Mallory Loves Me

“What?” Mallory looked all around her; the motorcycle shop was a madhouse.

The first day of my new job as a retail associate so happened to be the start of Bike Week. I had to be bussed in from a church almost a mile away since the parking lot and street leading into the headquarters was filled with a stage, vendors, and droves of bikers from all over the world. Tomorrow Eddie Money would be performing and later this week, Joan Jett, but first, I had to make it through today.

“I’m sorry about this.” My supervisor was barely audible, and I only caught every other word as we pushed inside the store.

We walked further in, the music and rumbling bikes muted to a reasonable level.

“What did you say?” I spoke up, worried she wouldn’t be able to hear me.

“I’m sorry to throw you to the wolves like this,” started the supervisor.

Before she could finish, a tall and very handsome Latino man found us. His hazel eyes made my breath catch, his thick dark hair starting to escape from under his baseball cap in some places. He had to be every bit of six foot two like my father and with broad shoulders to match; he made for a wall of a person.

The supervisor’s face lit up with recognition, “Oh, Diego, this is…”

“Yeah,” He gave me a dirty look. “Hi Vanessa, Racquel wants you.” He interrupted, giving me a half-hearted smile and wave. “Like, yesterday.”

Vanessa twisted back to me, repeating, “Sorry, I…” Turning back, she realized Diego run off before she could dump me on him. “Ugh, I need to see what Racquel needs. Our fashion show is about to start, and she needs help dressing the models.”

“No problem.” I smiled, following her as she began weaving through customers and merchandise. “Maybe I can help.”

“Sure.” She gave me a skeptical glance as if to say, yeah, right.

In a corner of the store we found Racquel, along with two models. Both girls had tall athletic builds, one Blonde and a Brunette. Each of them had a few items in hand, but they looked pained as they attempted to piece together outfits to wear on the catwalk. When they saw Vanessa coming, a look of relief washed over them. The staff I’d met so far had all been wearing jeans and matching shirts bearing the shop’s logo. Racquel, her gold name tag flashing as it caught the light, wore a navy-blue suit jacket and pencil skirt.

“Vanessa, I can’t figure out what to put them in.” Racquel flustered, dumping what she was holding into Vanessa’s arms. “Jeans and shorts, yeah, but what else do we have?”

“Well, besides showing off the new products, it would be nice to mix Spring and Summer apparel along with big ticket items.” Said Vanessa, sorting through the clothes, handing off a few items to the models before tossing the rest on a nearby cart. “What else have you picked out?”

“I grabbed this bikini,” the Brunette offered as she found herself losing the jeans to the Blonde and given the cut-off shorts.

“Ooooh, the jeans will work great with this shirt.” The Blonde said, eagerly holding up a long sleeve shirt. “I liked the tattooed arms on this one.”

“Yeah, but it’s a discontinued Winter line.” Vanessa pursed her lips, absently pushing her glasses up on her nose. Barely reaching my shoulder, she was the shortest person there at a mere five feet. She had the longest braid of hair I had ever seen, the end reaching to her knees. “I need to decide which shirt to put you in that I want gone.”

“How about the new burning palm trees?” I chipped in, but they fell silent, staring at me. “We still have most of the shipment, and didn’t you say you were shocked it didn’t move better, Vanessa?”

Racquel winced, “But it’s just a t-shirt.”

“Exactly.” I interjected, ready to defend my idea. Without waiting for further comment, I spun around, quickly working my way to the front and grabbing a shirt before returning with it. “It’s hot here in Orlando; a t-shirt is the way to go, but everyone still wears jeans to protect their legs. No one wants a burn from a hot exhaust pipe when getting on and off the back of the bike.” I had their full attention and I ran wild with it. I need this job to work out. “She can wear the white version, since it’s bright and makes the back-logo scream, but here in the front, tie it up and show a little skin so they get that summer-ride-on-the-beach feel.”

