Chapter 6
The second Saturday in June and the line for The Latest Scoop was out the door. That was a good thing, generally, but today it was a hassle because Emily—the college student Zoe usually hired to help in the summer—had an internship in Washington DC, so Zoe was flying solo.
She’d considered hiring someone else, but the pickings were slim in Starr’s Fall—Ben was already working in his mother’s boardgame café and Bella at The Rolling Pin.
If there were other teens locally, Zoe didn’t know them, and she wasn’t keen on hiring a total stranger.
Plus, she’d wanted to save money, but now as she scooped ice cream as if her life depended on it—and her livelihood did—she wished she’d been a bit savvier about the whole thing and considered at least putting a “Help Wanted” sign in the window.
“Will that be all?” she asked the harried-looking dad who had ordered six separate cones for himself, his children, and his wife, two scoops each with different flavors and cone types for each.
It had been a lot to manage on her own, and she could tell the people behind him were getting irritable and impatient.
“If we could just have some napkins…”
“They’re right there on the counter behind you,” Zoe informed him with a swift smile as she brushed a strand of hair that was sticking to her cheek. “Next?”
She continued at the same frantic pace for half an hour, feeling exhausted and stressed out but managing to deliver service with a smile—mostly.
The grumpy guy who changed his order three times caused her to say “you’re welcome” with gritted teeth but he’d been so absorbed in his phone, Zoe didn’t think he’d noticed.
It was finally starting to slow enough for her to tidy up the serving area, sticky with spilled ice cream, when a familiar figure slipped through the door.
Sophie.
Zoe hadn’t seen Sophie or her dad for the last three days, since the whole shoplifting episode and its aftermath.
She’d been busy at work and at home with her parents, but she had spared more than one curious glance for the house next door, and she might have taken longer than necessary getting the mail in the barely acknowledged hope that Dan might come out and say hello.
She’d pictured his slow smile, the way he raked a hand through his rumpled hair, and then tried her best to banish the image.
The last thing she needed was a schoolgirl crush on a middle-aged dad. Even if he was pretty hot.
She’d felt bad for refusing his offer of a drink—she still couldn’t figure out if it had been a genuine invitation or just his way of being friendly—but she’d really needed to get back to her parents and truth be told, when she wasn’t being breezy and a bit dismissive, as she tended to be with most people, she had no idea how to relate to anyone at all.
Snappy comebacks had become her safety net, and she’d already sensed she wouldn’t be able to manage those with Dan Bryson, which was kind of scary in itself.
What was it about the guy that got under her skin?
Because something about him did. She’d been thinking about him way too much, considering he was basically a stranger.
Okay, a seriously good-looking stranger, but still.
“Hey,” she greeted Sophie with a measured friendliness. She considered making a joke about magnets but decided that was probably not a good idea. “How are you?”
Sophie shrugged, her gaze sliding away from Zoe’s.
“Okay.” She was wearing a similar outfit as she had before—baggy jeans and an oversized t-shirt, like she was trying to hide herself.
Her long blonde hair was back in a braid, a few wisps framing her heart-shaped face.
She looked young and pretty and very vulnerable.
“Do you want some ice cream?” Zoe asked when Sophie simply stood there, looking uncertain.
“Actually…” Sophie reached over her shoulder to clutch the end of her braid like a safety blanket. “I was wondering if you’d give me a job.”
“A job?” Zoe couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice, and Sophie flushed.
“Yeah, I mean I don’t have to do anything important. I could just sweep up and stuff. And you can pay me minimum wage.”
Minimum wage in the state of Connecticut was currently sixteen dollars an hour. Zoe doubted whatever help Sophie offered would be worth that much to her. “Why do you want a job?” she asked, genuinely curious.
Sophie shrugged again, dropping her braid back over her shoulder. “I’m bored and I want something to do,” she admitted, hunching her shoulders. “And I mean, everyone wants money, right?”
“Right.” Zoe stared at her, unsure what to do.
She had a feeling that refusing Sophie might crush her, but she wasn’t sure about hiring someone who had stolen from her and had yet to show any real remorse, even if it had just been a magnet.
Plus, managing Sophie as an employee threatened to be way more headache than she could handle.
“Maybe on a trial basis,” she heard herself say, and mentally she gave herself a shake. Really? She was doing this?
