20. Sluts Make Sales
20
Sluts Make Sales
Chapter 20: Sluts Make Sales
As soon as I got home, I lifted my dress over my head and dropped it to the floor. My cat sniffed it and blinked at me.
I shimmied out of my tights. “What? Do I smell slutty?”
Jinx kneaded the crumpled garment.
“Is that a yes?” I asked.
He laid on the material and tucked his paws underneath him. Okay, he was probably more interested in warm clothes than my sex life. At least he wasn’t judging. But sex and sweat clung to me in a way Victor had earlier. Time to rinse off.
I would’ve loved to let warm water beat the memory of his touch into my bones, but my phone rang five minutes into my shower. I fumbled for my cell, half-hoping it’d be my spider man. But no. It was Tori.
Shivering, I stepped out of the steam and wrapped myself in a towel. Talking to my sister required clothing. “Isn’t this past your bedtime?” I asked.
“I know, but,” she yawned sweetly, “I wanted to see how your date went.”
“Good. Really good. We had dinner, watched a scary movie…” 'Dry-humped and jerked off—you know, first date things,' I stopped myself from saying.
“Oh, did he give you a goodnight kiss?”
I hugged my drooping towel at the memory of him pinning me to my car during our goodbye. His tongue had swept my lips. His cold fingers clasped my neck. I’d almost pulled him into the back seat for another round of dry humping. “We…yes. We had a very nice kiss,” I said, trying to keep it PG.
“I’m so happy for you.” She sighed wistfully. “So, do you think you’ll see him again?”
“Yeah. He already told me to text him when I’m free.” I waved away the steam clouds.
“He didn’t want to plan anything?”
“I don’t know,” I snapped. Way to call me on my insecurities. “Our schedules are too weird to throw out a simple offer like, ‘how’s Friday at 7:30?’ We work weekends, openings, closings, and—”
“Okay, okay. I only hope he treats you nicely,” she said.
“He did. Thanks. Goodnight, Tori. Go get some sleep.” I hung up and wiped my palm on the misty mirror. My reflection shone amid the broken streaks. In my towel, with my hair disheveled, makeup smudged, and skin flushed from hot water, I was actually pretty damn sexy.
Too bad Victor didn’t get to see this version of me. I glanced at the phone. It was too early for sexy photos. As much as I might’ve enjoyed a genuine fuck, it would’ve been bizarre to invite Victor to come home with me. He didn’t ask, for one thing. Secondly, we’d already done sexy things. What would be the point of a nightcap? Watch another movie? Get to know each other better? Keep humping?
Ugh, I needed sleep.
I rubbed myself dry with a towel and went to bed. It wasn’t long before exhaustion and Jinx’s purring lulled me into sleep.
My phone buzzed, jolting me out of the comforting darkness. Early morning rays beat against my dark curtains, so I squinted to find my cell charging on the nightstand.
Bree: hey babe, I’m sick. might not make it in today :’(
Was that a fucking joke? She was our opener. There was no time to find a cover. Hell, I might not make it even if I left in the next five minutes. But if I didn’t try, the store wouldn’t open until AJ got in.
I groaned and rolled out of bed. This was what I got for scheduling her on a morning shift.
I rifled through my drawers for torn black skinny jeans and a band tee I’d cut into an off-the-shoulder neckline. But it was dark, and so were the clothes, so I drew the curtain back to let in some light. Jinx rumbled disapprovingly and peeked at me with one eye open.
“I know. It’s bullshit,” I told him. At least I’d showered last night.
By the time I got to work, it was five minutes past when we were supposed to open. My heart rammed against my ribcage faster than my feet could carry me. I rushed into the store and flipped switches and buttons, half-tripping over inventory. The gates rattled on their ascent.
We were open for business. Almost.
Black spots danced behind my eyelids. Bending over, I coughed, trying not to heave on my empty stomach. There had to be some leftover candy from the party in the cashiers’ desk. I blindly reached under the register and smacked my hand on a broken hanger. Those were supposed to go in the trash. But at least I did find a hard candy and a crimson tube of lipstick. I sucked on the sugary treat and examined the familiar purplish-red pigment: Poisonberry. That had to be Bree’s. She wasn’t supposed to be leaving her personal stuff around here.
I sighed, tossed it under the register, and trashed the candy wrapper along with the broken hanger.
Housekeeper, peacekeeper, and starving marathon sprinter. This was management.
I wasn’t sure why Bree was even salty about not getting the promotion. She hated people, ignored schedules, and avoided work in general. She had probably partied too hard last night. I checked her social media for confirmation.
Yep. Bathroom selfie central. She was grinning wide, her gaze hazy and arms slung around her friends.
Why couldn’t she at least have found a cover? Or not gotten drunk? Or, I don’t know, taken any amount of responsibility?
I shook my head. Maybe it wasn’t my business to look up what she’d been doing last night. I’d hate it if my boss pulled that kind of shit. Of course, I wouldn’t have let them view my page in the first place. But I also never blew off a shift without actually being sick.
I didn’t know what to think. Did she need grace or a kick in the ass? If I’d stayed out last night…
A phantom warmth caressed my skin, but I was a second too late to catch it. My fingertips lingered on the pleasant ache on my collar. Victor’s bite.
Last night, I’d indulged myself. Too much? Or not enough?
I cradled my phone to my chest to prevent myself from pulling up his contact information. He hadn’t texted me last night, and I had a lot of work ahead. Like re-hanging all of last-night’s discarded costumes.
