My sneakers padded against the stairs. These shoes were made for walking. And that was exactly what I did. I wasn’t going to let him or anyone else walk all over me.
I slapped the bell onto the counter, then grabbed the last of my hidden Fancee’s bags.
My shift was over. I had one more delivery to make.
Once I clocked out, I peeled off my green tee to reveal a sparkling camisole underneath, topped that with a hot jacket, then marched straight over to Armando and Hitch. Theo slouched against the entryway, stupid and beautiful.
At the rustle of bags and swish of my hips, he glanced up from his phone. His eyes widened. “Nicole?”
Aw, he remembered my name. Here, I thought I was just one of the ‘babes.’ I smirked and thrust the bag at him. “This is for you.”
His face lit up. “You got me something?”
“I gave you enough,” I said, unfazed by his gaping mouth. “This is the last of your stuff. Thanks for the boost in confidence. We had a few good memories, but now you’re blocked.” I walked away with an extra sway to my hips. This was it. Freedom. Empowerment. The skylights in the center of the mall beamed down on me and the path ahead. Gilded hearts glittered from dangling strings.
This year, I’d found a fabulous future: a loyal, hard-working partner who supported me, a fun, sweet friend, a family who actually cared to be with me without using me, and financial means to pursue my dreams. As much as I loved modeling, I was happy to have something grounded in reality, something that allowed me the grace to grow, to be messy, to find passion in selling something other than being pretty. I was creative. I was strong. I was…me.
I pulled up a text to Zack, but I wanted so much more than to smile at his icon or my lock screen. Taking a deep breath, I dialed his number. It went to his voicemail. Of course. He was probably still working. Still, just the sound of his voice wove joy into my steps.
“Hey, this is Zack. Leave a message.”
My phone beeped, and I smiled, cradling it against my cheek.
“Hey, Zack. I know only old people actually call each other, but I wanted to let you know I gave my two-week notice. I might’ve been a little mean. Andre was passed out at his desk and…Well, I’ll tell you about it later. I hope you had a great day. Love you, bye.”
Love love love.
I sang to Stylin’ Myles on the ride home, the window cracked open so a cool breeze filtered through my hair.
Before I got back to my apartment, Zack called me and put the impromptu concert on pause. “Hey, I got your voicemail. How are you feeling?” he asked.
I jammed the window button to roll it up. “Great. Emotional, but great. Soon, I’ll be able to focus on content creation. Wellness and fashion. Maybe a patch of humor. I’ll have to create some kind of schedule so I don’t sit around and wear yoga pants all day.”
“You look great in yoga pants,” he said.
I chuckled. “You think I look good in everything. Especially that red dress.”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, we still need to make a date for you to wear it.”
“My schedule opens up in two weeks,” I teased.
“Save a few dates for me. What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing red-dress worthy. I was just going to curl up and watch some TV.” I fixed my hair via my reflection in the rearview mirror. Although I was still fabulous, the idea of re-applying makeup and squeezing into heels after a long day on my feet was more exhausting than enthralling.
“Want me to pick up dinner?” Zack asked. “You liked the chicken sandwiches from that one place, right? Or should I get you champagne? I can drop stuff off if you don’t feel like hanging.”
Wow, he actually cared about celebrating me. And my boundaries.
“You don’t have to get me anything. I like the sound of chicken and champagne, though. Not sure about having themtogether." I chuckled. That taste-test combo might make a good video. "But I am craving something.”
“What?”
“Your company.”
He snorted a laugh. “I’m on my way.”
“I’ll get the bath ready,” I teased.