“Go put them on. I want to see how this looks.” Racquel’s tone had flattened. I became very aware she held a higher position than I had originally assumed. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“M-mallory.” Nervous, I tucked a strand of my auburn hair behind by ear. “Sorry, I was just trying to be helpful.”

“You’re fine, Mallory.” Racquel reassured, a grin spreading across her face. “Not everyone has the guts to approach me and express an opinion so openly.”

“Mallory, Racquel is in charge of innovating the franchise, including the business side of this branch.” Vanessa announced. The fitting room door opened, stealing Vanessa’s attention from me, she sucked her breath in sharply. “Oh, wow. That looks…”

This is the moment of truth. I held my breath.

“Amazing. I love it.” Racquel interjected, hands on her hips. “Vanessa, you can go back to what you were doing. Mallory, what else do you suggest?”

My face reddening, I turned to Vanessa, feeling guilty but she’d already darted off. Taking a deep breath to center myself, I imagined taking up the reigns, trying not to let my nerves get the better of me. A moment ago, I’d had all the confidence in the world, but it had deserted me and left me terrified. Judging by how fast she’d left, even my supervisor feared the woman. Letting out my breath, I gathered all the information I’d learned in the short time between my interview and when I’d arrived today.

I turned my attention to the models, taking charge, “Well, what are your preferences? If you don’t feel comfortable in what we put you in, it’s going to make it hard to convince a bunch of bikers to buy it.”

Racquel laughed, “I like you.”

“Well…” The Brunette hesitated, as if unsure if she should say anything. “Um… can I have a shirt, too? Honestly, the thought of only wearing a bikini top makes my skin crawl.”

I held up my hand as ideas flashed through my head. “You’ve got a point. Give me a moment. I’ll be right back with some items.”

Leaving them, I tried to remember where all the clothes were that I wanted to use were located. My first stop was the first stop was the clearance rack. I’d been in the store a few weeks ago, and as I’d expected, there was still the pile of eight chainmail tank tops. They were forty-percent off, but still a hundred bucks. Gathering the tank tops, I turned away and found myself in the leather section and picked out a suede jacket and a leather pencil skirt. Spinning around, I calculated my location and aimed for the accessories section. Once there, I grabbed hats, scarves, and gloves, then turned and almost collided into someone.

“Why are you messing around? It’s not the best time to be shopping, ya know?” A male voice called my attention. Diego was leaning on a shelf. Crossing his arms, he glared down at me. “Not the best way to start your first day on the job.”

My face flushed, and I tried to walk pass him. He moved to block me, a wall of a person, indeed. I gauged the look in his eyes and for a moment, lost myself in picking out the blue and green flecks filling the steel blue gray. Suddenly remembering my task, my urgency returned, and I decided I didn’t have time to waste on someone hellbent on being an asshole. Three strides away and a hand grabbed my shoulder.

The heat in my cheeks burning, I blurted, “I’m dressing the models for Racquel; I don’t have time to talk.”

His eyes widened in shock, and as he released me, I ran back to the corner of the store. On the way, I grabbed some of the tank tops and sale items I noticed there were heaps of, which meant there was less risk of selling out. Finally making it back, I unceremoniously dumped the pile on the cart and the others circled it like treasure. They watched as I began laying out the items as if I were setting up for a presentation, or to sell my own merchandise. Stepping back, I thought for a moment, my eyes dancing between the two models and outfits I laid out.

“Ok, here’s a hat, glasses, and a chainmail vest.” I was glad to be back in good company. Handing them to the Brunette, I turned to the Blonde as she rushed into the fitting room. “Let’s see how this tank top, leather skirt and suede jacket look on you.”

The Blonde’s eyes lit up when she saw the jacket. “I love this. Racquel, I might buy this before I leave!”

“Accessories.” Racquel nodded, laughing. “I hadn’t even thought of anything beyond shirt and pants.”

Smiling, I couldn’t help but feel I was winning today.

