“You’d think that one purchase order wouldn’t be that hard to find,” I tell her. “But I looked and couldn’t find the damn thing.”
In the time it takes Jack to call Earl, Chloe digs into the mountain of papers on the desk. She’s organized them by date, which…well fuck, I should have thought to do that.
When Jack comes back to the desk, Chloe’s got things looking neat enough for someone to sit down and work.
Jack whistles. “Shit, Chloe. You’re hired. When can you start?”
Her mouth falls open, and she looks from him to me.
“I’ll butt out,” I say, nodding. “Let you two talk details.”
I wander around the shop, checking what Jack’s working on while they chatter, but I keep one eye on Chloe.
She may have been shy and quiet around my family, but she’s looking Jack in the eye and laughing, seemingly totally at ease with him. Seeing her connecting with him like that sets a little ember on fire in my gut. It’s threatening to turn into a raging jealous inferno when she catches my eye over Jack’s shoulder.
She gives me a saucy smirk and draws her lower lip into her mouth.
Something tight and hot uncoils in my chest at that look.
The pouty lips, the light in her eyes. She even tosses a lock of hair over her shoulder, not that I think she does it on purpose. Her body seems lighter, freer, and she’s moving around more. It’s fucking hot. And now that I know what she’s got under those sweaters, I want more of it. More of her.
“Yo.” Jack turns suddenly and calls for me, so I join them back at the desk.
Chloe’s cheeks are flushed, and she looks happy.
Jack looks relieved.
“Looks like Chloe’s going to fit right in,” he says. He extends his hand to shake hers again, and I almost interrupt to tell him he already did that and there’s no reason to touch her again, but I stop myself and just watch.
She is practically bouncing as I clap my buddy on the shoulder and let him know I’ll see him tomorrow.
Chloe follows me back to the truck, but before I can turn over the engine, she reaches across the seats and squeezes my arm. “Thank you,” she says, her voice stronger than I think I’ve heard it. “With what they are paying me, I’ll be able to afford even a top-of-the-line, brand-new, all the bells and whistles phone in about a month.” She looks down at her hand on my sleeve, and if she’s thinking about moving it, she decides against it. She leaves it there and squeezes. “I may shut down the store for a few weeks while I get things sorted out. We’ll see. But Jack said I can make my own hours. I’ll find a way to balance it out.”
“You’ll be able to afford a kick-ass phone in a month?” I repeat. “That’s great. That’s how long I was planning to extend an interest-free loan for.”
She cocks her chin and looks at me. “I’m sorry? What?”
I grin and turn on the engine, then head out toward the mall. “I’m going to buy you a phone today, but it’s a loan. Thirty days interest-free. You can start paying me back once you’ve got some cash flowing.”
She starts to complain, but I stop her with a hand. “Chloe, what’s the big deal? Are you going to pick the most expensive phone in the place?”
She shakes her head.
“Fine. I’m offering to shell out the cash to get you set up today. It’s a safety issue. I won’t be able to sleep at night if I think you’re going around town without even a way to call the cops. While we’re out today, I have a whole list of things to do, remember? So, buckle up and start thinking about what you want in a new phone.”
She falls silent again, and I’m sure she’s gnawing right through her lower lip.
“Franco,” she finally says, breaking through the quiet. “Why? Why are you helping me? I don’t think I can do anything to pay you back for all this… I mean, of course I’ll pay you back for the phone. Like, no question about it. But giving me a place to stay last night and making me breakfast and now this… It’s a lot.”
“When I was in my twenties, I was sloppy,” I say. “I had a big ego. Big balls. Big head. The whole nine.” I laugh and shake my head. “I was a shithead from the word go.” I flick a glance at her.
She fully turns in the passenger seat, listening intently as I talk.
“Someone helped me, and now it’s my turn to help you. That’s what friends do,” I explain, but I’m lying to her and myself.
Sure, we’re friends…but part of me wants to be so much more. And if I’m being honest, that scares the living shit out me.
10
