Chapter 2 Bad Luck #2
It took a while, but when Trudy calmed enough to help with inventory, Maya came to the back. She made my blood pressure spike when she told us Shane had given the woman our exclusive seven-hundred-dollar Golden Bea display dress as compensation for poor service.
Not even noon and already the entitled suburbanites crawled out of the woodwork to spread their special brand of joy to the world.
I returned to the front, passing Shane without a word, eager to busy myself sorting the new jewelry shipment.
“Raelynn…”
“Don’t.”
“Excuse me?”
I turned and glared at him. “You let that woman walk out of here in a dress worth almost a thousand dollars. Why?”
He crossed his arms, the sleeves of his too large dress shirt sliding up his wrists.
He wasn’t skinny, but he wore ill-fitting slacks and shirts.
“I’ll remind you not to question my decisions.
You’re already on thin ice for talking that woman into buying a statue for a little girl in the first place. ”
“What? No. Absolutely not. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I jabbed a finger toward the entrance. “I warned her those statues aren’t toys. And she said Trudy—”
“I know what she said to Trudy. And I know what you said about how she handled her daughter. You know better than to confront a customer about their personal business, no matter what they’re doing.”
“Shane!”
“No. Unless they’re directly interacting with the product or employees, you are to mind your own business. It isn’t our place to tell our customers how to parent.”
“But I wasn’t—”
“Not. Our place.”
Maya’s low whistle made me turn. She stared at us in surprise.
“Where’s Trudy?” Shane asked.
A chill passed over my skin as the air behind him rippled like a mirage or heat haze. A shadow flickered behind him and vanished.
Not now.
“She’s breaking down empty boxes in the back,” Maya said, moving behind the counter to sit on a stool. She crossed one ankle over her knee, grabbing her shin as she leaned forward.
“Right. Well. Let’s put this behind us.” He glanced toward the entrance as customers entered. “I expect you to reflect on my words. I do not want to have this conversation again.” His sharp look made me want to hurl the broken statue at the back of his head as he retreated to the back.
“He sure isn’t earning any brownie points towards getting in your pants acting like that.” Maya hopped from the stool. “I need a drink after Karen-zilla.”
“It’s eleven.”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” she said, tossing her sleek black ponytail. “Oh yeah, this dude in line wanted me to give you a message.”
“What dude?”
“I dunno. He bought some dried licorice root and a big candle.” The hollow-eyed guy. “Seemed nice, but said it was important I tell you, ‘The princes won’t save you.’ Whatever that means.”
“Princes? The hell?”
“I didn’t get it either.” She picked up a box of tarot cards and stepped away from the cashier station as I lifted the divider. “Anyway, I’ll be over there if you need me. I’m not about to get on Shane’s bad side after that shit earlier.”
Had I known the day would continue its downward spiral, I’d have called in sick.
Right before lunch, a group of rowdy preteens entered, making a mess. When they knocked over a tower of assorted stones, scattering them everywhere, I had to ask them to leave. The cleanup cut into lunch, and when I returned, Shane provided a list of tasks he wanted completed.
Customers bombarded me with questions the entire time I worked. By the end of my shift, I wanted to join Maya for a drink, but then I remembered the apples waiting on my counter at home and my promise to make an apple crisp for Mrs. Stevenson’s family reunion.
Thankfully, no more hallucinations plagued my shift, but I still couldn’t make sense of the cryptic message the hollow-eyed guy left.
“Raelynn, can you come back here?”
I exhaled hard and finished closing the register while Maya locked up.
“Wonder what he wants,” Maya said with a smirk, leaning over the counter.
“I have no idea, but I’m ready to go home. I’m tempted to pretend I didn’t hear him.”
“You should.”
“Nah. I’m already on his bad side.” I picked up the money pouch and resigned myself to my fate. “Go ahead and head on out. I’ll take the bus.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I know you have that dinner with Ben and Gabi soon.”
She dropped her head back and groaned. “Her chicken and rice casserole is soooo good. You should come with me.”
“Dinner with twin toddlers and a boy under the age of six after dealing with those kids earlier? No, thank you.”
“Ma keeps offering them my babysitting services. Like what? I’m my cousin’s exclusive on-call nanny? I have a life too. That’s what daycare is for.”
