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The idea of an employee treating the sales floor as their makeshift bedroom? That would be a PR nightmare.
“Mr. Lacroix, what a pleasant surprise!”
Etienne grins, looking like he's fresh out of "Dapper Gents Monthly." With his navy-blue suit, crisply ironed white shirt, and a red tie that might as well have its own spotlight, he's truly a sight.
“Sorry to pop in unannounced,” Etienne says in his subtle French accent. He came to the U.S. in his early twenties, but the French flavor is still just as smooth with every word coming out of his mouth. “I won’t be staying long. I just wanted to say hello before I head back to New York for the rest of November.”
“It’s a pleasure to see you, sir,” I say, smiling softly.
“How is everything here?” he asks.
Phil finishes wrapping up and grabs his phone, bag, and coat before coming around the counter to shake Etienne’s hand. “We’re very good, sir. I reckon we’ll have a profitable couple of weeks before the Christmas shopping season even starts,” he tells Etienne.
“I’m glad to hear that,” our boss replies, then looks at me. “And how are you doing, Selina? I trust you’re happy with your position here?”
“Absolutely, sir, thank you,” I say.
He turns to Phil and puts a hand on his shoulder. “How about I take you out for a nightcap before you head home? It’s been ages since we’ve caught up.”
“That sounds nice,” Phil replies, only slightly surprised. “Selina, would you like to join us?”
I force a smile, trying to keep my voice light. "You two should savor the evening. I've got a gourmet microwave dinner waiting for me at home," I quip with feigned enthusiasm. "Still, thanks for the offer. Always a pleasure, Mr. Lacroix."
I hoped he wouldn’t notice the tremor in my voice. Inside, panic consumed me. The last thing I needed was for him to realize how desperately I wanted to avoid him now that he's back in town.
Etienne laughs, we say our goodbyes, and I watch the two of them leave. I patiently wait for the sound of their footsteps to recede before I prepare to close the store for the evening.
Slowly, I go through the closing protocol, one step at a time.
I turn off the computers and tablets and plug them in for the night. Next, I lock the cases that hold the most expensive jewelry.
Just as I'm about to lock the front door, I spot Kieran's unmistakable figure which looms in the entrance.
He’s radiating disdain and arrogance.
"Why are you here, Kieran? We're done," I assert, attempting to mask my unease.
His eyes, sharp and condescending, meet mine. "Selina, you're overreacting. We need to talk."
"Overacting to what exactly?" I counter sharply. "Your latest escapade with Sandra from next door?"
He moves to step inside, frustration evident. "Selina, listen..."
But there's an unmistakable menace in his approach, and my heart races. His towering frame casts a shadow over me, and I realize how vulnerable I am.
"I said, leave."
The door eases open, revealing a trio that never fails to quicken my pulse.
Today, they look especially captivating, and the timing couldn't be more perfect.
Matthew stands tall at 6 feet, his mature dark hair peppered with strands of wisdom. Those penetrating gray eyes, set in a face that’s both rugged and refined, hint at tales of Marine exploits and mornings in the gym. Every tailored piece he wears, highlights a physique that's both powerful and graceful. He exudes a command that’s hard to overlook.
Beside him is Jason, the embodiment of sun-soaked allure. Standing 6’3”, his athletic build contrasts perfectly with that shaggy blond hair and those mischievous blue eyes. Despite his casual, beach-boy demeanor, the tailored edges of his attire showcase an underlying sophistication.
Then there's Sully, the tall, dark, and undeniably handsome of the trio. At 6’5”, he's a heady mix of mystery and strength. His dark eyes, sharp cheeks framed by a day's stubble, and his sleek attire give off a magnetism that's difficult to ignore.
Each ex-Marine, with their own brand of charisma, has, for years, occupied my most indulgent daydreams.
