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I look at him and give him a grateful smile. “A taser sounds like a good idea. Thanks for the suggestion, Nick.”
As I push the cart back to the register, the bell chimes, and Zoey enters. Her eye makeup is smeared, and she clutches the strap of her purse like her life depends on it. I raise my brow in concern as I stop the cart behind the counter.
“What happened?” Nick asks, forehead crinkling in worry.
Zoey shakes her head and tears up, taking a few steps closer to him. “My dad died,” she answers in a low, wobbly voice. She lets out a shaky breath before continuing. “They found him, all cut up. And it looked like he’d been there a while …”
Nick opens his arms. She races into his embrace, collapsing against his sturdy build as she lets out her emotions, heaving and sobbing. Eventually, she pulls away and wipes her tears on her leopard-print jacket. Nick gives her a sad but warm look, as if his own heart is also breaking into a million pieces.
I chew on my lip, trying to find the right words to say as I join them. “It’s going to be okay,” I tell her, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “We’re here for you.”
Zoey gives me a weak smile. “Thanks,” she says, her voice still unstable. “Actually, there is something you can do for me. I promised Jen I’d help her with her stand at the craft fair this weekend. Could you sub while I’m busy with the … funeral arrangements?”
Before I can point out that I have shifts this weekend, Nick pipes up. “Don’t worry about your shifts. I’ve got you covered. Brian can just deal with it.”
I suppose I have no choice; I can’t refuse when they’re both looking at me so expectantly. “Okay,” I say. “I’ll do it.”
Zoey smiles gratefully. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” She throws her arms around me. “I’ll let Jen know what’s going on. She’ll be delighted to have you as her company instead, anyway.”
I can’t help but chuckle. Zoey and Jen are complete opposites in terms of personality. I prefer being around the introverted Jen rather than the chatterbox Zoey. Admittedly, though, I’m anxious about the craft fair. But it’ll be an interesting experience to see what it’s like assisting with a stand.
As Nick escorts Zoey to the break room, someone enters the store. I look up to see Blake, a bag slung over his shoulder and a notepad in his hand, his face scrunched in concentration.
“Hey Blake,” I say, giving him a wave. “Renting any movies today?”
Blake looks up at me and smiles. “No, not today,” he replies. “Just returning one from the other day while I do some research.”
“Oh,” I say, failing to hide my disappointment. I’ve had fun recommending movies to him and was hoping to give him some new suggestions. He hasn’t been around the store lately, at least not when I’m on shift. And he never called me, either. “What kind of research?”
“For work.” He sets the bag atop the counter and pulls out the VHS tape. “I’m writing an article on the craft fair this weekend.”
I take the tape and enter Blake’s membership number into the register—not that I’ve memorized it by heart or anything. “Oh? What a coincidence. I got roped into helping my friend with her table. Maybe we’ll bump into each other.”
His face lights up with excitement. “That’d be great! My article is going to focus on the unique crafts and stories behind each vendor. You know, I don’t think I realized how much craftsmanship goes into so many things that may seem mundane at first glance.”
And I don’t think I realized how cute Blake is when he gets going like this, I think.
“What will your friend be selling?”
Suddenly, I feel like a shitty friend. “I’m not sure,” I admit, rubbing the nape of my neck sheepishly. “But I’m sure she’ll be worth interviewing. Or getting a quote from. Matter of fact, it’ll probably make her happy if you showed an interest in her work.”
He scribbles something on the notepad and shoves it into his pocket. “I’ll take your word for it.”
I give him his receipt, and he smirks at me as he takes it, his hand brushing against mine. I can’t help but blush as I clear my throat and force myself to focus. “Well, good luck with your article. I’ll keep an eye out for you at the fair.”
“Thanks,” he says, turning to leave. “I’ll see you there.”
NotI’ll see you around. A definiteI’ll see you there.
The thought of seeing Blake again preoccupies me for the rest of my shift, providing a pleasant distraction from the monotony of dealing with customer complaints. Particularly from Robert. He’s always griping about the available movies and claims he can never find anything good. No matter how many suggestions I offer, he rejects them and complains just for the sake of complaining.
And I swear he has a sixth sense about when I’m supposed to work. Like a radar so he can come in and annoy me in the last hour of my shift. He takes his time, scrutinizing the shelves. We’re four minutes to closing, and I’m about to lose my patience.
“We’re about to close,” I state, as firmly and as politely as I can.
Abruptly, he looks up and feigns surprise. “Oh, closing time already?” Glancing at his watch, he then turns around to select something from the shelf behind him with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to take my time,” he remarks casually before continuing to browse.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Sir,” I say, in a last-ditch effort to get him out of the store as soon as possible. “It’s almost closing time and I need to lock up.”
