Jett was a fucking unicorn.
With a name straight out of a romance novel and abs to match, he was the assistant manager who read romance novels obsessively. He legitimately could have been on the cover of any book about romance, muscles, gorgeous smiles, and-or perfect hair.
Like I said. Unicorn. There’s only one other guy who I’ve seen girls — and sometimes guys — trip over like they do, and that’s Tyler.
Bayleigh walked in last, her blond, straight hair piled on her head as a yawn stretched her lips into an ‘o.’ Once she had coffee in hand, she scanned the table for a seat, but I flagged her and offered mine.
Next to Greg.
Which I totally set up.
She took my seat as I walked to the front of the room to stand next to Rose, watching as Bayleigh got situated. She glanced over at Greg and smiled shyly, and I patted myself on the back when he gave her a handsome smile back, leaning in to whisper something. She laughed.
I smiled, unabashedly smug.
“Morning, everyone,” Rose started. “We’ll try to keep this brief because mornings are dumb. I just wanted to thank you all for your hard work this last month. Most businesses lose a large portion of their staff in the first few weeks, but you’re all still here with smiling faces, ready to work, so thank you for that too. I couldn’t have asked for a better team. Thanks for not sucking. And that’s all I have to say this early. Cam?”
I smiled as she sat down and took a hit of her coffee. “So, our numbers are looking great, much better than we projected. As far as openings go, you guys have been killing it, which makes me look great. Keep it up.”
They chuckled.
“Singles night is tonight, and I hope we’ll see you singles there. Free drinks for you guys. Don’t forget that it’s a costume party, so if you don’t dress up, prepare to be shamed. Publicly. By me. And I’m relentless,” I said with a smile. “We’re placing our first new order tomorrow, so be sure to get any suggestions for authors or books into the suggestion box before noon. Please also be prepared for next week’s schedule to have some additional hours assigned to you for labeling and stocking. I’ll be catering the extra shifts with burritos and pizza.”
“And booze?” Beau called.
“Booze after,” I said with a laugh. “Anyone who isn’t trained as a bartender and would like to be just needs to let me, Rose, or Greg know so we can get you trained. We’d really like everyone to be capable of working in as many areas as possible. Everyone pulls their weight and steps in where we need help, because at the end of the day, we’re more of a family than anything, or at least that’s how Rose and I see it. Hope you do too.”
“Aww, thanks, Mom,” Harrison said.
I chuffed. “Rose is Mom. I’m the cool aunt.” I stepped over to the stacks of clipboards on the table. “We’ve split you all up into teams to do inventory, one to count and one to tally. Come on up when I call your names.” I grabbed the first one. “Beau and Harrison, I have you in suspense and erotica.”
They wore almost identical smirks.
“My favorite,” Beau said as he grabbed the clipboard and they headed out.
“I figured. Eva and Polly, you two are taking rom-com and half of contemporary romance.” They took their clipboard and stepped back. “Bayleigh and Greg, you’re on paranormal and historical.” They took theirs, and I tried not to look too obvious about gloating. “Ruby and Elizabeth, you’re on general fiction and sci-fi, and Jett, you’ve got the second half of contemp.”
Warren made a face. “What about me?”
I handed him a clipboard. “You’re on your own in comics with me and Rose.”
“How come I don’t get a partner?”
“Because you don’t work well with others.” I glanced around the room. “Any questions?” They shook their heads. “Then let’s get to it. Taco truck will be here in three hours, and if you’re finished with your list in time, I’ll buy your lunch.”
They cheered, and Rose smiled at me. I was the good cop and she was the bad cop, which meant I got to hand out tacos while she handed out tongue lashings.
We headed out of the room, everyone grabbing a last donut on their way.
“Wash your hands before you touch my books,” Rose said as she swept her finger across the lot of us.
“Does licking them count?” Beau asked.
“Only if you want to lose them,” Rose answered over her shoulder.
HOW TO HOPE
Tyler
THE DAY WAS CRISP, THE cool weather blowing in with a gust, carrying the familiar scent of change. For the entirety of my life, it also brought football, and the trigger of the change of seasons was one that used to fill me with nothing but lust for life. Now I was only filled with memories of that time, the longing for that feeling. Six years hadn’t been long enough to forget them completely.
I supposed I never would, which was a blessing and a curse.
I breathed deep as I headed toward the subway station, feeling the cold air in my lungs, remembering that I was alive. That made the loss easier to accept.
The day I was injured found its way into my mind as it so often did, in flashes of memories, smells, sounds. The crowd roaring. The glint of sun off the defensive line’s helmets as we squared up. The crash of pads, screams and grunts of players, like we were at war. I remembered the tackle, remembered falling, but then there was nothing, only blackness, until I woke up at the hospital.