Page 49 of I Saw You First

I need to nail that radio station interview.

I almost kissed my boss. I almost kissed Jefferson Airplane Wilshire IV. Jaws. Wil. The whole drive home, all I can think about is his stupid face and his stupid lips and how unbelievably stupid it was for me to try to kiss him. Thank god Eric was out getting carts… stupid stupid stupid.

I wake up at 4:30 the following morning, my day off, and can’t fall back asleep, so I make a pot of coffee and print copies of my resume. Later, I call the store to ask Cesar and Aurora if either of them can switch shifts with me tomorrow. But Cesar has to take his roommate to the airport, and Aurora has an appointment with a dermatologist.

“I would switch,” she says, “but I’ve been waiting six months for this appointment. I cannot have sandpaper skin at my wedding.”

“You don’t have sandpaper skin,” I assure her. “But you do know that smoking is bad for your skin, right? Among other things?”

“Yes, I’m aware. You’ll find out when I leave and you take over the department. You’ll be smoking a pack a day.”

“You’re leaving?” I blurt. “You can’t leave!”

“Someday,” she amends. “Settle down.”

But I can’t settle down, not when I need to come up with a plan to leave work tomorrow morning before we open, find coverage for the floor until Kevin gets in for his shift at 11… Kevin!

“Hey, do you think you could call Kevin in an hour early?”

“No can do,” she says. “I’m coming in an hour late because of this appointment and I need him to be there to cover the floor.”

“If your appointment is later, could you work a split?” Now I’m grasping at straws.

I hear the flick of her lighter and then a deep inhale. “I’ve got hot yoga in the morning with Amir’s sister. I might die. I don’t even like cold yoga. What’s going on with you, anyway? Why do you need someone to work this shift so badly?”

“Nothing’s going on,” I say, deflated and defeated. “Nothing at all.”

“Thanks for yesterday, handling everything with the media eval. And for covering for me when I didn’t answer Wil’s calls. When he asked me this morning if I’d found a dress, I was a little confused, but I caught on quickly enough. You should get a cell phone so you could, like, text me that stuff.”

“No way. Too expensive. I was hoping to catch you before he said anything. Glad you figured it out before it got too weird.”

“Oh, it got weird. He’s in a bizarre mood today.”

“He is?”

“Yeah, almost… nice.”

I smile, thinking of last night.

I wanted to kiss him. So badly. Even though it was so, so stupid of me.

But I can’t think about that right now, or how I loved spending time with him, how well we got along, like real friends. How it seemed like we could be more than that. Which is why I so stupidly tried to kiss him.

I need to find a new job, and that starts with this interview.

“Do you know who the opening manager is tomorrow morning?”

“Wil, and Bergren’s MOD, I think. Seriously, what is up with tomorrow, Abbey?” I hear the whoosh of the automatic door as she steps back into the store.

“Nothing,” I say again.

“I don’t believe you.” There’s a pause when the intercom buzzes. “I take back what I said about Wil being nice today,” she says. “He just paged me back to the warehouse and he sounds pissed. I gotta go.”

She hangs up. I slump down into the couch and sigh.

The next morning, I get up early to curl my hair and do a full face of makeup. I hang my interviewing outfit—a black pantsuit with a crisp baby blue blouse and black patent leather flats with silver buckles—in a garment bag in the back seat of my car. The list of things I need to do to even get to the interview is daunting: Find someone to cover the department. Convince Bergren to clock me out at 9:30. Somehow survive the 62 Crosstown/35W traffic snarls to get to the radio station downtown and find a parking spot close to Montgomery Tower. Change clothes—where? A gas station restroom? The back seat of my car? Do I risk it and change at the store and hope no one notices?

I should have called in sick, except that then the department would really be screwed. At least this way, I’ll only be gone for an hour or so.