CHAPTER1
Five weeks until Christmas
For Tom Webster,today was typical for this time of year.In other words, busy.Decades of marketing and commercialization had turned consumers into Shopping Terminators during the holidays, and in retail, “the holiday season” had arrived back in late October.
As The Décor Store’s top sales associate, he scrambled around the floor that Monday before Thanksgiving assisting customers looking for the right knickknack and furniture item that would complete their souls—or at least their living rooms.
“Excuse me, what do you think of this end table?”A woman stopped him as he carried an ottoman up to the register for another customer.She stared at the piece of furniture, searching for meaning as if it were a piece of Impressionist art.
“This line is fantastic quality.I love the cherry color of the wood.What color is your couch?”
“Taupe.”
“Perfect.That contrast will really make it pop.I’ve had this end table for years, and it’s held up.”While that would seem to be an obvious line, it was the truth.
“It would go well, but…” She creased her brow and rubbed her chin.“It seems a little plain, don’t you think?”
“Think of it as a blank slate.If you do something like this…” Tom put down the ottoman.He plucked a table lamp from a nearby display and jogged to the back corner for a red-tinted vase.He organized the lamp and vase on the end table.“This adds more color and dimension.What do you think?”
“I love the combination!I’m moving into a townhouse.He got to keep the house in the divorce.”For some, this might seem like an overshare, but it was normal for Tom.He had found that for the upper-middle-class wives that spent their weekdays shopping in the Oakville Mall, retail employees like him doubled as therapists and life coaches.
“He may have the house, but you have the style,” Tom said.
“You’re right.”She got choked up for a second.“You’re right.I’ll take the whole thing,” she said, gesturing to the table, lamp, and vase.
Tom leaned in.“If you take the floor model as is, I can try and get you fifteen percent off.Usually, we’re only authorized to do ten, but I want you to have a great holiday season in your beautiful new place.”
“Thank you so much!”She almost tried to hug him, but stopped herself.
“My pleasure.I just need to talk to my manager.”
“You mean you’re not the manager?You should be!”she said.
He smiled politely, even if the statement had an unintentional sting.
Tom dropped off the ottoman to the customer waiting by the register and found the store manager in front setting up a new furniture display.He went off a strict layout sent down from corporate.
“Antonio?”Tom’s voice shook in his throat.He braced himself for some Antonio smolder that would go straight to his core...and other appendages.
“How’s my best employee doing?”
Why Antonio was a store manager at a suburban Décor Store and not on aMen’s Healthcover was beyond Tom.
“Good.I’m good.Doing good.”
Ever since Antonio transferred to the store a year and a half ago, Tom was smitten, perpetually thunderstruck by his full lips, crisply ironed shirts, and perfectly styled hair.
“I need manager approval,” Tom said.“This woman wants the floor model of the Lorden end table.I was hoping to give her fifteen percent off.”
“Is it really scratched up?”
“No.Maybe a small nick on one of the legs.”Tom wondered what Antonio’s bare legs looked like.Muscular calves with a dusting of hair.The Décor Store had an unfortunate dress code of pants-only, even in the summer.“She’s having a rough time.She just got divorced, right before the holidays.Imagine if you and Milo broke up this time to year.”
Tom imagined it all the time.And then he imagined comforting Antonio in the stock room and on the table in the break room.
“Not like that would ever happen, but come on, Antonio.”Tom gave him his best flirty smile.“It’s the holidays.Have a heart.”
Antonio smiled back, charmed by Tom’s pitch.And maybe more?Tom knew it was pointless to pine for his happily coupled boss, but that smolder…