“You know you’d never go against your mom.”
She blew a raspberry but didn’t deny it. Her mother knew how to get her way. When Maya’s cell rang, I gave her a pointed look as she answered.
“Hi, Ma! Yes, I’m leaving now.” She grabbed her flannel overshirt off the counter. “Maaaaa,” she whined, waving over her shoulder. “He smells like feet!”
I turned away as she disappeared through the side exit.
Boxes of inventory covered the floor, forcing me to navigate a waist-high maze to reach Shane’s office. I knocked on the door frame and stepped inside, placing the money pouch on his desk.
“Good work today,” he said, straightening in his chair.
“Come again?”
“What? I can’t compliment my employee?”
After the way he reamed me out earlier? I didn’t understand him—not that I wanted to. He always ran hot and cold like this.
“Listen. About earlier…”
“It won’t happen again.” I cleared my throat, not wanting another long conversation.
“Let me finish,” he said, voice softening. “I came on a little strong.” He stood, circled his desk, and leaned a hip against the side. “I want you to know I’m not upset with you.”
“Message received.”
He lifted a strand of my long black hair between his fingers. My brows furrowed. He’d never touched me like that before, and I didn’t like it one bit.
“Don’t be like that. I only speak with you that way because I know you’re capable of more than the others. You’re better than they are. I want you to reach your full potential.” He slid his fingers down the ombré ends of my hair. My stomach churned. “Understand?”
I fixed him with a hard stare and stepped back, causing my hair to slip from his fingers. “Yes, sir. I understand what you’re saying. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Chasteen.”
“Raelynn, call me Shane.”
“I think that won’t work for me anymore. I’d like to keep our interactions professional only. If that’s a problem, I’ll seek employment elsewhere. Have a good evening, sir.”
I turned before he could stop me and rushed from the office to clock out.
It wasn’t the first time he’d invaded my space, but never like this. I’d never given him any sign I was receptive to his interest in me, so the escalation unnerved me. If he continued after tonight, I’d have to contact Diane.
As if my day couldn’t get any worse, the girl at Sweet Confections dropped Mrs. Stevenson’s cake I’d promised to pick up, and I missed the bus waiting for a replacement. I didn’t get mad—accidents happened—but the timing made me groan. The universe seemed determined to test my patience.
I didn’t want to face the raging storm outside yet, so I sat on the bench near the exit and waited for the next bus.
Heavy rain pelted the roof, echoing through the emptying corridors. Sheets of water slid over the large glass windows overhead, making it impossible to see outside. I hoped it didn’t flood.
Thunder rumbled, and a loud crack split the air before the entire mall plunged into darkness.
I sighed, pulling my phone from my purse to check the time. The generators would kick on soon, so I saw no reason to panic like the other shoppers down the corridor, chattering after a few startled screams.
Tucking my phone into my purse, I sat back. Shane’s earlier words replayed in my mind.
Men like Shane served as a reminder of why I stopped dating. I’d never had much luck finding someone decent—or at least someone who I didn’t have to work with when the madness surfaced.
I wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship anyway, not when I couldn’t promise the kind of future men around here wanted.
Marriage, a farmhouse with a white picket fence, and kids weren’t something I could offer. Not something I would offer. I wouldn’t risk passing on whatever curse afflicted the women in my family to an innocent child.
I’d been an innocent child once, and the things I saw kept me awake many nights. I wouldn’t pass those terrors on.
I gripped the purse on my lap.
The generational curse would end with me.
I knew I’d follow the path of Grandma—the same path Mom would’ve taken if she’d lived. The only difference? I’d make sure the poison infecting my family’s minds died with me.
The lights blinked when the generator kicked on, the mall filling with dim light where some worked and others didn’t. Had the circuits shorted? Was that how it worked? I didn’t understand the stuff.
The lights go out? Get candles and flashlights. That was the extent of my emergency knowledge for short-term outages.
The lights flickered again, and a loud thunderclap made me jump as the mall sank into darkness once more.
“Jesus.” And here you were, looking down on everyone else for panicking. My gaze darted around, trying to make out anything in the darkness. Did the generator fail?
I reached for my phone, ready to use its flashlight and maybe call a ride share, but an orange glow reflecting off the glossy floor caught my eye.