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Because my brain was struggling to consolidate the Hayden I’d met a few nights ago and the Hayden who waited in the produce aisle just outside the door.
The Hayden I’d met that night, the one who had saved me from an awful date, with her sophisticated grace and charm, the sharp smiles that promised so much more…
That was the Hayden I’d been secretly daydreaming about.
Not that I’d ever admit it.
The one who stood out there, the one in a tailored navy suit that probably cost more than the store’s annual turnover, that was someone I’d never met.
“Stupid,” I scoffed to myself. I berated myself for having the tiniest sliver of hope when Hayden had walked in and introduced herself as the new owner. I’d hoped, foolishly, that maybe my parents’ store wouldn’t be picked apart and changed.
I was an idiot.
My palms prickled with the need to do something, and I walked further along the hallway and shoved the heavy door to the cold room open.
Icy air hit my warm cheeks and I could have sighed in relief. I slipped inside, shutting the door behind me.
I grabbed my abandoned clipboard from the day before, reading through the current stock data. Walking along the stocked shelves I tried as hard as I could to shove the thoughts of Hayden’s darkened gaze out of my head. But doing stock reminded me of that stupid quarrel, how something in my chest fluttered when Hayden’s voice turned serious and cold. The way she held herself, like she was the most confident person in the room, was something I envied and reluctantly had to admit I found stupidly attractive.
“Focus, Frankie,” I grunted, tossing the clipboard aside and grabbing my hair into some semblance of a ponytail. Stray curls fell into my face and I blew at them, too frustrated to have anything else piss me off.
But I couldn’t.
Hayden’s lingering glances tugged on the edge of my attention, begging for me to overthink, to turn each look over in my head. What I hated even more was how easily my body responded to each glance. How easily she made me want to cave. I was genuinely attracted, so embarrassingly into her that I struggled to split my feelings from my logic.
With a muted snarl, I snatched up the clipboard and counted the heads of lettuce for the nth time.
I rounded the very last set of shelves, ready to start counting the dairy-free milk cartons when the sound of the door being shoved open made me jump.
“Vee?” I called, hoping it wasn’t Blanca or Dean. I circled back and peeked around the shelf.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
My fingers turned numb as Hayden closed the door behind her.
“What are you doing here?” I snapped, hating the bite in my words. But it was better than the pathetic alternative.
God forbid I actually swooned.
“We need to hash things out,” Hayden said simply, her gaze flicking from my face to the clipboard in my hands. “What are you doing?”
I clenched my jaw and waved the clipboard as if that were an answer. “Stock take.”
“In the middle of the month?” she questioned, the side of her mouth curling into a smirk. She was hot and she knew it.
I wanted to melt into the cabbages behind me.
“I wanted something to do before I said something stupid,” I admitted, the softer side of me angling for control. “I’m a lot better at using my hands than a cool head.”
Hayden’s hum was edged; loaded. I glanced at her and immediately regretted it.
Her tawny hair shone under the harsh fluorescents, making the subtle gold jewelry at her ears, neck and fingertips all the richer. Her keen eyes watched me too closely, the soft curve of her mouth far too tempting.
“And, are you feeling any better?”
Her words hid another question, the intonation creeping just below the surface.Are you ready to be professional?
I swallowed the acidic retort on my tongue and forced a smile.
