Betsy tosses the broom into the corner of the storage room with a clatter and faces me. She doesn’t look happy. I mean, she normally doesn’t look happy, but shereallydoesn’t look pleased by my news. She copies my stance and crosses her arms over her chest, frown firmly in place.
“I don’t need any personal growth.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. Hard. When I calm enough to speak, she’s only scowling harder. “Seriously? Can’t seeanyroom for growth?”
She marches past me, flicking my pec muscle. “Rude.”
“Hey!” I spin and follow after her into the front part of the boutique. “You can’t just flick me and run.”
We both stop short when we see two women perusing the racks. They both look up, watching us with little smiles in place, like they have a secret they don’t intend to share.
“Hi, ladies, welcome.”
Betsy stays silent. Shocker.
One of the women holds up a shirt. “Can I try this on?”
“Sure. Betsy would be pleased to help you.” I give Betsy a shove on her back to get her moving. I can hear her hard swallow, but she jolts into action, taking the shirt from the woman and leading her to the two tiny changing rooms on the far side of the shop.
I walk over to the other woman and help her select a few items for a PTO meeting coming up. Just as I’m handing off her selections to Betsy for the other fitting room, the first woman comes out in her original outfit, the shirt in hand. She’s running her thumb over it like she’s trying to decide if it’s soft enough to buy.
“Any chance you have a buy one get one today?” she asks Betsy.
Betsy steals a glance at me, but when I don’t jump in to help, she answers the woman. “No, I’m sorry.”
The woman is not deterred. “Are you sure, honey?”
Betsy stands up straighter and I’m about to walk over there to break up whatever she’s fixin’ to do. I probably should have specified that flipping off customers is heavily frowned upon.
“If I could change the policy, I’d be the boss, but here we are,” Betsy answers with a sickly sweet smile and the thickest accent I’ve heard outside the Bayou.
The woman pauses, but then relents, saying she’ll take the one shirt, then. Her friend comes out of the fitting room with two of her selections and I use the opportunity to show Betsy howto work the register. She wraps and bags their purchases while watching what I do. The second I drop the receipt in their bags, Betsy slips into the back room again, the little scaredy-cat.
The first woman leans in and whispers, “Is that your new employee? The one you fancy?”
I frown. “She’s my new employee, yes, but I don’t fancy her. Where’d you hear that?” If I can get a name, maybe I can squash the rumor before everyone’s heard it.
The woman pouts, like I’ve stolen all her fun. “Well, Effie said she walked in on you two flirting with each other. That you were a couple.”
I give them a wide grin, even though that kind of thing pisses me off inside. “Effie has quite the imagination. I’m sorry to tell you there’s no flirting and no couple.”
The other woman sighs, clearly disappointed. “Well, shoot. I hear opposites attract, you know.”
I tilt my head graciously. “Understood. But still no.”
They both leave and I feel terrible, like I just told two little kids that Santa wasn’t real. But then that gives me an idea. Effie thought we were flirting and then two women came in, shopped, got the gossip, and made a purchase. Maybe I just need to flirt my way into a profitable boutique!
“Betsy!” I holler.
She comes clomping out from the back, looking irritated that I interrupted her excessive cleaning. “What?”
I scratch my chin. “You any good with acting?”
Her eyebrows are nearly touching in the middle as she looks at me with disgust.
I sigh and drop my hand to my side. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”
“Why?”
