go. She couldn’t go on like this, paying someone who didn’t show up or when he did, he spent the afternoon taking smoking breaks.
The customer paid her and then left, happy with his crow tattoo, and none the wiser that Mags’s heart hadn’t been in the design. Mags pulled her blue hair up into a bun at the crown of her head, stabbing it securely with a pencil she found on her shop’s counter. Cool air seeped in through the crack beneath the glass door, and she made a mental note once more that she needed to get to work sealing up her place. She wore just a thin T-shirt and jeans today, a poor choice for outside, which had dropped to near freezing on the edge of cold air from Canada. Winter was coming, she knew, as she watched people scurry down the sidewalk in front her shop, zipping up jackets and flipping up collars, meager protection against the cold air blowing off Lake Michigan, which lay just a few blocks to the east.
Mags’s phone buzzed, and she picked it up, eyeing yet another incoming text from Gael. She didn’t bother to open the notification and read it. That would just make things more complicated. And Mags didn’t do complicated. She liked simple. Straightforward. Just then, the door to her shop opened, and John—her new counter guy—wandered in then, dinging the bell. She glanced at her watch.
“You’re late,” she said.
“Yeah.” He shrugged, unconcerned. The lanky, pale kid was twenty-two. He wore a beanie snug on his head, covering his ears, and a black hoodie. His eyes were bloodshot, like he was either hungover or had been hitting a bong before he’d wandered into the store. She felt anger rising in her.
“Three hours late,” she said. “And yesterday you left early. In fact, you ducked out without saying anything at all.”
John glared at her, daring her to do something about it.
“You never came back after that last smoking break. Remember?” She couldn’t believe she was having to spell this out. She’d almost hoped John would just never return. But she wasn’t going to be so lucky. She tapped her nails on the glass. The sound felt loud.
“So?”
Mags temper flared, but she struggled to keep it under control. She needed to be the adult here.
“So, I’m sorry, John. But I need a more reliable counter guy.” Or none at all. This was what she got for relying on other people, she thought to herself. People almost always disappointed. Best just to do things yourself.
John just stared at her and didn’t blink.
“You’re fired, John.”
“What about what you owe me?” His voice was thick with menace. The kid was barely 110 pounds, so Mags thought she could take him in a fight. She’d taken a ton of self-defense classes at the Y. She knew how to flip a guy. She could flip this guy right on out of her store. But she did owe him for one day’s pay—the only time he’d actually worked a full day. Mags moved to the cash register and popped it open. She counted out six twenties and gave them to him. He snatched the bills from her hand.
“Seems light to me,” he said, the menace there again.
She really didn’t want to pop this kid in the nose, but if he kept this up, she would. She reached out under the counter, felt the cool can of Mace there. Mags could use that if she had to.
Her door dinged again, and this time, a man wearing a suit and a khaki-colored trench coat strolled in.
Gael.
For some reason, she felt relieved to see him. Relieved she wouldn’t have to take this scrappy, insolent kid on herself.
Gael glanced at John, his white-knuckled fist full of twenties, and then at Mags. “Everything okay here?”
“Fine,” Mags said. “John was just leaving.”
John glanced at Gael, his broad shoulders and shiny shoes, and considered his options. John flipped greasy hair from his eyes. Could he feel Gael’s strength? His solidness?
“You heard her. Time for you to go.” There it was. The voice. The command. Mags felt the vibrations of it in the back of her knees. John felt it, too. She saw a flicker of uneasiness in his eyes. So, Mags wasn’t the only one affected. Interesting.
“Whatever,” John grunted, and then he stuffed the twenties into his hoodie pocket. He grumbled something inaudible beneath his breath.
“What did you say?” Gael’s eyes narrowed.
John’s head whipped up. “Nothing, man,” he added, and then he was already