I spoke up, explaining why I’d chosen the items. “The chainmail is actually a clearance item and we have a lot of it. Vanessa said she had eight on the rack and some in the back still, so here’s hoping I can convince customers to buy it and unload it all the way.”

The Brunette came out and she was all smiles, announcing, “This has got to be the coolest outfit ever. Did you say this chainmail tank is on sale?”

“Yeah, and I hoped it would make you feel less naked up there, but still pull off a strong biker look.” I added. She spun around, and I took in my handiwork, a sense of pride filling me. “Glad you like it. I’m not brave enough to wear something like that, but I’d love to if I had a body like yours.”

“Mallory, I am blown away.” Racquel said, holding out her hand, offering to shake it. “I know you were only hired as temporary relief for the event, but I’ll hire you on permanently. You have a good eye, and a good mindset for moving product; letting someone with your talents walk out of here would be a mistake.”

“Uh, th-thank you!” I was shocked; not only that she knew my name, but that she was even aware of my temporary status.

We organized a few more outfits, my mind in a daze, before Racquel and the models left me alone in the corner. Sighing, I looked around, noticing the mess and decided to clean things up. I busied myself with folding shirts, placing items on hangers, and scurried about, putting them back where they belonged. I’d find myself reorganizing shelves and straightening racks that had been ransacked. When I returned to the cart, I had two items left: a scarf and a hat.

Frowning, I picked them up and swiveled my head to the accessories department, thankful it was just an open room format for the whole store. I could spy on the whole store from my dark corner by the clearance rack. My eyes caught the telltale orange and black ball cap with the locks of hair snaking out. Mister Medusa could be seen talking to a customer. Steeling my resolve, I marched to his section to replace what I had borrowed.

He’s busy, Mallory. Just glide in, put this back crap back, and get the heck out.

I circled to the back side, hoping to come in from his blind spot, exactly where I had learned not to go when I raised cattle. First stop was the scarves, which I chose to get out of the way since they were on the wall directly behind him. Once that was done, I turned, keeping my movements slow so I’d remain unnoticed. Scanning the tops of the shelves, hat in hand, I sought among the stacks.

Ah! There they are!

Unfortunately, seeing how close they were to Diego, I groaned to myself. It would put me out of my projected safety zone. Looking back to Diego, I saw he was leaning on a shelf, still chatting with the same gentleman. Inhaling, I held my breath, wishing it could make me invisible. I strutted down the aisle near them, and I could see him eyeing me as I passed. Unable to hold my breath any longer, I released it in a rush, still tense. I returned the hat in its proper stack, then straightened them and the stacks nearby. Feeling daggers boring into me, I turned, hoping to make my escape.

“I can take care of my own department, you know.” Diego condescending tone caused my entire body to stiffen further and I froze in place. “I’ve been here for quite a while; it’s not my first time working Bike Week.”

Closing my eyes, I tried to hold my temper in check. “We didn’t use it for the fashion show. I was just returning it and making sure I didn’t make a mess. You’re welcome.” Without another word and not daring to look at him, I marched off. “The nerve…”

“H-hey, wait a minute!” I could hear Diego calling out to me, but the store was suddenly packed.

I wove my way through the waves of shoppers as best I could. It was almost as if someone had flipped a switch, and they flocked in from the event outside.

Did the show outside end? Are they taking advantage of the intermission to shop?

By the time I weaseled my way to the fitting room and cart, a surge of customers had begun to dig through the clearance section. I had a new pile of items stacked on my cart, clothes abandoned, or so I thought. As I reached down to start sorting through them, a woman came flying over.

“No! Those are mine!” She chirped. “But I could use your help.”

“How may I help you, ma’am.” I smiled, relieved I didn’t have to try and put away the huge stack. “I’m new, so bear with me.”

“Well, I just watched the fashion show.” My heart sped up, was it a success? “And the one girl had on a chain vest, I think?”

