Chapter 1
Lacey
Two weeks after the wedding…
Another forty-five minutes until closing and I can finally exchange my high heels for a pair of sneakers. My toes will totally appreciate me after I make the switch.
Doesn’t mean I’ll be home free.
I can’t leave Barringtons and hit the Marta to head back to my apartment in Midtown until I’ve straightened everything out. Staff is in short supply these days, so it’s usually up to me and the store’s manager to close shop. But he took time off to watch his daughter in a school play.
I don’t mind because his absence gives me a chance to show the company’s owner that I’m ready for a promotion.
One I’ve been positioning myself for months to get the opportunity by staying overtime, taking extra courses in marketing online, and attending every corporate training exercise they offer.
The shop bell tinkles, and I glance up from my perch at the back counter. “Hey Adrian,” I say as one of my favorite customers walks toward me. “What can I do for you?”
He glances to the left and then back at me.
“Thought I’d pop in to see what’s new before my commute home.
And I got you something.” Adrian shrugs his leather messenger bag off his shoulder, then withdraws a silver business card case and gives it to me.
“I couldn’t resist getting you this after everything you’ve done for me. ”
“But why? I still haven’t got the promotion yet.”
“You will.”
“From your lips to the universe’s ears. But I’m still working to prove myself to the higher-ups.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got an up-and-coming corporate executive with the moola to get you more sales.”
“Then let’s get rolling on those sales.” I slip the case into my pocket, then quickly, I round the counter to stand beside him, and eagerly smooth my skirt.
Adrian’s been on a buying binge ever since he gunned for and got his promotion at Stratford Industries in the accounting department.
“And you’re in luck. We just got a shipment from Armani. ”
“Great.” He tunnels his fingers through his thinning brown hair. “Got any new ties in?”
I notice a slight tremble in his hands and a hint of red rims around his light gray eyes, making me wonder why he’s here when he looks so exhausted.
But hey. A sale is a sale. And another brownie point toward getting my promotion.
“Yes,” I say with extra enthusiasm. “Do you still trust me to pull together another look for you?”
“That’s why I’m here.” He walks beside me to the dress shirts as two more customers step inside, then makes their way to the jackets and pants hanging in neat rows on the opposite side of the store. “After all, you’re the reason I got that position.”
“All I did was give you a mini makeover. You’re the one with the brains and fancy degree.”
“Yeah, but you taught me how to dress for success.”
Adrian used to live in my apartment complex before he got his hefty raise, and we met at one of the community pool parties. He’s not my type. But then, I don’t really have time for any type of man right now. I’m too busy chasing my dreams to date much. Still, he’s a good guy, and we became friends.
“All I did was polish you up a bit.”
“I’ll never forget how you sat me down and told me I needed to change my college look to a more sophisticated one after I got passed over for that promotion.”
Between my store discount and a good eye for detail, we pulled it off. “I had an ulterior motive,” I say, selecting a few shirts and lifting some ties from the adjacent table. “You can afford the prices here without my employee discount now, and I get a hefty commission check.”
He purses his lips, looks over my shoulder at the front entrance, as the shop door opens again, and another guy enters.
“Here. Try these on.” I give Adrian the shirts I selected along with the ties. “I need to follow up with these other customers. But I’ll check in to see how everything fits after I’ve got them squared away.”
Adrian nods, and tugs his shirt collar, then clears his throat. “This place is ultra busy for a Thursday afternoon.”
“Sure is.” I don’t mind though. More customers mean more potential sales before I close. “Take dressing room three.”
“Thanks.”
As Adrian goes to the changing area, I hurry to assist the other customers.
They’re all in a rush so I hustle to find them the perfect shirts, pants, jackets and ties while mentally counting my commission if they bite on any or all of the selections.
After I get them settled in their changing rooms, my cell phone chimes and it’s my manager texting me to ask about a bespoke suit for one of his customers and to bitch about the tailor missing the deadline for the next appointment.
Everything is happening so fast that I can barely catch my breath. I field the texts, sending one to our tardy tailor to give her a final warning about missing her appointments.
I’ve got two guys along with Adrian still in the changing rooms, another just handed me his rejects and said he didn’t have time to try more stuff on. Weird. He leaves and then I check the time. And I’ve only got fifteen minutes left before I can officially close the store down.
“Does anyone need me to get another size, color?” I ask outside the doors.
“Naw, I’m good,” someone says, then shouts out to the other guy. “Place is getting ready to close. You wanna go to Underground for a drink?”
“Sure.”
“Adrian? You good?” I ask.
Before he can reply, the other guys leave their changing rooms. “I’d like the whole batch,” the light-haired guy says with a smile that leaves a dimple in its wake.
I take the clothes from him as his dark-haired, handsome friend nods. “Same here.”
“Super,” I say, once more mentally calculating my commission as I lead them to the counter.
After I ring them up and let them out with a smile and a wave, I check the time again. Ten minutes after closing. Time to shut down, and time to get Adrian out the door too.
I hurry back to the changing area. “Hey Adrian.” I tap on his door. “Hate to rush you, but I’d really like to get out of here.”
No reply. Not a peep. “Adrian?” I tap the door a little louder. “You okay?”
Again. No reply.
Dread starts to tiptoe into my nerves. “Adrian. You’re scaring me.
This isn’t funny anymore.” I tug my master key from my lanyard with shaking fingers.
“Please say something. Or I’m coming in.
” What if he’s had a seizure or a heart attack or an aneurysm?
Anything is possible at this point and it’s not like Adrian to be cagey like this.
But then, he usually doesn’t shop near closing or when he’s beyond exhausted. His red rimmed eyes and trembling hands flash in my mind. “I’m coming in.”
I slip the key into the lock and open the door. And Adrian’s prone body is on the bench with his head lolling toward the wall beside him. He’s starting to roll off and I rush to catch him only to see his lifeless eyes staring back at me.
My legs buckle under his weight, and I scream as I tumble to the floor with him.