He nods, more earnest now. “He also said I’m really observant.” His gaze flicks briefly to Erik, then back to me.
I glance at Erik. His jaw ticks once, an almost invisible acknowledgement.
“Have you ever worked retail before?” I ask.
“No. But I helped at the deli during rushes. Sven says I’m good with people who are stressed out and hungry, so that’s kind of the same, right?
I can’t help smiling. The kid is trying so hard it hurts.
He looks at me rather than Erik, when he says, “If you give me a chance, Ms. Claire, I’ll do right by the store. And by you.”
My throat tightens. He means it.
Erik folds his arms and watches me, not interfering, but I feel his presence like a second gravity.
I’m exhausted. My schedule is full of pumping alarms, herbal doses, opening and closing shifts at the shop, and evenings with Erik. I don’t want to admit I’m worn out.
But I am. “Can you start tomorrow?” I ask.
Leander’s whole face changes, like someone turned on all his internal lights. “Yes, ma’am. Absolutely.”
“You’ll start with mornings for now,” I say. “You will begin by opening with me, unpacking shipments, and restocking. We’ll ease you into customer service once you know the layout.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he repeats.
“Claire is fine,” I say, amused.
“Right. Claire.” He grins, wide and genuine. “Thank you.”
“You can look around now,” I tell him. “Start memorizing shelves.”
He darts into the aisles with intent, already scanning spines like he’s mapping the place.
As soon as he’s out of earshot, I turn to Erik. “You did all this… why?”
“You needed support.” His eyes soften, but his posture stays precise. “And I can’t watch you run yourself into the ground.”
“It’s just a job,” I murmur.
“No.” His voice drops. “It’s your life. And I intend to protect it.”
My breath stumbles.
“Leander’s clean,” he continues. “He’s my cousin and Sven’s brother, so that is good enough for me.”
“Bossy,” I whisper under my breath.
“Effective,” he counters with a smirk.
Behind a display, Leander’s voice pops up. “Uh… Claire? Do we alphabetize Stephen King by series or title?”
“Title,” I call out.
He gives a thumbs-up and disappears again.
Erik’s hand lightly grazes the small of my back, a subtle touch that still manages to ground me.
“You made the right choice,” he murmurs.