“Oh, yes, we have…” I walked around to get a better look at the clearance rack and paled. Only one vest remained, an extra small and neither me nor the woman would ever fit into it; not with our cup sizes. “Uh… well, I guess everyone wanted one,” I said weakly. “I know my supervisor had more, but I’m not sure what size they were. Give me a moment to grab her and find out.”

“Oh thank you.” She grabbed my arm before I could leave. “I’m going to leave my stack on your cart, but I wanted the palm tree shirt too.”

I sighed in relief. At least I know we have a warehouse full of those. “See the huge shirt wall over there? You can find them, as well as a few variants, there. We have a ton of those and they shouldn’t sell out.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” And we went our separate ways.

At this point, the amount of bodies had thickened. It was impossible not to push past people as I searched for Vanessa. I made it to the cashier’s counter, but everyone was too busy for me to get a word in, edgewise. Six registers were dinging and receipts printing left and right. Feeling overwhelmed, trying to think of my next move, I paused as I heard a shout from the leather department.

“WE HAVE SOLD OUT OF SUEDE JACKETS.”

Holy cow. I think I may have caused a retail nightmare. All the employees are going to hate me at this rate.

Swallowing back my panic, I spun around to see Vanessa. “DENISE!”

She spun one way then the other before seeing me. “Mallory!” In her hand were two chainmail vests, both extra small. “I can’t believe this is all I have left!”

“Aww, and I had a customer asking for a bigger size. Here, I’ll take those since I have to head back to that way.” She unloaded them on me and laughed as she took in the store.

“Honey, I don’t know what magic you used, but I’ve never had this kind of reaction to a fashion show.” She patted me on the back. “And I saw you straightening out the back section and the front tables. Keep it up!”

With that, she was gone again. By the time I made it back to my little section, the customer had returned. She had added to her pile on the cart, having chosen several versions of the palm shirts and selecting more after browsing through the clearance section. Sighing, I had to give her the bad news.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. It seems all we have left is only in extra small.” I placed the two I’d been holding on the rack and realized the third had been taken. “Oh wow, it looks like someone took the one that was here.”

“Yeah, it was a good look with a bikini underneath.” She slumped her shoulders in disappointment. “Oh well. Can’t always have everything you want.”

“How about I take this pile to the front counter for you?” I started stacking and organizing her selections. “When you’re ready to cash out, it’ll be there waiting for you. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Oh, yes, please!” She said, relieved. “Then I can shop without worrying whether or not someone will take them, and I won’t have to carry it all.” She peered around the department in frustration. “I was also looking for the black skirt the other girl was wearing.”

“Oh, you’ll find that by the leather jackets.” She brightened and immediately rushed off.

By the time closing rolled around, that woman had been the top sale of the day. This woman’s purchase total reached into the four-digit range. Seeing it had almost given me a heart attack, but Vanessa was thrilled how helpful and sweet I’d been. It seemed I had more than earned my keep, even if it had only been my first day. My hope to impress had succeeded beyond my wildest expectations.

***

Bike week had ended, and the store was deserted. Racquel had been ecstatic over the results of the fashion show and Vanessa had emptied her warehouse stock on a few items that had been gathering dust. Everyone was happy with me, earning me the ability to stay on board as a permanent employee.

Well, maybe not Diego. I’m convinced he has it out for me.

I kept gravitating to the same back corner of the store, hidden away and just working at my own pace. It was funny no one had actually told me what I was supposed to be doing. I clocked in, did my thing, stopping only for lunch, and clocked out at the end of my shift. Nothing more, and nothing less.

Folding shirts, running in automatic mode, my mind was free to roam, lost in a sea of thoughts. I flinched, yanked from my thoughts as I looked up. Vanessa was there, standing between two racks, ready to snap a photo of me. She lowered the camera, making a face of disapproval. I cleared off the rest of the cart quickly, before giving her my full attention. Lifting an eyebrow, I smirked as if to say, I caught you!

