Page 17 of I Saw You First

“Don’t go! I just got here!” It slips out and I’m not sure who I’m addressing, except I know that I don’t want to be left alone with John/Hulk Hogan.

“Eight a.m. comes pretty early,” Sam says, “especially when I’m on call for the baby’s two o’clock feeding.”

“Aw,” I coo. “How old is she?”

“Four months.”

“No wonder you were so worried the other night.”

“Let me show you a picture.” Sam pulls out his wallet, but Eric grabs him by the wrist.

“No way, man,” Eric says. “We’ll never get out of here if you start showing her pictures of la princesa. Eight a.m., remember?”

“I’m working at six,” I say. “I got you beat by two hours.”

“You are?” Wil asks. “Who put you on the early shift?”

“I think her name is Crystal. The operations manager?”

“Jesus,” he says. “She will never learn. Could you come in at ten? Media’s behind on cycle, and⁠—”

“What’s cycle?” I interrupt.

“A shipment of totes and boxes filled with music and movies that need to be sorted alphabetically by artist and category and then merchandised,” Eric offers.

“Thank you, Eric,” Wil says dryly. “I can train my own employee.”

“Except you don’t even want her to come in to get trained. How will you train her when the store’s open and she’s helping customers?”

“Ooh, snap,” John says. One more reason to not like the guy. Nobody says “ooh, snap” anymore, at least not anyone trustworthy.

“Fans, Eric,” Sam reminds him.

“Jesus,” Wil says again. “Let me run my own department.”

Eric doesn’t let up. “Maybe you should’ve gone to your new hire’s Team Training tonight instead of the bar.”

Wil flips him the bird. “I worked a twelve-hour shift today, the second one this week. I think I’ve earned a night off.”

“Oh, poor Wil, such a martyr,” Eric says.

“Twelve hours!” I cry. “Why?”

“We’re short-staffed in media.” Wil finally looks at me. “Which is why we hired you.” He clenches his jaw. I haven’t seen him smile since I got here, not once. Wil after a twelve-hour day is not as friendly as Wil at a HollowPoint show. Still sexy, though.

“Great!” I smile but he doesn’t. “All the more reason for me to come in at six tomorrow. I will see you then. Do we have a server or…” I look around and flag down a guy in a black T-shirt and a Ground Round apron.

Sam nods. “Excellent, Abbey. That’s exactly how you handle him. He doesn’t always have the best judgment when it comes to product processing.”

“Or friends,” Wil says with a pointed look at Sam.

I’m still smiling. I have only a vague idea of what Sam means by product processing, but I’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, I slide into the seat next to Wil and order a Rolling Rock. I do have to work at the ass-crack of dawn, so I’m going to hold myself to one beer.

“What’s Loss Prevention?” I ask.

John rolls his eyes. Rude. “Who hired this one? She hasn’t even started yet, and she’s already fraternizing with the team,” he says in an annoyed tone.

Wil says nothing, but Sam clears his throat.