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Gross . . . but expected.
“Hannah.”
“Carpenter told me we’d be getting a new employee. Wanted to come say hi. Probably pretty lonely up here.”
“Yeah, I thought I would be— nevermind.”
“He giving you a hard time?”
“Doesn’t he give everyone a hard time?”
The glint of amusement in Ian’s eyes tells me that no, he doesn’t. And Mason said there would be no special treatment.
“He probably just wants you to prove yourself.”
“How do I prove myself answering calls? Go out and dance in front of the shop to get more customers?”
“Depends on what kind of dance,” he chuckles. “Just do what he tells you. He’ll make it worth your while. Maybe even let you out to work in the garage.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes again. Mason will let me in the garage when hell freezes over.
“I’ll make sure to answer the phone really, really well, so maybe he’ll let me out to play with the big kids.”
Ian grins. “All I’m saying is just take the initiative.”
I eye him, and that cheerfulness dissipates. “You’re a mole, aren’t you?”
He pauses for a moment, studying me. Time passes slowly for that split second, but before I can analyze it, that smile returns.
Weird.
“No, he didn’t send me in here to try and get you fired. I’m just saying the place could use some cleaning. Customers can’t even sit down up here.”
Immediately, I shake my head. “He said not to touch anything.”
Ian waves a hand. “He was just pissed off because it was morning and we were up late the night before.”
Doing what, I wonder?
“Mason’s a good guy. You’ve just got to win him over.”
I’m not winning shit over. He’s the one who acts like I’m Typhoid Mary, walking around and handing out death warrants.
Sadly, I think those days have passed. I did win him over, one time. It was the closest I’ve ever felt to the sun. Electric. Dangerous. Now, it’s gone.
“Thanks for the advice,” I grumble, memories of the past flashing through my mind like some kind of messed up zoetrope. Mom, Missy, Mason, and I. A little glass bottle. A closet.
A sinister smile.
“Anytime, rookie.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Rookie sounds like an insult.
“Nah, that’s your nickname, now. Everyone here has one.”
“Okay, what’s yours?”
