15
His grocery list wasn't very long, and he’d already grabbed nearly everything on it.
The nagging insecurity that had shadowed him before leaving the apartment had given way to the good mood Brandon had been riding for the past few days. Managing to make things right with Janet had gone a long way toward cheering him up, too.
If he could just square away his overdue rent, he’d count this month as an absolute win after everything that had happened over the last few weeks: the new job, Amanda, Isabella… He was broke as hell, but he couldn't really complain, could he?
Brandon was checking a dinner recipe on his phone when his shopping cart collided with another. The jarring clatter of metal echoed down the aisle. He swallowed a startled curse and looked up, only to lock eyes with a familiar face.
“Laura? I didn't… God! I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there.”
“Brandon,” she said, her voice carrying that same effortless authority she wore at the club. Then she allowed herself a relaxed smile, her tone softening. “I didn't know you lived around here.”
It was deliciously strange seeing her out of her managerial suit. She was wearing jeans that seemed to exert their own gravitational pull around her hips, drawing wandering eyes from everyone nearby. Keeping his own gaze from lingering was an uphill battle.
“Yeah, yeah. Just a few blocks from here, right on the border between neighborhoods.” He pulled his cart back, giving her room. “Again, I'm really sorry. I totally spaced out.”
“I'm not carrying a clipboard and barking orders in uniform, am I? Guess that makes it harder for you to pay attention.”
Is she… joking? Now there’s something I never saw coming.
“I doubt you have any trouble getting attention wherever you go. I mean, half the store can't take their eyes off you.”
And it was true. In the few seconds they'd been chatting, he’d already clocked at least two guys eyeing her with hungry curiosity.
She chuckled again. That contrast with her usual workplace severity made it a genuine pleasure to see her let her guard down. Then Laura leaned in, closing the distance between them.
“I won't deny that it gets on my nerves sometimes. But… yeah, I have to admit it happens now and then.”
“Now and then? Maybe you're the one who isn't paying enough attention, then.”
That coaxed another soft laugh out of Laura. Brandon was in high spirits, and that confidence loosened his tongue, letting the banter flow before his brain could second-guess it. Usually, that was a trap. On this particular Sunday, though, he seemed to be holding his own.
She angled her cart alongside his, and the two began strolling toward the nearest aisle. How does she feel like a completely different person? He wondered if it came down to the grind at the club. Coordinating staff and catering to demanding members couldn't be an easy gig.
She asked how he was liking the new job and touched on the other rookies who had started with him.
Apparently, two of them had already quit.
Brandon couldn't blame them. He asked if she lived nearby, and she gave him a brief breakdown of where she stayed. She was in the nicer part of town, opposite Brandon’s side. Figures.
Reaching the end of the aisle, she tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced toward the checkouts.
“I guess this is where we part ways.”
“Well, then I guess all that's left is to ask you to forget that I rammed your cart come Monday. I’d hate to get written up for it.”
That drew another laugh from her.
She started ringing up her items at the self-checkout. With every beep of the scanner, fresh pairs of eyes drifted over her each time she leaned down to retrieve something from the cart.
“You only need to worry about that if you aren't being a good boy. Are you, Brandon?” The words came out far more suggestive than anything he’d ever expected from her. Another side to her, landing with an almost physical jolt. Quite a revealing Sunday for everyone, huh? he thought.
He was left completely at a loss for words.
Laura was friends with Amanda. Could Amanda have told his supervisor about their contract? It would definitely explain her saying ‘good boy’ like that.
Good boy. Her voice echoed through his mind.
His face burned hot.
Brandon wouldn't get the chance to answer.
By the time he thought to open his mouth, she had already walked off, cart and bags in hand, tossing him a little wave as she stepped through the supermarket exit doors.
Before turning in for the night, Brandon picked up his camera and aimed it out the window.
Living on an upper floor had its perks when it came to the night view.
He could almost see the beginning of the highway he took to work every day.
Scanning the darkness through his camera lens, taking advantage of the zoom to explore, he spotted a motorcycle tearing down the highway at a terrifying speed. Crazy bastards everywhere.
It was strange standing there, watching the world, feeling the pulse of the nightlife while remaining completely detached from it.
He’d been a more social guy once. But over the years, without even realizing it, he had closed himself off and drifted away from people.
When he finally noticed, he might have worried it was too late, but the quiet had taken root inside him, and all he felt was comfort.
Moving to Narrow Creek had only intensified that sense of isolation. Still, beats staying where I was…
Through the camera's zoom, he spotted an unusual group walking down one of the streets: a guy, two women, and a black cat. They looked like they’d been drinking, happy and carefree.
One of the young women drew his eye immediately with her deep bronze skin and long, stark white hair.
They sat down on the curb and kept drinking, clearly riding a celebration that had started quite a while ago.
Brandon watched for a few moments longer before panning back across the city. He didn't take pictures of anyone, focusing solely on the skyline, the night sky, and the occasional piece of architecture.
He powered everything down and went to bed.
It didn't take long for his thoughts to slide back to Amanda and Isabella. His gaze drifted to the nightstand beside his bed. Even in the dim ambient light filtering through the window, he could make out the pair of panties he’d received from the two women.
If he drew a deep breath, he could almost catch the perfume they’d worn at the club that day: one citrus, the other intoxicatingly sweet.
Or maybe it was just his memory projecting onto his senses.
In the end, it didn't matter. Staring at the lace sent a pleasant warmth spreading through his chest.
When sleep finally took him, Brandon had a smile on his face.