Chapter 3
STEPHANIE
“Excuse me, honey.” I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Are you an angel, because you look divine.”
Bursting out laughing, I pivoted to see which of my friends from work was playing the fool today.
My laughter stopped abruptly when I turned to find it wasn’t a friend who had spoken at all, but what looked like a customer. An older, creepy looking customer who also didn’t look like he was kidding at all. I blurted out, “Oh, my god.”
“Not him,” the man said, his eyes running down the length of my body slowly. “But I can make you call his name later if you want.”
Then he winked at me. Like not the playful, cute wink some guys give. Or the devilish, sexy wink of others. Not even the sweet, “I made a funny” grandfatherly wink that would’ve suited this guy much better. But an exaggerated, completely unnecessary “I’m insinuating we’re going to go bang now” wink.
Was that even what people his age called it, banging? Or was it shagging? Smashing? Urg.
“I’m sorry, sir.” I smiled sweetly, just in case Tim, the bookstore manager, was still around. “I’m not religious.”
He squinted at me like he couldn’t believe I didn’t get what he was really asking me. I ignored him. I didn’t want to make him feel bad. The old guy had balls for approaching a much younger woman.
But getting hit on by Father Time wasn’t my thing. I didn’t feel bad enough to continue his flirtation. Even imagining what a night on the town with this guy would be like gave me the heebie-jeebies. It would be like a date with a crypt keeper. Eeeewww!
Actually, come to think of it, he kind of looked like a crypt keeper. Slicked back hair, crooked, hooked nose, tufts of gray hair peeking out of his ears.
He cleared his throat, his beady eyes caught on my boobs, even though they were covered fully by the uniform I was wearing at work. “How about I buy you dinner tonight, angel?”
“I’m afraid I already have plans.” I wondered if adding grandpa like he had angel would be too insulting and decided against it. Grandpas were usually lovely people, I heard. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Hurrying away, I left the older man standing near the display I was arranging in the window. Some or other new movie series based on novels was starting at the cinemas this weekend. Tim wanted the novels clearly visible from outside to draw in customers, but that would have to wait until Father Time over there got a move on.
Jenny was in the bakery section of the store, munching on a donut while pouring over a fashion magazine open on the counter in front of her. We’d become good friends, having started at the bookstore within a month of each other.
“I just got offered dinner by that vintage gentlemen over there.”
She looked up from the magazine, a smile threatening on her lips. “Vintage, huh? That’s one way of saying it. I saw him watching you for a while, probably working up the nerve to talk to you. He’s not that old.”
“Are you kidding? He could’ve gone to school with Cleopatra.”
The smile she was trying to fight broke free, along with a giggle. “Yeah, but he’s not old enough to have played follow the leader with Moses.”
“Or for the big bang to have been the sound of his cherry popping, but plenty old enough.” My eyes dropped to her magazine. “I bet those girls get hit on by the modern-day princes and kings, not the ones well past their best-before dates.”
Jenny’s gaze followed mine to the scantily clad models advertising jeans and nudity in the spread she had the magazine open to. “I’m pretty sure they get hit on by the full spectrum.”
“I could never look like them,” I lamented.
Jenny laughed. “That’s because you’ve eaten this year. They haven’t.”
“It’s not my fault food tastes as good as it does.”
“It’s also nutritious and necessary to keep us alive,” Jenny pointed out. “Besides, you don’t need to look like them to be beautiful. You’re gorgeous. You just got hit on.”
Smiling, I rolled my eyes. “By a guy who could’ve lived next door to Fred Flintstone. Is Tim still here? He asked me to keep an eye on things once he left?”
“He gone for the day,” she told me, dangling something imaginary. “You’re in charge now. Here are the keys to the castle.”
“Why thank you.” I pretended to take them and curtsied before heading to the manager’s office. The store was running damn slow today. We hadn’t made a single sale on my shift yet. It should pick up in a couple of hours, but I had some time before I would be needed out on the floor again.
Deciding to take the time to do something productive, I pulled out my phone and opened my browser. If I was going to get a job at one of Mr. Williams’ businesses, I had to start looking for one.