I fling myself at the door, my groan of frustration getting higher pitched than anything I let myself express when I’m at work.
Where the hell is the sales associate?
This is one ofthoseplaces that’s supposed to have the best support staff.
“You should go to 118 Willowstone,” Cooper Rock said to me this morning when I ran into him at Fireballs headquarters. And no, that’s not the address. That’s what the boutique is actually called. “Waverly says it’s really great for personal attention. She shops there too.”
My first mistake today was taking advice from Cooper Rock.
My second mistake was taking advice from Cooper when it involves his wife, who’s an amazing person that I feel comfortable calling a friend, but also one of the biggest international pop stars to ever exist.
My third mistake was forgetting that sheaths and I will never be friends no matter how much I like wearing dresses.
“Let. Me.Out!” I shriek.
Am I hyperventilating? Are there dots dancing in my vision?
I do believe there are.
Where the hell is the sales person?
It’s time. It’s time to get out of here and go searching for help. I bang into the door with a crash that echoes through the fitting room.
No, that’s another crash. Then a bigger crash, and then a man’s voice.
“Let her go!” he barks as the door hits me right back, sending me flying backward against the opposite wall. “You don’t get to assault a woman in—oh. You’re alone.”
I can’t see him, but he’s definitely a man. Vaguely familiar voice.
Familiar enough that goosebumps break out on my arms.
Or possibly everything feels familiar when you’re about to die.
“Saleslady,” I gasp.
There’s a very, very long pause.
Or possibly it feels that way because every breath is getting harder.
“Where is she?” I ask.
“I—I don’t know. I’ve been looking for her too.”
Mother. Fucking. Fucker. “Get. Me. Out. Of. This.”
Morphing into Addie-in-Charge mode and issuing orders is second nature.
It’s what I had to do for years to survive coaching professional male athletes alongside professional male coaches all day long.
Give no quarter. Do not smile. Don’t let them think you’re weak.
I’ve loosened up after five and a half seasons with the Copper Valley Fireballs, but lately, I’ve been getting home just as exhausted as I was my first year here.
“You want me to go look for her again?” the man says.
That voice.
That voice.
