Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

Especially not Will.

The bell hanging above the glass door chimes as I walk into the stone building I now get to call work. A nervous wreck, I analyze the squeaky-clean, blue-and-white-painted store. Jenny told me it was renovated recently, hence the modern look.

My gaze shifts across the room. More precisely to my new boss standing behind the counter. She’s just finishing up with a customer. Jenny is a beautiful girl, taller than average—I’d say five foot nine—and rocks auburn, almost red mid-shoulder hair. She has a skinny frame and a rack that’s pretty hard not to notice. I wish I was half as blessed as she is in that department. I can barely fill out B cups.

“Hey, Kassidy. Right on time.” She smiles, gesturing to come closer. The customer heads out, dog food hoisted under his arm.

We make basic chitchat, exchanging how are you’s and complaints about the cloudy weather. Jenny then introduces herself. She’s twenty-two, studying to be an English teacher, and working as store manager to pay off her student loans. She’s been working here for three years.

She shows me around and tells me where everything is. I carry a notepad with me—because that’s the kind of employee I am—and write down as many details as I possibly can. It takes all I have not to stop and stare at the puppies as we pass them.

Lunchtime rolls around and Jenny tells me I’ll get to meet Isabella, Luke’s aunt and the store owner, sometime this afternoon. Apparently, Isabella’s visits are an event to celebrate as she owns a handful of stores all over town, basically making her too busy to breathe.

Another employee shows up for his shift a bit before my lunch break. Jenny introduces the tall, built African American guy as Ethan, who I come to find out is two years older than me. Once we’ve gotten the formalities out of the way, I retreat to the back of the store.

Luke is the first person I see when I pad back into the room thirty minutes later. Braced against the counter and flaunting the school’s varsity jacket, he scrolls through Instagram.

A woman who appears to be in her late forties stands behind the cash register, absently organizing papers. I take in her dark frizzy hair, gray cardigan, and tanned skin. She looks up when I come into view and rounds the counter, heading toward me.

“You must be Kassidy.” Isabella holds out her hand to me.

“That I am. Nice to meet you.” I smile, giving her hand a slight shake.

She doesn’t spare me a smile, nor does she say it back, but I doubt it has anything to do with me. Jenny said she can be a bit rough around the edges sometimes, but she’s a big softie on the inside.

After giving me a brief, professional “Welcome to the team” speech, Isabella says her goodbyes and embraces Luke, her nephew, thanking him for lunch. That’s why he’s here. He must’ve followed her back to the store. Ethan comes back from the bathroom a heartbeat later, missing her by a wink.

“So, how’s the first day going?” Luke asks me.

“Great. Thanks again for getting me an interview.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiles. “Jen, not too hard on her, I hope?”

Jenny laughs. “I don’t have to, she’s a natural. But I do need my employee back sometime today, Jenson.”

It’s clear they know each other well. Luke probably hung around the store often back when his aunt ran it—this was her first store. When asked if he’s got somewhere to be by Jenny, Luke starts fidgeting with his jersey.

He doesn’t want to leave.

“Yeah, hm… Kass, before I go, I wanted to ask you… Can I take you out sometime?”

Shit.

I can feel Jenny and Ethan staring directly into my soul. There isn’t a single person in the vicinity not awaiting my reply—I bet even the fucking fishes are on the edge of their seats. Everybody’s impatient to see if I’m going to be that girl. The one who says no to her boss’s nephew, not to mention the guy who got her the job.

“Sure.” I crumble to the peer pressure.

“Really?” His eyes widen. “I mean, cool.” He retracts his excitement, and guilt floods my stomach. He’s such a nice guy. I don’t want to lead him on. Truth is, I’m just not that interested. And at the risk of sounding like a walking cliché, it’s not him, it’s me. I need a break from boys. We can talk in a year.

“Next weekend?” he asks.

“Okay.” I force a smile.

“Great. I’ll text you.”

I nod.

“See you at school.” Luke makes his way to the door, angles his head back for one last smile, and exits the now completely silent store. Immediately, Ethan goes off.