No Attachments - By Tiffany King Page 0,12
answered, unpacking a box of candy bars. "I went out with Tressa and Brittni," I added as explanation for my hungover appearance.
"Ah, I see," she said chuckling. "Tipped up a few too many, did ya?
"A few I could have handled. The dozen or so after that is what killed me," I said, grimacing at the memory of my puke party earlier. If I never drank whiskey again, it would be too soon. "But at least I can cross getting trashed off my list."
"I don't remember trashed being on your list," she chirped, hoisting up a heavy box of canned goods before depositing them in front of the shelf where they needed to be unpacked.
"Oh, it wasn't, but after the pain I felt this morning, it was a last-minute write-in because I'm never going there again," I said, coming around the counter to help her carry the heavy boxes to the appropriate aisles. "I told you to stop lugging those heavy boxes around. That's why you hired me, right?" I chastised.
"Oh, sugar, I've been lugging boxes around before you were ever thought of. I hired you so I'd stop being the crazy old woman who talks to herself all day."
"You're so full of it. I know for a fact that Mr. James from the hardware store comes in here daily just to see you."
"He just likes the jerky I keep in stock," she smirked, pulling a box-cutter out of the pocket of her apron and carefully slicing the clear tape that sealed the carton.
"I believe you. Not. He comes in here because he wants to ride the Fran train," I retorted, tongue-in-cheek.
"Bite your tongue, young lady," Fran admonished me. She acted scandalized, but I knew better. Fran was a reality TV junkie, especially The Real Housewives. She claimed they were better than soap operas any day. "I should wash your mouth out," she threatened.
"Don't deny it. I've seen the way he checks you out when he's here. Just like I've seen you admiring his backside," I added, wagging my eyebrows at her.
"Honey, at our age, our asses are either boney as hell or a saggy mess of flesh. There's a reason our eyesight goes the older we get."
I snorted with laughter at her bluntness. That's why I enjoyed working with her so much, she always kept it real.
The tinkling of the bell over the door stalled any further comments. Fran shuffled off to the stockroom to deposit the empty boxes while I continued stocking the shelves. I could hear the customer in the next aisle and didn't bother to look up, figuring it was Mr. James to see Fran again. A moment later though, a shadow fell over me and I stiffened momentarily when the heavy cologne the individual was wearing swirled around me. It was a scent that was already imprinted in my memory bank. I whirled around with dread, knowing exactly who towered over me. My precarious stance and the fact that my head wasn't a hundred percent back to normal worked against me as I lost my balance and landed hard on my butt. The momentum of my fall sent me crashing into the pyramid of cans I had just assembled, making them fly in every direction.
"Well, shit," I grumbled when I found myself flat on my back at his feet. Would there be no end to embarrassing myself in front of him?
"Here, let me help you up," he said chivalrously in the same sexy voice from the night before. If I'd had any thoughts that his voice only sounded sinful the night before because of the amount of alcohol I had consumed, I was delusional.
"I got it," I said, hoisting myself up with as much dignity as I could summon. Once I got myself upright, I finally spared a glance at him. To my dismay, he was studying me in the same bemused manor he'd done the previous evening. Without whiskey clouding my brain, I didn't find it as cute to be the object of his amusement. "What are you doing here?" I sniped.
"Is the store closed?" he asked, looking around.
"Not 'in the store, here.' I mean, what are you still doing in town? I thought you were just passing through."
"Disappointed?" he asked. "I decided after our engaging conversation last night that maybe I'd check out all the perks you mentioned of living in a small town. You made it all seem so appealing, so I thought, 'hey, I gotta be missing out.' I thought I could