“Darn it.” Disappointed, she motioned for me to stand up tall. “Pose for me. I want to get pictures of everyone.”

“How about this?” I pulled my long hair down over each shoulder. Then, using the cart in front of me, I leaned forward onto my arms, giving her my best smile.

“Ah, love it!” And with that, she was gone again.

Turning back to my cart, I pulled out the stack of shirts and finished folding them. Off I went, placing them on the designated tables and tidying up wherever I went. Pausing as I passed near the women’s shirt sale table, I winced. I’d always had an eye for colors, and how they complemented each other. On one side of the table, all the shirts were cold colors; on the other, two similar colors had been stacked against each other. Unable to stand the eyesore, I pulled my cart over and began rearranging their placement. One of the cashiers watched me curious as to what I was doing. One last adjustment and I stepped back to admire the now visually pleasing display.

“Wow, I’m impressed. I was wondering what on earth you were doing to my table, but I see what you did.” She smiled, leaning over the counter.

“Yeah, it was bugging me, sorry.” I blushed, feeling a bit guilty. “I didn’t mean to hijack your section or intrude.”

“Oh, by all means, hijack some more!” Laughing, she offered her hand. “I’m Kim, nice to meet you.”

“Mallory. Nice to meet you too,” I replied, feeling a sense of camaraderie from her. I turned back toward the tables, eye the clothes. “I’ll leave it alone and see if the shift does anything. By the way, is it always this dead after Bike Week?”

“The week after always feels super dead. But, in my opinion, we’re normally slow. It’s hard to stay awake sometimes.” I nodded, taking the information to heart. “I’ll keep an eye out to see if customers start buying more shirts.”

“Thanks.” Sighing, I looked at my watch, only three hours left of this shift. “I guess I’ll get back to my corner. I’ll grab the next stack of shirts to fold from here and do them. Feel free to send it all my way if you want. Who else is supposed to work today?”

“Diego.” She beamed, her face lighting up with interest.

Well, at least someone likes him.

I winced, “Oh, him.”

“Huh?” Kim blinked, shocked by my reaction. “He’s such a nice guy! What happened? He’s sweet, and always quick to help me behind the counter.”

“He came off rude to me. I don’t know, just…” My voice trailed off as I tried to pick my words carefully. Of course, he helps you. You’re a super cute, petite red-head and I’m over here like a sack of potatoes in a biker shirt. Unable to think of anything suitable, I shrugged. “Anyhow, back to work I go.”

Without waiting for a reply, I left the area as fast I could without actually running, unwilling to discuss Diego further. I knew nothing good would come of it. If I was the only one who had a problem with him, then I’d have to keep my mouth shut, head down, and deal with it. Why disrupt everything just because he kept ruffling my feathers.

Besides, we don’t work in the same area. It’s fine.

“Mallory!” Vanessa caught me on my way back to the cart. “Honey, do you think you can close tonight?”

“Uh, sure. I don’t have anything else going on and I could use the hours.” It was indeed better than sitting at home, in the dark, alone. “Is there anything special I need to do?”

“Oh, they’ll let you know.” She gave me a thumbs up and left before clarifying who they were.

On my cart was a new stack of shirts. Vanessa had obviously dropped them off when she’d come looking for me, and considering I now had eight hours to go, I needed to do something to pass the time. I watched from my little corner as Kim clocked out and another girl came in. Sticking to my area had made it difficult to learn anyone’s names, but most shifts came and went before I had a chance to learn their names. Setting the folded stack underneath my work area on the cart, I grabbed another pile to fold. Again, the sensation of being watched made me jerk my head up.

Diego’s hazel eyes narrowed. “Is this all you do?”

How long has he been there watching me? God, give me patience.

Closing my eyes, I steeled myself. “For the most part, yes. No one else volunteers to do this, now do they?”

“True.” His eyebrows lifted high as if impressed by my answer. “Kim said you rearranged the front table. Was it really that big of a mess?”

