I can’t help the smug grin that takes over my face. Betsy sees it and rolls her eyes behind the back of the customer. She gets her situated in a fitting room and lets her know she can find her other sizes if need be. Then Betsy swirls around and glares at me.
I have to swallow the laugh. God, she’s hilarious when she’s embarrassed. Reminds me of the day I met her when she dove headfirst into a rack right here in this boutique. Ten minutes later, the customer has an armload full of clothes as she approaches the register with Betsy in tow. We work side by side to scan the items, get them wrapped in tissue paper, and put into gift bags.
“I know I shouldn’t be buying all this, but the items are just so cute!” the customer gushes. “Plus, with my Cosi going to MidSouth, I have to load up on purple and gold, right?”
I shrug, letting my accent deepen. It’s good for sales for those from out of state. “Have to represent when you go to a game. And youhaveto go to the games. Best Saturday activity in all three surrounding counties!”
The woman smiles, reaching across to place her hand on my arm. “You make a woman feel better about spending money on herself.”
I flick a glance at Betsy, who’s now shooting daggers out her eyes at the location of the woman’s hand. “When your back’s against the wall, you just swipe that credit card, am I right?”
Betsy chokes. The customer is distracted from my little inside joke as I hand her both large shopping bags and slip a postcard in one.
“We’re having the Battle of the Boutiques next weekend. You should come back. Golden Halo will have clothes for your daughter.”
“Is that the cute shop across the square?”
“It is. My sister owns it, so I know she’ll take good care of Cosi.”
The woman leaves, looking like she’s headed to Golden Halo right now. I turn to Betsy to find her glaring at me with her hands on her hips.
“Did you just flirt with that woman to get sales?”
I shake my head. “No. I was actually flirting withyou.”
If Betsy’s ears get any redder, they might start bleeding.
She rolls her eyes and stomps back into the storage room to hang up clothes. My laugh follows her. We spend the rest of the day dancing around each other, me teasing her, Betsy flipping me off. As the last customer of the day heads out with her purchases, I flip the sign to closed and grin at the curtain separating me from Betsy.
“Hey, storm cloud!” I holler.
“What?” she hollers back.
I walk across the shop and flip back the curtain. Betsy’s sweeping the floor, which as her boss, I appreciate. But I have better things those hands could be doing. I pull the broom from her hands and lean it against the wall.
“Let’s go grab dinner.”
Betsy wrinkles her nose immediately. “No.”
Inside my head, I sigh. “Come on. It’s been a long day. I won’t even pay for your food.”
She spins on her heel and marches away from me. I follow. She goes around the counter and finds her purse under the computer. “Silas. No. We’re not dating.”
“I know! But we both have to eat to sustain life, so why not do it at the same time? At the same table.”
Betsy drills a finger in my chest. “No.”
I sigh for real this time. “Fine. Guess I’ll eat alone.”
Betsy saunters to the door of the boutique, ready to leave me in the dust. “Go find a customer to flirt with.”
And with that, she’s gone. I should be upset she turned me down, but instead, I’m smiling. Sure seems like she’s jealous of that one customer today. Betsy may act all aloof, but she didn’t like it when the woman touched me. And that right there is proof enough of the way Betsy feels deep, deep,deepdown in her heart to make this shiny happy day even shinier.
I’m whistling as I grab my stuff, turn off the lights, and lock up the boutique. I walk along the sidewalk outside the shops in the shade from the overhang, making a right turn on the Square to go by Saint’s Suits. Deuce is also locking up his shop at this hour.
“Hey,” I call out.
Deuce turns in my direction, his serious, customer-facing expression turning downright goofy when he sees me. He’s dressed down today, wearing slacks, leather loafers, a button-down shirt, and a vest. Is that a pocket watch on a gold chain? Jeez. I feel horribly underdressed in my wrinkled polo and khaki shorts, but nothing can dampen my good mood today. Those wrinkles are from Betsy’s fists when I kissed her this morning.
