gives a barely perceptible nod and walks out of the side of the tent, a cigarette ready in one hand. I join Brook at the long table and watch as the families and young couples begin their perusal of the booths lining the interior of the fairground. I search the crowd for a sign of Sam and then immediately will him not to show up. I’ve made so many bad calls with love, it’s really better that things with Sam didn’t go further. I can get over an almost-love. It’s the head-over-heels kind that crushes me. The problem is, Sam was something in the middle.
The thick humidity of the day is quickly turning me into an unwitting participant in a wet t-shirt contest. Four hours into the fair and we’ve sold so much of the flavored body powders, Brook’s had to start taking orders to be filled at the shop next week. I look down to the far end of the table where Amber’s transfixed a group of high school boys by performing a very inappropriate taste test on herself. As a reward to the person who could sell the most marshmallow-flavored powder, our worst selling product, one of us will get to leave the festival an hour early tonight. Amber has seized on this opportunity with a vigor I’ve never seen before. When her pink tongue darts out to slowly lick away the sparkly-white powder from her wrist, I know I’m beaten.
“I’ll tell you what,” whispers Brook as she positions herself beside me at the makeshift cash register, “that girl is the best salesman I’ve ever seen. You just need to know how to motivate her.”
“And how do you motivate her at the shop?” I ask, watching as each of the pimply-faced boys digs into his pocket to hand over cash for the foul-tasting body powder.
“I let her use the storeroom for her occult book club every other Thursday night.”
“You do that?”
“Sure, and let me tell you what, those weirdoes love the pricey organic creams. I’ve made a fortune selling patchouli-scented bubble bath to them.”
Brook moves along the table to assist an elderly woman with some rose-scented bath talc, and I take a moment to step out of the stuffy tent and move into the throng of people. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I turn my head in the direction of Tim’s booth. He’s handing a small brown teddy bear to a young girl, his dazzling smile hypnotizing her parents. The father’s holding a clipboard in his hands and is nodding enthusiastically at something Tim’s just said. The poor man’s probably selling his soul and doesn’t even realize it.
My gaze is interrupted when a passerby nearly spins me sideways. I look around, ready to give the careless walker a piece of my mind, when my eyes land on Sam. He’s approaching the booth from the other direction and slows his pace when he sees me. I freeze, caught off-guard by his presence. He looks drool-worthy in his standard well-worn jeans and white t-shirt, but he’s added a black leather biker’s vest, and the combination of sexy and dangerous makes my mouth water.
“You got a minute?” he asks, his voice deep and his eyes serious.
A vision of Roxy and the shiny mane of hair hanging down her back as she stood between Sam’s legs floods my vision. I drop my eyes to the ground and try to control the feeling of nervous hurt churning in my stomach. “Sorry, but we’re actually pretty busy right now. I think I should stay and help Brook with the tent.”
Brook, her gossip sense as sharp as a third eye, shouts out, “Don’t you worry about a thing, darlin’! Go on and take a break. Amber and I can handle things here for a while.” Her smile looks sincere enough, but I’m not buying it for a minute. Brook lives for this kind of drama.
I look at Sam. His feet are firmly planted in the grass and he’s wearing a stern expression that makes me feel like I’m being summoned to the principal’s office.
“I tried calling you. Did you get my messages?”
I stub the toe of my sneaker into the dusty grass, squashing the angst building inside me. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I’ve been pretty busy lately.”
“Ellie,” Sam starts, his hand reaching for my arm.
I take a quick step back, away from him, and watch as hurt crosses his face. He retracts his hand and shoves it through his thick hair, dropping