“It also might affect your chances of getting the job.” I chuckled. Wasn’t that more important?
He frowned and glanced across the sales floor at a mirror. “Seriously, should I go home and change? Or I could try to find an outfit here.”
“No, you look nice.” Undoing one more button might help with the tightness over his chest, but I didn’t want to risk a flirtation. I set the boxes on the counter and nodded at his clipboard. “Is Andre on your list?”
“What? Oh. I’ve got my resume, a list of questions, and a pen.” He held one up as evidence.
“So prepared. He’ll definitely hire you when he sees that,” I joked.
“Thanks.” He brightened, slipping the pen under the clip.
Did he not catch the sarcasm? All he had to do was be able to lift at least fifty pounds, and seeing as he’d carried me across thebar the other night, that qualification was already met. “I’ll tell him you’re here,” I said.
Zack did this weird mix of a nod and a bow, like some kind of gentleman. Were his head jerks in high school more than general acknowledgment?
I pushed the thought away and jogged up the stairs. “Zack Turner’s here.”
“Great. I’ll be down shortly.” Andre pushed back from the desk and walked to the full-size mirror hanging on the wall. He stroked his tie and raised his chin, inspecting his face at various angles in the bare bones warehouse lighting.
Weird, but okay. I padded down the stairs and went to the shoe window. “He says he’ll be right down.”
“Thanks.” Zack cracked his neck and steeled himself, his knuckles turning white as he clutched the clipboard to his chest. Since when did he worry about anything, let alone warehouse jobs?
“Relax. You’re going to do great. Andre is nothing compared to those two-hundred-pound guys who used to lunge at you every game," I said.
He chuckled and relaxed just enough for color to come back to his fingers. “I’ll try to live up to your recommendation.”
“You better.” I arched my eyebrow and leaned on the counter. Did athletes do better with a challenge?
Someone cleared their throat. “Excuse me. Are you in line?”
Zack jerked left, revealing a short customer behind him. “Oh, no. Sorry. Go ahead,” he said.
I straightened my spine. “What do you need?”
Shorty handed me a shoe. “Eight and eight and a half. Can you also see if it comes in black?”
“Sure.” I darted to the back and scanned for the matching model numbers until I got the shoes. On my way toward thewindow, my phone blinked with a notification. Had Zack texted me on his way in? I peeked at my messages.
Fury shot through my veins. The entitlement of this man.
Technically, Zack wasn’t even a friend. He was an old acquaintance who wouldn’t be ‘forgotten’ per that stupid New Year’s Eve song, “Old Lang’s Eye” or whatever it was called. We only reconnected because of his job and mine, if shopping with his cousin counted.
Theo tried to video chat me. Unbelievable. He knew I was at work. I stormed to the shoe window and dropped off the customer’s shoes.
“Did they come in black?” Shorty asked.
“No,” I said flatly. If they had, I would’ve brought them. Just like I wouldn’t have dated Theo if I knew what a self-centered leech he’d been.
The customer gathered their shoes and walked off. Zack eyed me, standing sentinel by the side of the desk as the next customer walked up. I had to keep working. It was a nice distraction. By the third customer, Andre still hadn’t come down, and Zack was shifting his weight on his feet. His nerves were building on my own, so I thundered upstairs. Andre smoothed his suit jacket and sipped from his flask, transfixed by his reflection.
