I step away. “Of course.” I know how important this contract is to him since our regular supplier pulled out last minute. The old toy store has struggled to make a profit for years. Nobody wants handmade wooden toys anymore. Even though Nick insists on keeping a small section of the store traditional, it’s the high-tech toys that keep this place afloat.
Nick strides down the hall, and I make my way to his office, where my computer is. The small window in the gloomy room lets in little light. Engines rumble outside. A pedestrian crossing sign beeps along with a siren in the distance, as if the town has its own orchestra.
The leather on my old chair creaks when I shuffle my full behind into it. I fire up my computer. Another thing that’s seen better days. Like everything else around here. If selling toys doesn’t work out, I’m sure Nick could go into the antique business.
Bells chime on my phone. I swipe right against Sara’s name. “Everything all right?”
“It is now he’s gone. Want a choco mocha from the staffroom?”
“Yummy. I’m in the office.” I shake my head with a smile.
Sara has the sort of attitude where if she’s getting paid minimum wage, then she’s putting in minimum effort. I can’t blame her. The guy wouldn’t even give her time off.
Within minutes, she’s opening the door to Nick’s office. “Here, love.” Sara places a large mug of hot chocolate on the old wooden desk with peeled varnish. “Let that warm your cockles. It’s freezing in here.” She rubs her arms over her thick woolly cardigan as she takes residence in Nick’s swivel chair behind his large, old-fashioned desk.
“Thank you.” My hands wrap around the mug, warming my fingers as I inhale the chocolaty aroma. “Is it cold on the shop floor still?” I blow on the cream and sprinkles floating on top of my drink.
“It’s not too bad now. We have a few customers and we have the electric fire going in Santa’s village.” She spins around in Nick’s chair like a kid on a roundabout.
“That electric stove heater was just for show to give off a warm glow next to the Christmas tree. Do you know how much the electricity and gas bill is for this place?” I see the bills come in each month and I also see the worry etched on Nick’s face. “Don’t keep the fire on for long. It’s too expensive.”
“All right. I know you have a soft spot for Mr Scrooge.”
“I do not have a soft spot. I just want to keep my job.” My large bottom shuffles in the chair, squeaking the leather. Muscles twitch between my thighs, reminding me I do in fact have a soft spot. One that’s never been touched by human hands. Well, mine, of course, but they don’t count.
“Did you speak to him?” She sips on her drink, leaving a cream tash above her lip that she licks off.
“Not yet. I need to wait for the right time.” Clicking on my inbox, I open up my emails. “I know he cancelled the Christmas party this year, but I thought I’d organise a night out.”
“Sounds neat.”
“What did you need time off for, anyway?” I tap the keys, penning an email as I talk to Sara.
“Chris asked me if I wanted to go to Scotland with him to visit his family next week.” She twists side to side in Nick’s chair.
“Oh. That’s quick.”
“Not really. I’ve been seeing the guy for two months.”
“And you did put out on the first night.” Sharing a flat with Sara this last year has been interesting. My oldest school friend is the total opposite of me. She was the one who told me to apply for this job when Nick’s old PA retired.
“We’re not all scared of snakes, Joy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
It means, when are you going to give up your V-card?”
I roll my eyes. “You know, virginity is a social construct.”
“Says the girl who wants to hang on to it.”
I blow out a puff of air that lifts my fringe off my forehead. “Look, if I could get rid of it, I would. I just haven’t met anyone I want to have sex with.”
“What about Steve? He likes you.”
I pinch my eyebrows. “Steve who?”
“Steve from the sweets and treats counter.”
