A strange sense of hope fluttered through my chest like a hundred downy feathers.
He trusted me with a coworker, or at least one of his casual friends.
Maybe one day, he’d trust me with his heart again.
Holding his gaze was as uncomfortable as squeezing myself into shapewear, so I whipped back around. There was nothing wrong with who I was now, I reminded myself.
Besides, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Reconciliation wasn’t on the table or in the racks. We were over. Done. I had to move on from the fantasy of the wallflower and the quarterback.
“Okay,” the warehouse guy said. “I’ll get them to you along with the care rules.”
“Thanks.” I twisted myself into a knot and glanced at my ex. “Thank you, too.”
He tightened his grip around the dolly. “No problem, Nic.”
I hurried past him before I did something stupid like ask how he’d been. We weren’t friends anymore. Just acquaintances.
My heart pounded, and my butt sweat. I fanned myself with my hideous green T-shirt.
Why was I more nervous talking to him now than I had been in high school? Maybe because I’d let him in since then. I’d taken a chance. Gotten rejected. Well, I wouldn’t give him a chance to do that again.
Hell, I’d probably quit. I could find another part-time job or switch departments to one less localized by the warehouse. Maybe I didn’t need Fancee’s health care.
Better make the best of my discount while I still had it, though.
Between bouts of helping customers, I used the computer to browse our wares. I could build whole outfits like this. It’d make great video content. But what was worth the investment? Footsteps clanged down the stairs, so I switched to the shoe department tab.
Andre strode up and scoffed. “Shopping during your shift?”
At least I wasn't drinking on it, I almost chided back.
“I’m analyzing trends so I can predict what to recommend for the season.” I gave him a plastic smile.
For whatever reason, he bought it.
“Good job. I like to see that initiative. Can you straighten those displays? I want them all angled toward the walkway.” He demonstrated how to adjust it as if we hadn’t done the same damned thing every single day.
“Will do,” I said.
God, I couldn’t wait for Cassandra to get in and relieve me of this man, even if it was only for my lunch break.
I twisted the shoes in the right direction and tidied up our section. At least a few areas of my life were in order. I had money, and I had a plan.
I dropped some discarded single-use footie socks in the back and shuddered. I had no idea who’d been in those or how hygienic they’d been. I squeezed some hand sanitizer into my palm and spread it through my hands.
“Not big on feet?” Zack asked.
I started and turned to find him smiling and rubbing his ear.
Why was he back here? No dolly, no boxes… Did he want to talk to me?
I sat against the shoe repair station. “I already told you, it’s not my thing.”
“I know. And the Zeezy’s stuff is not for your clients.” At least it sounded like he believed me. He leaned one arm on the wall, his muscles straining his shirt. In this dark little corner, the dim lights were sensual.
Don’t touch him, I warned myself.
“You look good,” he said.
