“Next week?” I massaged my forehead with both hands and mentally flipped through my calendar. How many items did he need? Modding could take anywhere from minutes to months. This wasn’t a teeny-tiny favor, this was a Thing. “I don’t know, Sal. It seems unlikely.”
He crawled toward me and gave me puppy-dog eyes. “You’re the smartest person I know. If we–”
“Hey, stop harassing my employees,” Ash snapped.
I cringed and closed my tabs. Shit. Did she think we were goofing off? Or…flirting?
Cheeks burning, I tugged my cap down and snuck a glance at Sal, who trashed the tissue. He didn’t seem particularly frazzled, so maybe I was reading into things. It wasn’t like he’d said I had brains and beauty. He was begging me for tech help.
“I’m not bothering anybody.” He gestured to the empty store.
“She’s working. Something you should be doing,” she said.
“Working.” He smirked and shook his head at me.
I slumped over my PC and glowered at him. Hopefully, he wouldn’t rat me out for crafting.
He lifted his chin. “I was just asking her a question, but I’ll leave. If my presence is too distracting, I’ll stay out of your way during closing too.” He held his hands up and strutted out the store with a mocking sway to his hips, like he was making a show of his exit for an audience of two.
Ash rolled her eyes. “Oh, no, we’ll be all alone with wi-fi. Whatever will we do?”
“I know you’ll miss me,” he said, retreating to the mall.
She scoffed and strolled over. “Was he annoying you?”
“No, he was okay.” Overenthusiastic, but okay. “He wanted help with his girlfriend’s birthday present.”
“He tried to rope you into that?” Her eyes widened, and she leaned onto the ledge. “Hey, you don’t have to do shit for her, okay?”
“I know.” Why were they both being so weird about this? “Did he ask you for help too?”
She turned as if to make sure he was out of hearing range.
He’d shoved his hands in his pockets and slunk back to his toy store, no trace of the showman left.
“He won’t take my advice,” she said, watching him.
“On how to mod a special island?”
She set her mouth in a grim line. “I told him to break up with Janice.”
“Oh. Well, that wouldn't make a very good birthday present.”
“I guess.” She laughed, dragging her tablet off the counter. “He’s a nice guy. I just think he deserves better.”
“Right. Yes.” I didn’t want to gossip. That was wasteful. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t research them. “What’s his last name? And hers?”
Ash smirked and wrote down their information. I flexed my fingers over the keyboard. One way or another, I was going to repay my debt to him.
9
Research
Unfortunately, Salvatore Barbieri loved women. Or maybe they loved him. More than half the photos on his social media involved a group pic with various ladies across the spectrum of body types and ages. Not that he didn’t hang out with men, because he definitely did, and he had pictures of hamming it up on the drums with the guys in his band.
But which girl was Janice?
I flipped through his tagged album. He had a big, cheesy smile, even as a kid. Cute. Almost blonde, which was weird. Or maybe the aged photo washed him out. In the picture, five-year-old Sal proudly held up a wooden drum while an older man with big glasses rocked in a chair next to him. They had similar toothy, cute grins. Maybe that was his grandpa.
