Not Just Friends (Hot in the City #3) - T. Gephart Page 0,80

in greeting, while I grabbed some bottles from behind me and waited for Hayden’s answer.

“I’m a sales associate at Target. And do some medical transcription at home. It pays the bills.” I could hear in her tone how much she hated her job, almost as if she was ashamed of it. I hated that for her.

“Well, I sure as hell wouldn’t turn down that discount.” I shrugged, lowering two glasses on the bar. “I can’t go into the place without spending like a hundred bucks. Last week I went in for a throw rug and ended up with a cart full of stuff I didn’t need. Oh, and I totally forgot the throw rug so had to go back.”

Hank asked if I wanted him to take over, but I assured him we were fine, Hayden and I laughing about how much money we unnecessarily spent in Target while he continued to set up the bar.

“They have a lot of respect for you. Lots of bosses would have sat down, asked for drinks, not caring about what they had to get done.” She nodded to Hank. “I bet they love working here.”

I looked over at my bar manager, smiling because he was ignoring us. “It’s not hard to treat people with respect. And just because I have a degree doesn’t make me any more important than any of them. You can replace a club manager fairly easily, but good staff are hard to find. The place would fall in a heap. And I’m not above making my own drinks. I said I wouldn’t make them for misogynistic assholes, but for us is a different story.” I grinned, pouring the vodka, topping up with soda then dropping in some of the freshly cut lime. “So tell me, Hayden. You like working at Target? And I say that with no judgment. But I did warn you I was going to pry, and I get the feeling it wasn’t the dream job you had in mind.”

She sighed as I handed her a vodka and soda, telling me she’d dropped out of college her second year and her life got stuck in a rut. She’d done odd jobs here and there where she could, landing in retail because it was reliable.

“Wow, this is really good.” She nodded to the drink.

“Thanks, but it’s hard to mess up a lime, vodka and soda. I leave all the fancy stuff to the professionals. And you still haven’t answered my question. All you did was justify why you’re there.”

I wasn’t trying to put her on the spot or make her feel unwelcome. But as someone who was finally about to realize her dream, I wished that for other women too. So many times we were asked to settle. To wait our turn, to be happy with the scrapes we were given. And that wasn’t close enough to what we deserved. I could already tell Hayden deserved more too.

“It’s okay. Am I happy? No, not really, but I’d be less happy if I was unemployed and living on the streets.” Surprisingly she didn’t stop there, giving me a detailed explanation of the type of work she’d do if given a chance. She was incredibly analytical, very clear in the operational requirements of businesses, and what was involved in risk assessment and compliance. It was so refreshing, lacking the starchy, boring language that came from someone usually in the field.

She was clearly smart, her current retail role not even close to reaching her potential. And just like David had taken a risk on me, I’d easily hire someone who didn’t necessarily have the “right” qualifications if they had the right attitude and could think on their feet.

“It’s not too late.” I took a sip from my glass, enjoying the tartness of the lime. “You could take night classes. Online college.”

She laughed, probably assuming I was joking. “Or I could stay at Target and keep my amazing discount.”

There was something about her that was different, and I was pretty good at reading people. She was more than what she was showing on the outside, bottled-up potential that reminded me a lot of . . . well, me. Not sure why I even felt so strongly about it, I mean, we’d just met. And other than knowing Mack was crazy in love with her, I didn’t know a whole lot else. But I wanted to. I wanted to help her in some way, and had a hunch she’d be an amazing part of

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