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Her brown eyes held mine and she whispered in a voice that steeled my nerves, “Don’t ever let them see you cry.”
I nodded. She was right. I wiped away my tears. When the elevator doors opened, I walked in and didn’t look back.
On the bus ride home, I watched the office buildings flicker to neighborhoods like flipping the pages of a magazine. Finally, the pawnshop at the corner of my street came into view and I recognized my stop. I took my time walking home; I didn’t know what I’d tell my family. Not only didn’t I have the money for Marco’s first semester, but I also didn’t have a job anymore. My family depended on my salary to pay for groceries each week.
As much as that worried me, what pained me the most was having lost Colton. He hated me. And frankly, the way he treated me, I hated him right back. I knew what I’d done was far from professional, but I thought we had something more personal, something real. The way he ordered me to leave, like I was nothing to him, stung. Maybe if I’d told him before he’d found out from his brother, he may have heard me out.
Regardless, it’s over and our paths would never cross again.
As I walked through the front door, the scent of garlic and tomatoes drifted into the foyer. It was like serotonin to my brain. It calmed my nerves and comforted me as did my Nonna’s voice.
“Francesca, is that you?” she asked when I entered the kitchen.
“It’s me, Nonna.”
“You’re back early. Everything all right?”
I pushed my lips together again and nodded. “Yep. Everything will be just fine.” It had to be. “I have to make a phone call. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
An idea popped into my head. Racing up the stairs and into my bedroom, I found the phone number I had jotted down only a couple of weeks ago and dialed the number.
“Hello, Marcus?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Frances. I applied for the manager position at your store a couple of weeks ago. Is the job still available?”
“Oh, hi. Yes, I remember you. When you didn’t return my calls, I hired someone else. I didn’t think you were interested.” He was right. I never called him back when I returned from Miami.
“I understand,” I said, and swallowed. Now what?
I was just about to thank him for his time when he added, “I do have a sales position available. It’s yours if you want it.”
Oh, no. I couldn’t do sales, could I?
I would be front and center with new people all day long and have to put myself out there to get the commission. I didn’t think I could do that. But what other choice did I have?
“Yes, I’ll take it. Thank you.”
It wouldn’t be enough to pay for Marco’s school, but at least we’d eat.
13
Frances
The store manager, the one who got the job instead of me, shot me a pointed stare as I folded a sweater in the New Arrivals section. She gave me the same look when she caught me organizing the stock in the back room and when I color-coded the jewelry display.
“While I appreciate your work ethic, Frances, your job title is sales associate. You haven’t made one sale yet today, have you?” I recalled the elderly lady who wanted to buy a gift for her granddaughter. I suggested a charcoal pencil set after she mentioned how much her granddaughter enjoyed drawing. Unfortunately, our store didn’t sell those, so I couldn’t make that argument to my manager.
“Not yet. But I’m working on it,” I said and managed a weak smile for her.
“Well, you may need to try a new tactic other than organizing. Why don’t you go over there and ask that woman if she needs any help?”
I turned in the direction my manager pointed. A tall, blonde woman, around my age, held several pieces of clothing in her arm while she flipped through the dress rack with the other.
“Sure thing,” I said and approached the woman. “Hi, there. My name is Frances. Is there anything I can help you with today?”
The pink fingernail that raked through the dresses stopped, and she raised two perfectly shaped eyebrows at me. Her eyes assessed me from head to toe while popping the gum in her mouth.