“No, it was fine.” I kept my eyes centered on my task, folding them with extra care as I avoided his heated glare. “The colors were all wonky, so I shifted everything. The two ed-toned shirts clashed next to each other; it was killing me, so I moved them to opposite sides.”

“That was your only reason?” He huffed, looming there in my peripheral like an oncoming storm.

What else does he want me to say?

Silence fell between us and I fought the urge to look up. I finished the last shirt, moved the stack down, and found I had finished the box.

CRAP! I don’t have any more excuses not to engage the enemy! I took a deep breath. Calm down, it’s ok. You got this, Mallory.

My heart skipped a beat as I straightened. Diego was just there, watching me. I puffed out my cheeks in frustration. We stared at one another for some time before my eyes shifted away, seeking someplace else to stare. My eyes fell on a star shaped tattoo on his wrist, prominently displayed as he leaned it across the shelf.

Following my gaze, he shifted his arm further, allowing me a better look. “Fan of tattoos?”

“You could say that.” I shrugged, “So why a star and why on the wrist?”

I’m not telling him I’m apprenticing at a local shop Thursday through Sunday. Last thing I want is him coming in there. Hmph. Now it’s my turn to ask obnoxious questions.

His eyes searched my face a moment, before finally replying, “Personal.”

I smirked, walking around the cart to lean against it. “If it was that personal, you’d put it where the sun don’t shine. On the wrist, I assume it’s something you never want to forget and possibly share with those who ask. Well, I’m asking.”

He tilted his head, his mouth opening then closing. “You’re right. It’s something I never want to forget.”

I narrowed my eyes, a smirk on my face. “It’s ok if it’s too personal to share.” The words rolled out of me, as if I were declaring a challenge between us.

“It was for friend.” His voice had shifted, the tone making me rethink my attitude. “Well. My cousin, more than my friend. He ended up in a coma and needed to be taken care of, so I was always there. Even when he took his last breath.”

Well, now I feel like a complete ass. It was my turn to fight for words. “I’m… I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be.” He came closer and my heart started racing.

Why closer? You were fine way over there leaning on the shelf! Go back! Ah, my face…

My cheeks were burning. I became very aware of how tall and athletically built he was, standing barely an arm’s length away. He rolled up his sleeves, turning both wrists to show me the stars on each wrist. They were old school nautical stars, simply done in a black ink. Then I realized something far more profound about his tattoos. The skin was raised, and I recognized the technique. He had requested for them to scar them into place. If the ink should fade, all that would remain would be star shaped scars.

“Oh wow, you had them raise the skin.” My eyes shifted back to his face; his expression had softened. It no longer held the hint of malice. “That’s rather brave on your part, and admirable.”

“Yup.” He shuffled the sleeves down.

“But why the star?” I had to know more. As a tattoo artist, it was inspiring to hear all the reasons behind the choices clients made. “I imagine you had a reason for picking it.”

“In the old days, sailors would tattoo nautical stars somewhere on their bodies.” He spun away, and I couldn’t see his face any longer. “It’s said that it grants them, or at least their souls, safe passage home.”

“I like that concept.” I smiled, but he couldn’t see it. “I didn’t know that; I’ll have to remember that for future reference.”

He inhaled, holding it there before releasing it. “Good talk, Mallory. We’ll have to do this more often.”

He vanished beyond my view. I turned back to my cart, palms flat on it as I slowly went to pieces. It seemed as if everything had gone still, my breathing ragged. The change in his demeanor had happened so fast my head was still reeling from the shock. I could still feel the heat in my cheeks as I covered my mouth.

What was that just now? Why is am I so embarrassed? What’s happening to me?

For the rest of the evening, I kept glancing up, expecting Diego to be there at any moment, but he was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled, I couldn’t help but wonder where he was.

Had his shift ended when he came over to talk to me? Oh God, did Kim say something to him? Oh, please no! How embarrassing!

