Daniella was her ex’s cousin, and caused Brooklyn to keep wealthy people in general, and Daniella in particular, at a distance. I didn’t know the details, though, and I thought it better not to ask.
“Yes, I’m working, and no, Daniella’s not here,” I replied, grabbing a box to bring to the front. “I wouldn’t be able to pick up the phone if she were here; you know that.”
“Of course not. Queen Daniella couldn’t handle you being on the phone while doing something as mindless as restocking, even if youareable to do both at once. God, I hope you take her job one day.”
I laughed aloud, unable to hold it in. “Now, Brooklyn, don’t let your family feud get in the way of good sense,” I joked. “You know I’m just working here until I can save enough money to leave. What would taking her job accomplish?”
“Vengeance,” Brooklyn replied immediately. “Sweet, sweet vengeance.”
I shook my head, raising my eyes to the heavens.“Vengeance does nothing for me,” I said. “I’d rather keep my job, save the money, then quit and find a new job when I get to New Jersey. This one pays really well, despite how hard Daniella is on me. I’d rather not make waves.”
“Whatever,” Brooklyn muttered. “Vengeance sounds more satisfying. Anyway, have you downloaded that dating app I told you about?”
I grimaced but didn’t reply. Brooklyn was my best friend, and I hated to disappoint her, but I simply didn’t have the time or energy to date. When I wasn’t at the bookstore, I was volunteering at Hemingway’s animal shelter or spending time with my dad. I couldn’t imagine trying to fit dating into the equation.
But also, I was as Plain Jane as they come.
I didn’t wear any makeup, and I wore the reading glasses that Brooklyn told me made me look like an owl. I was tall for a woman, so I often had a hard time dating men who were insecure about their height—even though I always told them it was okay or that I could wear flats.
But according to Brooklyn, none of those things were the most offensive thing about me, appearance-wise. Her main complaint was about the way I dressed.
You dress like you’re a sixty-year-old Sunday school teacher,she once complained.You can show off your legs; your dresses and baggy-ass trousers don’t need to hide them. You also don’t need nearly that big of a cardigan. Or any cardigan, really. Just donate the whole lot of them. Or, you know, burn them.
And that was only her tirade about my work attire. Don’t let her get started on what I wore outside of work.
“You haven’t signed up for the app,” Brooklyn said, not even bothering to ask the question this time.
“Brooklyn…”
“No, don’tBrooklynme! Cici, you gotta get back out there. You told me you would download the applast week.When was the last time you went on a date? Six months ago? A year ago?”
I frowned. “You know how long it’s been.”
“No, I know how long it’s been since you had a long-term relationship. And we won’t even talk aboutthat.But when was the last time you went out on adate?”
“Okay, I’ll download the app as soon as I’m home. I promise, okay?”
