Wild Dirty Secret(81)
Major snorted. “Someone will probably twist their ankles on the sidewalk.”
“You remind me of someone. Eeyore, that’s who.”
He held the door open for me. “He speaks the truth.”
“He’s a downer,” I said, brushing past.
He joined me by the shoe wall. “If we were doing character profiles, you’d be Winnie-the-Pooh.”
“You say that like it’s an insult. You do realize he’s the star of the show?”
The shoe salesman waved to us. “Be just a minute.”
“We’ll be waiting,” I said.
The salesman blushed because, yeah, my voice had been low and suggestive. Professional hazard.
Major spoke out the side of his mouth. “Winnie-the-Pooh is annoying. The other animals just let him get away with stuff because he’s cute. And kinda dumb.”
“Oh, very subtle. How do you even know about him? You have kids or something?”
He snorted. “No kids. Everyone knows Winnie-the-Pooh. He’s been around since the Great Depression.”
“You would know,” I muttered, right before the salesman ran over to us. He literally ran. It seemed a little overenthusiastic, even for a running store.
“Welcome to Ralph’s Running Mart,” he said breezily. “What kind of racing gear are you in the market for today?”
Major glowered.
I cleared my throat. “I think just ordinary tennis shoes for me.”
“Oh, we don’t sell tennis shoes, ma’am. Our shoes are specifically designed with runners in mind.”
“Get her some shoes,” Major growled.
The poor guy seemed to be shrinking in on himself, though perhaps that was because Major seemed to be expanding, filling the space around us as if his annoyance were a balloon and the salesman kept blowing and blowing.
I smiled brightly. “Don’t mind him. I’m looking for something simple. In fact, what’s your simplest shoe?”
“Well,” the salesman said. “Before we can get to the shoe-selection process, we need to get your stats.”
“I’m a size seven,” I said.
“Actually, this will be far more accurate.”
The salesman led us a few feet away to a machine in the corner. The large metal base had feet stickers where my feet should go, handles along the sides to hold on to, and a large monitor that took a variety of inputs about lifestyle, dietary choices, and workout habit. It looked like some sort of arcade dance game that had gotten drunk on wheatgrass. He patted the side.
“Take off your socks and shoes and hop on. Don’t be shy.”
“Yeah, I’m not doing that.”
The salesman blinked as if no one had ever refused it before, which I found hard to believe.
Major smiled. “Ready for me to handle it?”
“Yes, please.”
Within fifteen minutes, we were headed back to the hotel. I had already changed into my new clothes: size-seven cross-training sneakers, black yoga pants and matching top, and a black hoodie. I still had my money in the bottom of my shoe. Major had insisted on paying for the clothes, which I fought until he told me the money was Luke’s. So I let him do it but didn’t think too hard about what that meant. Luke wasn’t the type to think I owed him anything for the money. It was me who would feel beholden.
“You realize we’re matching,” I told Major.
He looked pained. “We’re not matching. I happen to be wearing black, as are you.”
“Yeah, but we’re walking together. Everyone thinks we’re a couple.”
“Well, we’re not,” he snapped. “You’re with Luke. You should act like it.”
That shut me up. We walked the rest of the way in silence.
In the elevator, he sighed. “I guess I went beyond Eeyore and straight to asshole.”
Pretty much. His words had bothered me more than I wanted to admit. The problem wasn’t whether I was with Luke or not. I had no idea what it meant to be a couple. I didn’t know how to act any differently if we were. The surface problems like Henri’s and Luke’s jobs were conveniently keeping us apart, but the truth was, even without them, we wouldn’t work. I wasn’t built for a relationship. I only knew how to be the other woman.
The elevator hovered to a stop. I shrugged, staring straight ahead and willing the doors to open.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just don’t want to see Luke hurt.”
“So then keep him away from me.”
His eyebrows rose a little. “Is that really what you want?”
“That’s what you want. You and Rico and probably Jeff too. I’m not really a stuffed bear with cotton for brains. I know you guys don’t want me with him.”