Chapter 6
Lexi
The front was still dark, but I could see lights on in the back. It’d sort of surprised me when Sam had said he was closed on Sundays. He didn’t strike me as the particularly religious type. Then again, when had I ever been a good judge of character?
As I approached the door, my lungs burned from where I’d been unconsciously holding my breath. Why was I so nervous? There was no reason for it. This was only a part-time job. Just because my boss was the pinnacle of male perfection didn’t mean anything would, or could, happen between us. The quickest way to mess up a job was to start sleeping with the boss or co-workers.
Or so I’d heard.
Aside from a misstep or two, I didn’t have much experience in that regard. Much less where work was concerned since the only job I’d ever held was at my mother’s occult shop in Salem. But it didn’t matter because I wasn’t there for sex anyway. I was only there to bake, and I wasn’t going to screw it up by being inappropriate with my hot boss.
I’d already told myself that relationships were off the table for a while, and I needed to stay committed to that, at least. Taking a break from guys altogether was the best thing for my sanity right now. I needed to step back and focus on myself and what I wanted my future to look like.
Pushing all irrelevant thoughts aside, I shook my arms out and pushed the unlocked door open. I had my chef coat tied around my waist, baring my shoulders in a black tank, my bracelets adjusted to sit snugly around my upper arms. Early September was hot enough, but I had a heat of my own that only added to my misery. Sophie had made fun of me once for being able to walk outside in a bikini in a snowstorm.
My magic had its advantages sometimes. Pyrokinesis was volatile, pun intended, but it came in handy occasionally. Unless I needed some light at a movie theater. I smacked my cheeks, putting a lid on those thoughts.
Baking. Right.
Sam stepped out of the back, a black t-shirt with red lettering on the top left stretched across hischest. His smile was so gorgeous it made mychesthurt, and his eyes practically glowed in the sunlight streaming through the picture windows. I tried to say hi, then realized a second too late mychest[23]hurt because I’dstopped breathing again.
I was horrified when he laughed at my audible gasping breath.
“No need to be so nervous, Ms. Sutton,” he said. His voice was as silky as his hair looked, and there was a slight accent I couldn’t identify in a few of his words. “Come on back and we’ll get started.”
After I relearned how to breathe, I finally managed speech. Good for me! “Ms. Sutton is my mother. Please, call me Lexi.”
Sam gave a slight incline of his head. “Then I insist on Sam.”
As soon as he turned away, I pressed my lips together to hold off a smile and followed him into the back. Was it unprofessional to be on a first-name basis with the boss? At twenty-four, I felt like I should have known these things, but I’d never really needed to work before.
My mother had given me everything I could possibly need growing up, and my father had made sure we had more than enough to afford it. With my indecision on a major at UMass, I never would have been able to afford to stay as long as I had without him. He’d been annoyingly insistent on helping me financially until I found my calling, including providing a monthly stipend that was far more than I needed to cover my half of the bills I shared withSophie[24].
I wondered how he would feel if he knew I got a job, despite all of that money.
“First thing’s first.” Sam took me into a small office around the corner, tucked behind the rack ovens and by the small loading dock. He handed me a small stack of papers and a pen. “Paperwork.”
Disappointment must’ve flashed across my face because he laughed.
“No worries,” he said. “It’s my first time hiring someone, too, so we’ll walk through it together.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Is it that obvious it’s my first real job?”
Sam lifted his shoulders in a vague gesture too fluid to be a shrug and turned one of the seats toward me. “Most of the college students who come through usually ask for an application.”
“If you’ve had other people apply, then why are you still the only one working here?” I took the papers and sat, clicking the pen. It was a nervous habit I had trouble breaking, which was why I favored pencils.
“No one else seemed like the right fit.” He sat down beside me, entirely too close even though there was at least a foot of space between us.
I clicked the pen again, then set it down before I got on my own nerves. “So what made me different?”
The corner of his mouth tilted up and I clamped down hard on my power when I heard a faint buzz from his computer. “Because you phrased it less like you were looking for any old job and more like you wanted to help.”
Wow, he’d gotten an accurate read on me right away. Maybe he’d taken Psychology once upon a time, too. I cleared my throat and turned my attention to the papers to distract myself, but his gaze settled on me like a lead weight.
“Okay. Yeah.” I clicked the pen again and went through each page methodically. “This is my first real job, but I do have a little experience helping my mom around her store. So I guess I have some customer service experience?”
“If you can operate a register, I’ll count that as a win.” I could hear the grin in his voice, and I resolved myself not to look or I’d end up staring. “If you don’t mind my asking, what kind of store was it?”