I put on an album to drown out my worries, then got out the shepherd’s-crook hanger assistant for high hooks.
A few hours later, AJ strolled in. “Hey, Bree, how’s it—” He stopped in his tracks and raised his brows at the sight of me. “Hanging?”
“Swell, thanks,” I grit through my teeth, straining to hook a corset-dress up high.
He tugged on the back of his beanie. “Sorry, I thought Bree was supposed to—”
“She was, but she’s ‘sick,’ so…” I huffed and tapped the base of the rod on the floor, half-hoping it’d shoot sparks from the end. “I guess I’ll open and close. The official guardian of the gates. I might as well blow up a mattress in the back.”
He frowned at his phone and slumped against the desk. Less than a minute into the shift and he was already dissociating? I’d unloaded too much negative energy in his vicinity. It wasn’t his fault Bree bailed on me.
I forced a smile. “At least you’re here now. So, how’ve you been?”
“Huh? Oh, I'm fine.” He pushed his glasses up, then straightened his spine. “Did you see the trailer for the Mothman game?”
“No, but I am keen on bug-related-men,” I joked, though I was pretty sure spiders were their own category and only Victor and I would get the reference. “Did it look fun?”
He launched into a play-by-play as some customers walked in.
“Sounds great,” I said, fighting a yawn so AJ wouldn’t think he was boring me. I needed sleep.
“No, you need to see it.” He opened the video app right at the cash register. Was our whole staff high on recklessness this weekend?
“Not in front of the customers,” I whispered.
“Oh, right.” He lowered the screen and muted it. “You can read the captions at least.”
I rubbed my forehead and chuckled. This was going to be a long day.
For hours, I shuffled around the store with the single-minded survival instinct of a zombie. Make sales. Clean the floor. Don’t fantasize about spider-boys.
I sighed and bagged up a corseted pirate outfit for a waiting customer. “Have a nice day.” Go get some booty, I almost added.
Why was this my default setting after one date? I wasn’t some twenty-year-old pervert anymore. I hid in the stacks and snuck peeks at my phone, hoping for a notification. Victor said to text him . The ball was in my court, but I kinda hoped he’d sneak into my DMs with strong, sexy initiative. God, if he ever left a voicemail, I’d play it on repeat.
Maybe that's what I needed—a repeat. Get this lust out of my system. I could play my part as the strong, badass lady who seduced strangers in movie theaters.
My fingertips ghosted over our chat, summoning typing ellipses on my end. But what should I say? Last night…
“You came,” AJ cheered.
How did he know?!
I exited the chat and clutched my phone. Clunky soles strolled across the wood floors. I stiffened and peered around the display.
Bree, still in her clothes from last night with an oversized hoodie, flashed him a closed-lipped smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I couldn’t let you deal with Kat’s bitching because of me.”
“Bitching, really?” I crossed my arms and marched over to the desk.
Color drained from her face. Why so pale? Was she actually sick or was she more embarrassed I’d caught her being shady?
AJ winced. “I didn’t phrase it like that.”
“I didn’t think you did.” I raised my chin to Bree. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, a little.” She slicked back the flyaway hairs in her updo and averted her gaze.
AJ gestured widely. “I only asked how she was, and I said that you were covering, so you’d be opening and closing.”
Bree huffed through her nose.
“Okay,” I said, dragging out the second syllable. Either she didn’t care, or he wasn’t telling the whole story. “So, you rallied?”
Bree ran her finger along the bottom of her lip. “Yeah. I couldn’t let the team down. And this way, you get a break, for a few hours at least.” There was that fake smile again. Or maybe it was weak because she wasn’t feeling well.
I rubbed my neck. “Listen, if you’re really sick—”
She gasped and widened her eyes. “Oh my god, what is that?”
“What’s what?” I furrowed my brow and looked around.
“That…bruise.” She inched closer, her head tilted. “Is that a bite mark?”
I clamped my hand onto my collar. “No.” Fuck, my voice cracked.
“It is.” She glanced at AJ in shared shock. “You got freaky last night.”
“I…yeah, I hang out with vampire enthusiasts. We got carried away reenacting, and someone was hungry,” I rasped, rolling my eyes so they couldn’t tell if I was serious. “Whatever happened, it was off-hours, and none of your business. We’re talking about your unexcused absence.”
“I’m here now, no absence,” she said, raising her shoulders.
Wow. I took a deep breath in the hopes it would calm the raging urge to kick her out for being so callous.
Stress from our busiest season was probably getting to the whole team. I liked Bree. Usually.
“I’m taking my break, but we’ll discuss this when I get back.” I twisted away from them and marched to a secluded mirror by the jewelry display. Was the bite that bad? I stretched my shirt for a private examination. How could I go from no mark last night to purple-yellow dots today? I prodded the nearby skin with macabre fascination, my stomach twisting from the pleasant ache.
Would Victor like to see?
My heartbeat pulsed under my fingertips.
Despite the mark being kind of beautiful and on-brand, it wasn’t exactly professional to show up to work with love bites. Hot Contra must have shit like this in the employee manual.
My head pounded from dehydration and lack of sleep.
Now that Bree was here, at least I could leave. But it didn’t make sense to go home, lay down for a few hours, and rush back again.
I needed food. A drink. I needed a dark place to put my feet up.
I needed to go to the movies.