Starfire(28)
I nearly cracked at the silly word, but I wasn’t about to be thrown off by him so easily.
I said, “I might be able to see you Wednesday, but you’re not the boss of me.”
“I have a notarized document that says otherwise.”
“WHAT?”
He opened the door to the rumbling storm. He transferred the book to the interior of his leather jacket. “Vern will pick you up at your house at seven.”
“Wait, Dalton. Enough of your mysterious crap! I’m really sorry about what I said, but this is my town, and this is my bookstore. Stop coming into my life and fucking shit up. I demand a copy of that stupid thing I signed!”
Bells jingled. The door closed behind him as he disappeared up the street in the rain. He probably hadn’t heard a word after “wait.”
After picking my jaw up off the floor, I phoned Shayla and told her everything.
“Plot twist,” was her reply.
“That’s all you’ve got? Never mind. Why am I talking to you? I’m pissed at you for not telling me I was the one who blabbed Dalton’s secrets. You could have warned me.”
“You made me promise to keep you from reading terrible things about you online. After that bombshell dropped, half your rabid fan base turned against you. It’s like World War Three on the Team Peaches forums.”
“Shit.” I hadn’t considered how Dalton’s bad press would spray back onto me. My heart sunk as I connected all the shitty dots to a shitty future where the underwear line with my name on it would lose so much money they would sue me rather than paying licensing royalties.
“Still there?” Shayla asked, her voice tiny. I’d dropped the phone away from my ear, as though a few inches would lessen the pain of the news.
“Just having a fuck-my-life moment.”
“Why don’t you see what Dalton has planned? Maybe you guys can salvage both of your reputations.”
“You’re good at this stuff, Shay. You’re more sensible than me.”
She sighed. “Fine. You beat it out of me. I’m fucking the dish washer.”
“What?”
“I’m fucking the dish washer.”
“I don’t understand. The dishwasher? You renamed your vibrator, or are you actually going after bigger appliances? Shayla, be honest. What exactly happened with our old refrigerator?”
“Not the dishwasher appliance. The person. From work.”
“Wait. The funny high school kid?”
She giggled. “He just graduated, silly.”
“Holy feathered duck fucks! Is that even legal?”
“He’s eighteen.”
“Are you guys dating, or what?”
“His parents are very strict. Please don’t tell anyone, or they’ll pull his college tuition. He’s already working at the restaurant as punishment for getting caught with some pot.”
“That seems ironic, considering the people you work with. No offense.”
She giggled. “I think it’s their way of teaching him a valuable life lesson. Showing him where people who party end up.”
“The horrors.” The door jingled as a customer came in with most of her body, shaking her umbrella outside the doorway. “Thanks for the chat,” I said, wrapping it up.
“Wait, are you seeing Adrian tonight?”
“You tell me. What have you heard?” Curiosity took hold of me.
“Nothing much,” Shayla said.
The woman approached the counter, her chin up in the manner of someone wanting to ask me a question. (It’s funny how women will make that face, with the chin and eyebrows up, mouth slightly open, whereas men will hold their heads level and give you the stare, commanding you with their eyes, slightly amused that you’d be stupidly talking on your pink cell phone when they need you.)
I said goodbye to Shayla and got to work helping the woman. My job had to take precedent over my love life during retail hours, or else every aspect of my life would be a disaster.
Outside of the Christmas season, people don’t require that much help with their shopping in a bookstore. I like to help, because it means talking about books, but sometimes I feel guilty about all the books I haven’t read, especially when customers act shocked and say I “simply must” read some book that changed their life. Now, I have an open mind, but if I open a book and see a perfect rectangle of text with no paragraph breaks, that’s not a book I’ll be reading, no matter how life-changing.
Maybe if I was in prison.
Then I would read those heavy books.
I don’t know about you, but I do daydream sometimes about being in prison and catching up on my reading. I’d also go to the gym a lot and get really ripped. Not that I want to go to prison…