The Mall - Megan McCafferty Page 0,76

to you.”

Sam tapped the tape to his temple, then his heart.

“I’m not going to forget you,” he said.

I doubted I would ever forget him either. But I still couldn’t look him in the eyes. Is it any wonder Mixed Feelings had come in a very, very close runner-up?

“I should have gotten you a going-away gift,” he said apologetically.

“You can’t feel bad about that,” I reasoned. “You didn’t know I’d show up today.”

“I didn’t know, but I hoped you would,” he said. “And I should’ve prepared myself for the most optimistic outcome. That’s something new I’m trying out. Positive visualization. As an alternative to being mildly, chronically depressed.”

“You don’t strike me as mildly depressed,” I said, before correcting myself. “Well, maybe when we first met, you did. But after that…”

“After that,” he said, “I was trying to make up for what a jerk I was.”

“You’ve more than compensated for that first conversation,” I said. “I swear.”

“Are you sure? Is there anything you want in the store? The new Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch cassingle, perhaps?”

We were joking.

We were okay.

I hugged him. Hard. Pressed my nose into his shaggy sideburns and got a good whiff of lavender. He would make a great boyfriend for someone. Maybe that someone could be me someday. Just not right now.

I would not feel any regret when we let go.

“Thank you, Sam.”

His chest rumbled against mine in silent laughter. Then he pressed his mouth against my ear.

“By the way,” he said, “My name is George.”

48

TREASURE

“Attention, Parkway Center Mall customers. Five minutes to closing. Please make your way to the exits. Come back again soon!”

I had not managed my time very well. I was going against the tide of last-minute shoppers, the only person walking toward the stores and away from the doors. All the security gates were half drawn, the universal signal that you could still be let out of a shop, but would not be let in. I dipped under the shiny golden lattice, hoping Bellarosa Boutique would make an exception to the rule. Gia once told me it been Drea’s idea to spray-paint the dull gray grill to match the store’s opulent interior.

“If it were up to Drea, that gate would be lacquered in twenty-four-carat gold,” Gia had joked.

Drea didn’t deny it. “Doesn’t Bellarosa deserve the best?”

Drea did deserve the best. I didn’t see her, though. Had she left work early? Had I gotten there too late?

Gia was standing behind the register with a made-up, dressed-up brunette I’d never seen before. I guessed she was in her mid-twenties, but in true Bellarosa fashion, she could’ve been a decade older or younger.

“Cassie? What are you doing here?”

Gia practically vaulted over the counter to pull me into a deep, heavily perfumed embrace. Frank and Kathy weren’t huggy people, so Gia’s hands-on affection had taken some getting used to. I was back in my own clothes, so I didn’t look like a Bellarosa anymore. But in her arms, I still felt like family.

“I thought you left for school already.”

“Not until tomorrow.” I gave Gia an extra squeeze before loosening my grip. “I’m so sorry about the fashion show—”

Gia cut me off.

“Don’t worry about that, hon,” she said. “All that free publicity was fantastic for business!”

“Really?”

“Really! We’re up twenty percent!”

I sighed with relief. I never wanted to negatively affect Bellarosa’s bottom line.

The brunette cleared her throat.

“I was just talking to Crystal here about how much easier it will be for her to track receipts with the new computerized system…”

I was so used to her name being preceded by “No-Good” that I almost missed it. But when the momentousness of this introduction fully hit me, I couldn’t hold back.

“You’re Crystal Bellarosa!”

She wrinkled her nose.

“Duh Brooze Zee.”

“My brother’s wife’s brother’s kid,” Gia explained. “The D’Abruzzi cousins.”

The last name sounded familiar, but in the moment I couldn’t place it.

“Ohhhh,” I marveled.

This was historic. I’d finally come face-to-face with No-Good Crystal. If she hadn’t been so terrible at her job, I wouldn’t have gotten hired by Gia, fired by Drea. I wouldn’t be back in the store to bestow a possibly life-changing fortune.

“What are you doing here?”

All heads turned in Drea’s direction. Her words were the same as Gia’s, but her tone could not have been more different.

“I just need five minutes of your time,” I pleaded.

“I’ll give you thirty seconds,” Drea countered. “But only because you’re wearing one of my designs.”

“Three minutes.”

“Forty-five seconds.”

Gia and Crystal watched us go back and forth, like spectators in a tennis match.

“Ninety seconds.”

Drea sighed and rolled