Let them serve themselves.
The woman said, dramatically, “I was shocked and horrified by some of the words in this book.”
“Yes, I understand.” (She’d already stated the reason for the return, unprompted, several times.)
Like most Lunch Break Returners, she wore business casual dress and pumps that were a size too small, judging by the way she shifted back and forth on her feet. She probably wore the pumps into the office and kicked them off under her desk for most of the day. As I pondered all of this, I frowned inwardly that my keen insights into the habits of Beaverdale bookstore customers had very little value in the non-bookstore job market.
I asked, “Would you like the refund on your credit card, or store credit?”
She huffed, “Store credit, of course. It’s not YOUR fault these publishers allow words like this in books these days.”
I could tell she really wanted me to ask her about the specific words, but I wasn’t playing the game that day.
Slipping my hand into my purse, under the counter, I felt the raised lines of the word RIBBIT inside my card. It wasn’t a dream! I really was engaged to a famous actor, with a fabulous non-retail life ahead of me. Unless this was the dream, and Dalton was the dream within the dream.
“Will this store credit even be valid at the new location?” the woman asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.
“Nope. And we’re starting the move tomorrow, so you’ll have to use it before six o’clock today.”
Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. (You should never joke around in retail, especially not where the customer’s money is concerned.)
“Kidding!” I added quickly. “Of course the credit is good at our fabulous new location, and I hope you’ll come and shop often. We’re putting in a section of audiobooks.”
She said huffily, “Good. Your new location is more convenient for me, because my hairdresser is on that block. I don’t know why this store is all the way over here. There’s never any parking.”
I glanced out the window reflexively, then held my lips tightly together as I looked at the unobstructed view of a street with over half the parking spots wide open.
Honestly, one of the biggest obstacles I’ve had to overcome to be a decent retail employee is to resist the overwhelming urge to state the f**king obvious to people. For example, they’ll walk in as I’m sweating and dusty from organizing shelves and unloading boxes, and they’ll comment on how nice it must be to sit and read books all day.
Your job as a retail employee is not to tell the truth during small talk.
Your job is to be friendly and put the money in the register, while only speaking the truth about your fine products, which you stand behind one hundred percent. If you happen to sell crap you don’t believe in… good luck with that.
I gave the woman one of our new postcards with the new location’s address. She left with a smile on her face, which made me feel good. I hadn’t been completely ruined by fame! I still had the retail touch.
The rest of the day passed quickly.
Adrian came in at quarter to six and brought the sandwich board inside with him.
“Let’s close up shop,” he said.
“But it’s not six yet.” I trotted quickly to the area behind the counter, putting the furniture between us. I’d been meaning to talk to him about my engagement to another man, but hadn’t found the right time, or gotten drunk enough.
He replied, “Have it your way. I’ll hang out here and we can count down the final minutes, like they do on New Year’s Eve.”
“Don’t say that. You’re going to make me all nostalgic and weepy.”
He rested his elbows on the counter and leaned across to kiss me hello. I reached under the counter and quickly tucked my frog card away and zipped up my purse, then pretended to get distracted by the special orders shelf needing adjustment.
“Did you forget about our date tonight?” he asked.
“Of course not,” I lied.
He kept staring at me, his blue eyes darting from my eyes to my lips, as though he might be able to read my weekend activities on my face.
I crossed my arms and tried to put on a poker face.
“How’s Cujo?” I asked. “Still wearing the Cone of Shame?”
Adrian laughed, his smile relaxing his face and making me relax, too.
“Except for meal time,” he said. “We left the cone on for his first dinner at home, and he scooped all the soft dog food into the cone by accident. Then he could smell the food, but couldn’t reach it with his mouth, so he was like this, trying to get it with his tongue lolling out.” Adrian tilted his head and lolled his own tongue out while whimpering.
I had to laugh. “Poor little man. I need to see him soon so I can thank him for being my hero.”
“Hey! He’s your hero? What about me?”
“The guy who led me right into the bear’s territory in the first place?”
“And then dragged you right back out again. Like a hero.”
“Thank you for that. I guess I owe you. Dinner at DeNirro’s? Unless we made plans for something else?”
“I could go for some Italian. Can we close up the store yet?”
I looked down at my brand-new watch. “Seven more minutes.”
Adrian reached across the counter for my hand, then drew it near him as he studied the fancy watch. “This is new.”
I cleared my throat. “A gift, from this weekend.”
He let my hand go and turned his head to the side. “I don’t want to hear about him, or the expensive gifts he buys you.”
I leaned on the counter between us, reached up with one hand, and stroked the side of his face with my fingertips. “Adrian.”
It hurt me to hurt him.
“Seven minutes.” He pulled away from my hand, looking down as he withdrew his phone from his pocket. “I’ll step outside and call DeNirro’s to see if we need a reservation. What do you think? Monday night? Shouldn’t be too busy, unless they ran a coupon in the Beaver Daily.”
“I’ll start counting the float.”
“I’ll flip the sign.” He walked to the door, where he stopped and looked back at me. “You know, this is the end.”
“The end?” My heart leapt up, my pulse banging in my throat.
“Say goodbye and make it a good one.”
Adrian knew I was breaking up with him? I stood there in stunned silence. I had to tell him everything that was happening, yet I didn’t want our new relationship to be over. He wasn’t just some guy. He was Adrian, and we’d known each other for years. We had history. When I was with him, I felt like we had a future.