***

The next day I watched the salesfloor like a hawk. My targets were Kim and Diego. One I wanted to talk to, the other I still planned to avoid like the plague. Glancing at my watch again, it was finally time for shift change. I scanned the floor, hovering between the door to the employee area and the registers. My eyes caught the familiar flicker of red hair. Abandoning my cart, I marched to the counter for answers.

“Did you tell him?” I cornered Kim with a dangerous look on my face.

“Tell who what?” She threw up her hands as if being pleading the fifth. “What did I do wrong?”

I leaned over the counter, keeping my voice low. “Diego, and the fact I didn’t care for him.”

“Noo… why?” She started laughing, “Did something happen?” She leaned on the counter, curious.

“He came over to… talk.” I narrowed my eyes, suspicious thoughts flying through my mind. “At first I thought he was giving me a hard time about messing with your table.”

“Oh, I forgot.” Kim tapped her fingers against her lip. “He did ask me about that.”

“Did he, now?” I raised an eyebrow. “What did he have to say about it?”

“Well…” She was struggling to recall her conversation with him. “I told him what you told me. He eyed the table, laughed, and walked away.”

“Laughed, huh?” Looking back to the table, I saw all but one stack of the pink shirts was gone. “Ah, moving those away from the red ones worked. Didn’t we have three huge stacks of the pink?”

“Y-yea.” She stood on her tippy-toes to eye the table herself. “I guess the changes really did make a difference. You may have to redo the whole table to get the other colors selling.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” And left to keep myself busy and my mind off Diego.

***

It seemed like an eternity had gone by, and still, I hadn’t seen Diego even once. Honestly, I was relieved. They had changed my hours to the closing shift, during the week when it was slower. It seemed no one wanted to work this shift, but it suited me just fine. Thanks to the lack of customers, I had time to rearrange the squares on the t-shirt wall and discuss which products weren’t moving with Vanessa. I made adjustments to displays and made them more appealing to look at, hoping to attract more customers. I even spent time changing the mannequins, something that became obvious that no one had ever bothered with, as I turned in several dusty, faded apparel we could no longer sell.

It was getting late, but there was still one more shift change before I’d be left alone with whoever was working the night shift. No matter the person, they’d stick to the counter while I decluttered the displays and straightened the shelves. When closing came around, I was usually allowed to leave early, sometimes by as much as an hour.

Tonight, however, I wouldn’t be leaving early. Vanessa had left me with two huge boxes of new shirts to fold, inventory, and replace in the box to await their release date. I had graduated from reorganizing entire displays, to prepping for changeouts. Despite initially enjoying the solitude, I was now bored, and even lonely. All my hard work had gotten me relegated to No Man’s Land. Now the solitude felt heavy, and oppressive; the realization that I only knew three… no, four names, was depressing.

I need this job. I just need to earn enough money to escape, then I’ll find something better.

“Mallory is dancing, in the room above my bed…”

A sing-song male voice floated above the blaring of ACDC, the store’s preferred soundtrack.

“Mallory is leaving in a car, outside my house, ya know…”

I tensed, freezing as the words hit my ears. Wait, that’s my name…

“Such a shame she’s not with me… Mallory loves me!”

I swallowed. Did one of my friends decide to mess with me, since it’s a new job.

“All the pretty things and all the love my heart could bring…”

My eyes sought frantically, but I was unable to see anyone behind all the shelves and racks.

“I would give my whole life to her…”

The heat in my face made me feel faint. My heart pounded in my chest as if there were a thousand wild stallions, running away from me.

“Mallory loves me!” Diego leaned into view, startling me.

My breath caught in my throat as I jumped about a mile, grabbing my chest. He had used the open fitting room door to approach unseen in my blind spot.

Was that payback for that day during Bike Week or something?

I finally caught my breath, “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Aw, did you not like my song?” He puckered out his bottom lip.

Baffled, I looked up at him, unsure how to feel about it. “Did… did you just shout, *Mallory loves me?“*

A grin snaked across his lips, “Well, that’s how the song goes.”

