Page 34 of I Saw You First

I suck in a breath.

“Look, Wil’s my best friend. I’m probably not the best person to ask.”

Sam is such a good person.

“You can trust him, Abbey,” he says softly.

She makes a hmpf noise, and for a moment, there’s only the snap and click of the pricing gun. Then she says, “You could be an inventory manager and still be back here, right?”

Sam laughs. “Dex would never give it up. Plus, it’s better for my family if I work fewer hours and keep a more routine schedule. I figure I can stay here a couple more years and then find a place at corporate.”

That’s always been his plan, but I can’t imagine what it will be like to be in the store—Woodlake or any store, honestly—without him. It’s been me and Sam since the beginning.

“Why isn’t Dex on rotation?” Abbey asks.

“True inventory professionals are like trolls who live underground. We don’t like to come out of our warehouse and see the sunlight. People like Dex and me are better off back here with the other trolls.”

“I’m not a troll.” It’s Eric. I wonder how long he’s been sitting there, listening to their conversation.

“You’re the worst of the trolls,” Sam says.

I hear a crunch and then Eric says, around a mouthful of what I can easily assume is Skittles, “No, Wil is the worst of the trolls.”

I almost snort. Instead, I figure it’s time to stop eavesdropping and get those cables out to the empty endcap. I make a point to slam one of the swinging doors into the shelving behind it with a whump.

Abbey startles.

“Hey,” I say with as much nonchalance as possible, “did I see we were getting a drop of 2Pac today? The endcap’s empty.” Since his death a few weeks ago, they’ve been flying off the shelves.

“Speak of the troll,” Abbey mutters and I have to bite back my laugh.

“What did you say?” I ask, my voice low. I step close to her, and she smells… delicious. Something fruity and floral and bright, like sunshine in a bottle. I noticed it in the Dugout, too. New perfume, maybe. But I know better than to ask.

She pushes a stack of CDs toward my chest, and I stumble a little as I grab hold of them. “This should hold you over,” she says with a bright smile. “I’ll be out with the rest ASAP.”

“Abbey was asking me about rotation,” Sam says. “I think you’re looking at a future merch manager, Wil.”

“How about we start with ATC?” I ask and she picks up the pricing gun again. Snap, click. Snap, click.

Two things I know for sure: I need Abbey to work her media magic with the next eval—any day now—and I absolutely can’t do anything that will jeopardize that. My father’s voice echoes in my head: Get your act together, Wil, or you’ll find yourself back at the inventory desk. Permanently.

I walk back out to the floor with the stack of 2Pac All Eyez on Me to fill the empty endcap.

ELEVEN

“PURPLE RAIN” BY PRINCE, 1984

ABBEY

Tonight, I’m going out. Donnie from Loss Prevention scored free tickets from a guy at corporate to see up-and-coming hip hop artist Ruh-Roh (not his real name) at an 18-plus show at The Golden. The Golden! I haven’t been there since HollowPoint. I sigh, remembering those few moments there with Wil... which I will not think about.

I can’t wait for a live show and a crowd of happy, carefree music lovers. Donnie’s swinging by for me after he picks up Devon, the computers team captain, who’s barely out of his teens and out of his mind excited for his first show at The Golden.

I’m tying the sides of a white blouse in a knot at my waist when the buzzer sounds. I tug on one leg of my jeans and hop out to the hallway to buzz Donnie in. “Come on up,” I say into the receiver, then pull on the other leg and button the fly. I flip the deadbolt, crack the door, and go back to the bedroom.

There’s a knock, silence for a couple of seconds, and then, “Rhodes? Hello?”

That raspy voice sends a swizzle from head to toe. Not Donnie. Wil.