Chapter 6
Dear me/ journal/ god.
I have peaked. Tonight I will play the greatest prank of my whole entire life and even though I know I’ll be in so much trouble I can’t stop laughing.
Adrien, in all of his infinite wisdoms, always lets me pick out my own birthday gift because he’s too lazy to do it I think and this year I asked if I could get it a month early and he said yes and also promised he would keep it a secret.
Two words: walkie talkies.
I taped one under Loch Ness’s bed.
I’ll be back with updates.
According to the binder, there was only one grocery store in the entire city that Dominic deemed “acceptable” in terms of produce quality, and it was almost a forty-five-minute drive from his place.
I didn’t have an extra hour and a half to spare today.
I also didn’t have a car, given that I hadn’t been able to hold on to a job long enough to afford one.
But I did have a brain, a phone, and his credit card, so I downloaded the store’s delivery app instead.
Good thing, too, because Dominic had sauntered into the kitchen eight times since I’d finalized the order to request new items be added.
By the fourth change, I’d messaged Amber, my assigned shopper, explaining that my boss was an eccentric recluse who was losing his mind trying to organize an orgy in which he’d be tied up like a roast suckling pig on a large dining table while a dozen middle-aged men dressed up as Mrs. Doubtfire enjoyed a massive feast around him.
I pledged a $200 tip for every adjustment made to the order as an apology.
Dominic’s full name may or may not have been mentioned.
And I may or may not have encouraged Amber to share the tea with anyone she so much as made accidental eye contact with over the next decade.
“I changed my mind about lunch,” Dominic declared just as I finished sweeping the last bit of food off the island with my arm and into a large organics bin. “I want miso honey-glazed salmon with wilted bok choy on the side. You know how to make that, right?”
“Sure,” I assured him, not bothering to rinse my arm as I moved on to the next counter.
My jeans were rolled up, the drag of my loose tee was knotted in the back, and I’d opted to walk over the mess barefoot.
It hadn’t helped. I was still covered head to toe in stains.
“I do have one question. What is bok choy?”
My ignorance elated him. He suppressed a smirk, stepping over an eggshell with his freshly polished leather shoes as he made his way to the coffee machine for a refill.
“You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.”
It wasn’t until I was messaging Amber about adding salmon to my order that I remembered the shrimp I’d left in my bag. I waited for Dominic to pour his coffee and leave, but instead, he leaned against the sauce-smeared counter, slipped a hand into his pocket, and settled in for the show.
Fuck it.
The shrimp had already gone bad, and I really didn’t want it stinking up my purse. I’d pop it in the freezer, save the grinding and insole smearing for another day.
“What’s that?” Dominic asked curiously when I pulled the bag out.
“Lunch,” I said.
The mug froze against his lips, his brows arching. “And it’s been sitting in your purse all morning?”
“Yup.”
His eyes thinned. “If you think you’re going to get out of this by giving yourself food poisoning, don’t bother. Calling in sick counts as forfeiture. I don’t care how hospitalized you are.”
I looked at him like he was stupid. “Shrimp doesn’t go bad unless you leave it out for, like, a week. It’s like the apple of seafood.”
His face was priceless.
Awe. Disgust. Confusion. Suspicion. Mild concern.
I had to turn away before I lost my composure and burst into a laugh. Striding toward the fridge with all the confidence in the world, I threw open the freezer… and paused. There was no light. No chilled air wafting over my skin.
Frowning, I tried the fridge instead. The protective film covering all the shelves was the first thing I noticed; the sealed user manual taped to the inside of the door was the second.
It hadn’t been set up yet.
A tingle ran over the back of my neck. I could feel Dominic smiling into his mug as he watched the scene unfold. Keeping my movements measured, calm, and entirely unbothered, I reached for the manual and sliced the seal open with my nail.
On the first page, printed in large, bold letters, were the following instructions: Once the unit has been plugged in and setup has been completed (see page 2), please allow it to run for at least twenty-four hours, or until it reaches the recommended temperatures of 37°F (3°C) for the fridge and 0°F (-18°C) for the freezer, before putting anything inside.
Please keep all doors closed during this time.
Please note that storing food too early will block airflow and increase the workload on the compressor, which will significantly slow down the cooling process.
I sucked in a deep, quiet breath.
This was a minor setback. Nothing I couldn’t handle.
I’d simply message Amber, ask her to put back most of the perishables, pick up bok choy and salmon instead, then swear on my life this wasn’t a prank, so if she could please just bear with me and not report my account, that would be swell, because this was the only app that supported this specific store, and if I were to get banned, I’d lose a bet.
… Fuck.
I chewed on my lower lip, thinking.
Me
Hi! Me again! Can we please add 3 large coolers and 3 bags of ice to the cart?
Amber
I don’t think they sell coolers here girl…
Champagne/ wine ones mayyybe? This place is super boujee, which is not something I ever thought I’d be able to say about a grocery store.
Me
That probably wouldn’t work
The boss forgot to set up his new fridge. I’ll do it now, but we won’t be able to use it for 24 hours. All the perishables are going to go bad
Amber
Be for real
I snapped a picture and sent it to her.
Me
Kill me.
Amber
This man is not okay. I’m telling you.
Me
What do I do? Any ideas?
Amber
Want to borrow mine?
Me
Your what?
Amber
Coolers. I’ve got two back at my place.
Me
Seriously? Yes. That would be amazing, thank you!
I’d even buy them off you if you want? He gave me his credit card, so just name your price.
Amber
$600 for both?
Me
$2,000 each. And done.
Amber
OMG THANK YOU!!
THAT’S LITERALLY MORE THAN MY RENT!
Me
Thank YOU!
Amber
No pressure, but if you favorite me on the app I’m happy to shop for you whenever you need?? Or I can give you my number and pick up whatever else, not just groceries. I’m doing night school, so I have classes Monday to Thursday from 6 until 10:30. Otherwise just shoot me a text :)
Me
That would be so perfect.
I’ll be here for the next month and was honestly dreading having to explain this all over again to the next person.
Amber
Np, I got you!!
You won’t regret it!!
Something tugged in my chest when she sent me a selfie of her grinning and giving the camera a big thumbs-up, a chubby-cheeked one-year-old strapped to her chest. She couldn’t have been older than nineteen, maybe twenty.
Once I had her number saved, I slipped my phone into my back pocket, cracked my knuckles, and sized up my opponent.
It was a beast of an appliance, and my arms weren’t nearly long enough to grip both ends, but I could make a bit of progress on one side, then move to the other, and gradually shimmy the thing out of the arched alcove it’d been tucked into so I could plug it in.
Yes. That could work.
I gripped one side, dug my heels into the ground, and puuullled until my fingers ached… with absolutely nothing to show for it. The fridge didn’t move a single inch.
Dominic made an amused, chuffing sound into his mug, not realizing how much black food dye I’d poured in there earlier.
I ignored him, knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face if I looked at him now.
I shook out my arms and tried again. This time, I planted my hands a little farther apart, popped a foot on the wall for good measure, and gave it everything I had.
Sweat trickled down the back of my neck, my arms shook with exertion, and a small growl crawled out from the depths of my lungs.
The joint and grip pain started about ten seconds in, but I refused to let up until I felt it move.
And when it finally happened, I let go with a small, triumphant “fuck yeah.”
Panting like I’d just climbed twenty flights of stairs, I stepped back and assessed my progress. All that effort, and I’d managed… half an inch.
Yeah. No. This wasn’t going to work.
I took out my phone again.
Me
What are the chances they carry rope?
Amber
What kind?
Me
Whatever kind you’d use to cosplay as a roast suckling pig.