Ollie
I tuck my wavy red hair behind my ear, cursing under my breath once again.
No matter what I do to it, it always falls in my face.
The bangle bracelets on my wrist jingle as I gather up my hair, pulling it behind my head to hopefully stay put this time.
Tying it back is a last resort because that always gives me a headache.
I take the sign I’ve just finished designing with pink and black markers and bring it over to the display at the front of the store. Climbing onto the small stool I set up earlier, I stick the cardstock into the holder at the top for all to see.
The three-tiered table is kind of like a big wedding cake.
Only this one is filled with books on stands and in stacks.
They’re all artfully placed, colorful, and packed with all the spicy goodness inside—and of course designed with sinfully hot men on the outside.
I get off the stool and step back to see my work.
Hot Girls Read.
The sign is bright and bold. Everyone will see it as they walk in, and that’s the point. Hot girlies should read. Everyone should read, but these books specifically were chosen for this display.
“Good job, Ollie.” I pat myself on the back and go in search of Franny, the owner of this fine establishment.
She’s my idol. The person I want to be like when I grow up. Okay, not grow up, but in like five years. She’s twenty-seven and already owns her own business—Books knuckles and nails stained with soil.
I look up at him, smirking.
“Sorry, hot girls only.”
This is me. Flirty and funny with all the customers. I’m adorable. They love it. I always make people smile. And it helps sell books.
The man’s face doesn’t change. He looks as impassive as ever, glaring down at the books like he’s offended by the color pink. Then his gaze flicks to mine. Bright blue, like some kind of tropical ocean. They stand out against the dark, full eyebrows just above.
“I can be a hot girl.”
Laughter bursts out of me, loud and hard. I nearly drop the book in my hand, so I clutch it to my chest as I catch my breath. Dropping a book onto the floor is a sin we don’t commit around here.
When I look at the guy, he’s smiling, his eyes somehow brighter. The smile changes everything about him, softening all the rough edges. Not that I minded those rough edges, but he doesn’t feel so closed off now.
“Sir, you can be whatever you want,” I say. “What can I help you with today?”
He holds my gaze, still smiling at me for a moment before he responds.
“I need a, uh… gift. For my sister. It’s her birthday. Well, soon. It’ll be her birthday soon, and I’d like to get her something.”
“Does your sister like romance?”
He glances at the book display. “Yes, definitely.”
“Okay, then. Let’s see what we can find for your sister.”
I explain a few options to him, then let him do his thing as I go help other customers that are browsing. I flick my gaze to him now and then, watching as his brow furrows as he reads the back of the books and puts them back on the display like they’re made of glass.
I ring up two customers while I keep my eye on him, unable to pull away. Eventually, he comes over, and I swear his cheeks are slightly pink. That’s a normal reaction to these books. Especially from men.
“So, if for some reason I were to read this…” he says, as he carefully puts the book on the counter. “Do I officially become a hot girl?”
I laugh as I scan the book. “Like I said. You can be whatever you want.”
* * *
I think about the Hot-Girl-Wannabe for three full days. Even when I’m home or lying in bed. And I only stop because he steps into the store again. Same time of day. Same look.
“Well, if it isn’t Mister Hot Girl.”
He smiles as he focuses his gaze on the display again.
“How did your sister like the book?” I ask.