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“As always it’s a pleasure to see you, Amber,” I say, somehow managing to keep my cool as I grip the handle of the shopping cart a little harder.
Stupidly, she stands in front of the cart so I can’t move without making a scene.
I don’t have the energy for this woman right now. Hell, I don’t have the energy for anything, honestly.
I take a deep breath before speaking. A couple of years ago, my first instinct would’ve been to lose my shit on her. I wouldn’t have cared who saw or if the cops were called because I was in the middle of a disturbance, but my life isn’t my own anymore. My responsibilities dictate how I respond to people now.
“I’m not giving you any information about my sister and her husband.”
She seems displeased with the lack of information.
“It honestly doesn’t surprise me,” she says, only moments after declaring she never would’ve guessed something like this could’ve happened to them. “Your sister was always a little out in left field.”
“Have the day you deserve, Amber.”
I jerk the cart toward me, forcing her red-tipped fingernails to release the end of my cart. She’s huffing, her indignation an echo in my head as I turn around and head toward the dairy section, praying my bad luck doesn’t continue when I get to the register.
It’s clear that Amber Rogers doesn’t have a problem taking care of herself. Her hair is damn near perfect although a dyed blonde I’d never consider using. Her nails are done, and although I didn’t bother to look at her feet, I bet her toes are the same color.
After putting the half gallon of milk into the cart, I take a glance at my own nails. Despite working in a full-service salon, my own hands look trashed. I haven’t worked at the place I’m at very long so the bonds I had with the other stylists at my old job haven’t been formed yet. At my old job, we’d do each other’s hair and nails, making sure we always looked great for our clientele. No one at the new place has offered, and I haven’t seen that same level of energy there at all.
My heart races as I start unloading the groceries onto the conveyor belt. I would normally do self-check, but I figure it would be easier to have a cashier take things off if I need to remove items than it would be to have to call an attendant.
I greet her the same way I normally would, but I can hear the edge of fear in my voice.
Life isn’t supposed to be this hard.
I stare at the total, the threat of tears once again a real thing. I could easily take a few things off but I asked the boys this morning if they wanted anything from the store, and each of them gave me a small list. The thought of going home without those things right now breaks my heart.
Instead of pulling out my bank debit card, I pull out my credit card and swipe it. My pulse rages when it takes a few seconds longer than normal for it to be approved. It would be just my luck for this not to work.
The cash register door pops open at the same time I hear the receipt being printed.
I breathe a sigh of relief when the cashier hands me the printed paper.
“Thank you,” I tell her, my graciousness having to do with more than just her service today.
After pulling my bags from the rotating rack and placing them in the shopping cart, I head toward the exit, only to see Amber standing to the side having a conversation with Lucy Bennett, another gossip from high school.
Neither one stops talking, nor do they look away from me as I walk toward the exit. I know without a doubt they’re talking about Janet. I also don’t doubt they will also continue to have such conversations, altering the interaction I had with Amber to fit her narrative. It won’t stop until something else worthy of their gossip comes along.
Some days I wish I could just pack everything I own and leave this damn town.
Chapter 7
Stormy
“Hello, Mr. Chilton,” the nice woman behind the desk says with a smile as I climb off the elevator. “Mr. Black has been expecting you.”
She hits a few keys on her keyboard before standing.
“I’m Pam.”
“Nice to meet you, Pam.”
“Hey,” a man says, approaching with his hand out. “Deacon Black.”
“Vincent Chilton, but please call me Stormy.”