Sophie looked incredulous, like she’d been bracing herself for the kindly refusal Zoe had meant to make. “You mean it?” she asked.
“Trial,” Zoe emphasized, holding up a warning finger. “Definitely a probationary period. And I can’t pay you minimum wage at your age—if you’ll settle for ten dollars an hour, we might have a deal.”
“Deal,” Sophie said quickly, looking like she’d been expecting even less.
“And if you steal anything from me again,” Zoe felt compelled to warn her new employee, “I will fire you that very second.”
Sophie hung her head. “I won’t,” she told her in a low voice. “I promise.”
Zoe sighed. She had a strong feeling she should not give this kid a chance, because she was going to be way more trouble than her help was worth, and yet…
she was doing it, anyway. Because she’d once been like Sophie, and her art teacher, Mrs. Hoffman, God bless her, had given her a chance, back when she’d been about fourteen.
If she could be a Mrs. Hoffman to somebody else, well…
it was a prospect she knew she couldn’t refuse.
“So when do I start?” Sophie asked, a glint of enthusiasm kindling her eyes in a way Zoe had never seen before.
“How about right now?” she replied. “The floor needs mopping and then these containers need refilling.” She nodded toward the pails of ice cream. “I can show you where everything is, if you think you can handle it.”
For a second, Sophie looked like she didn’t think she could. Had this girl ever done the kind of grunt work Zoe was asking of her? Somehow she doubted it.
“Okay,” Sophie finally said, with a determined nod and a tilt of her chin. “Sure. I’ll start now.”
Zoe smiled, a flicker of admiration going through her. Maybe Sophie would surprise her by being independent and productive. Maybe all she needed to do was give the girl a chance.
Sophie didn’t surprise her. As soon as Zoe set her up with a mop and a bucket, Sophie started swirling way too much water across the floor, creating a slip hazard that forced Zoe to close the store for fifteen minutes while she mopped up the excess water and Sophie looked on, caught between misery and belligerence.
“I didn’t realize the water would slop all over the place,” she muttered, and Zoe managed a tired smile.
“Well, it is water,” she remarked in what she hoped was a playfully pragmatic tone. “It tends to be, you know, a little sloppy.”
For a second, Sophie’s eyes sparked in a way Zoe was already used to, and she waited for the snippy, sarcastic retort. But instead Sophie did surprise her and smiled.
“Yeah,” she said. “Water is… kind of wet.”
Zoe smiled back, heartened even though closing the store when she had customers coming in was not exactly good business practice. “Okay, so start again? Less water, more mop. I’m going to unlock the door.”
“Okay.”
Amazingly, Sophie followed her instructions and managed to mop the floor without creating any more dangerous puddles.
Zoe served the waiting customers and breathed a silent sigh of relief when they left, and it was quiet again.
Sophie finished mopping the floor, glancing uncertainly at Zoe as she balanced the mop in the bucket.
“What now?”
“Now you empty the dirty water into the waste sink in the kitchen,” she told her. “Not the one I use for dishes or food prep,” she added sternly. “Okay?”
“Okay.” Sophie lugged the bucket to the kitchen and Zoe watched over her as she emptied the bucket of dirty water and then wrung out the mop. Okay, she wasn’t a total failure, Zoe decided. Maybe even a success of sorts, at least in time.
“Good job,” Zoe told her, and Sophie blurted, “I’m sorry I stole that stupid magnet. I don’t even know why I did it.”
Finally. Zoe kept her expression relaxed as she held up one hand. “First of all, my magnets are not stupid. I design them myself, and I really like them.” They were one of the small ways she still managed to keep art in her life. “Second, I get it. I used to do that, too, when I was your age.”
Sophie’s gaze widened as she looked at Zoe in surprised skepticism. “You stole stuff?”
“Yep. Lipstick, and I didn’t even wear makeup. Still don’t. It was stupid, and I didn’t even want it, but I just did it, anyway.”
“Why?”
Zoe hesitated, wondering how psychoanalytical she wanted to get with a fourteen-year-old.
“I’m not sure why,” she finally admitted honestly.
“But I know my life felt pretty out of control back then and stealing sort of helped me feel like I was in control, even if I wasn’t.
It wasn’t a great fix anyway, because like you, I got caught. ”
Sophie’s eyes rounded as she followed Zoe back out to the front of the store. There were no customers, and so Zoe took the opportunity to wipe down the counters and ice cream scoops.