“I wouldn’t know; I’ve never heard of it.” My heart had slowed, but I was sure my face looked as if I’d ran the Boston Marathon while hopping on one leg; beet red. “I didn’t think there were any songs with my name.”

“There’s one.” He leaned on the wall next to me, close enough that I could smell his cologne. It was a scent I was familiar with, Chrome, and was very popular among bikers. In fact, it had become my favorite. My cheeks grew warmer and he laughed as he noticed how red my face was becoming. “You should look it up if you don’t believe me.”

“I’ll do that.” I cleared my throat, unable to look him in the eyes. “I guess we’re closing the store together tonight?”

“Yeah, Vanessa needed someone and when she said you were working, I told her I’d do it.” He said it so casually, the words just falling out of his mouth, and I felt my heart flicker.

“Why does it matter if I’m here or not?” Tugging on my bike week lanyard, I was thankful I didn’t have an official nametag yet, as it gave me something to keep my hands busy as I felt my anxiety skyrocket. “What’s so special about closing the store with me?”

I could feel his eyes looking me over.

Can he tell how nervous I am? I feel as if he can read every thought, loud and clear.

“You’re a hard worker, Mallory.” I stole a quick glance, his hazel eyes catching my own and he smirked.

He caught me!

“You don’t get lazy like the others.” He shrugged, his stare giving nothing away.

“Ah, that’s a fair point.” It prompted me to bend down, shuffling the folded shirts into the other box as a cover-up for attempting to hide behind my cart.

Stop staring at me; it’s awkward and I don’t like you. Even if I can’t deny how good looking you are, which only makes it a hundred times more frustrating.

Reluctantly, I finally said, “T-thank you for helping me close tonight.”

Make peace with him, Mallory. It’s now or never.

“You’re welcome.” He chirped, walking over to lean on a nearby shelf. With his back to me, he seemed less threatening and the tension was fading.

“So, what’s happening in the world of Mallory?”

Letting myself calm down, I came out of hiding. “Nothing much. I’ve been wondering what to write for my Art History paper. We have to choose something dealing with Florida or architecture.”

“Oh yeah?” He spun around, a new sense of interest written on his face. “What were you thinking of writing about?”

“I want to do a Florida-based Architecture piece.” I puffed out my cheeks and confessed. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m an overachiever, so I’d really like to find a way to do both themes.”

“Shotgun houses.” Diego replied without hesitation. His answer took me by surprise and I furrowed my brow, unsure what he was suggesting. “Winter Park, where I live, is full of them. There’re a lot of them here in Florida, since they ventilate well. If you want to do something both old and uniquely Florida, shotgun houses would be my choice.”

“Shotgun houses.” I repeated, contemplating what the name was hinting about the floor plan. “Oh, you mean the ones where the doors all line up and you can literally run straight through from front to back? And the really old ones have the fireplace in the center of the house, right?”

“See, you know what I’m talking about.” He smirked triumphantly. “Let me know if you need any help. I can give you a tour of my neighborhood if you want.”

My heart fluttered, frantic at the idea of being alone with him outside of work. “Y-yeah, I should be able to find pictures and floorplans online. Thank you, that’s exactly the sort of concept I wanted to write about.”

“I half expected you to say Roman Architecture or Orange groves.” Again, he turned his back to me and I was positive he knew I was still rattled by the song.

Ugh, why do I keep blushing every time he looks at me? I’m not crushing on this jerk, am I? No! You can’t do that, Mallory! Pull yourself together! Crap, I ran out of shirts to fold. Well, I do have those shirts the one lady unfolded that need to be put back on the shelf. Mallory, put him to work!

“Nope. Last thing I want to do is submit another paper on Roman columns and temples; he’s probably read twenty of them already.” I laughed, pulling a pile of shirts out from the bottom of the cart. Nudging his shoulder, I handed him a stack of shirts. “Come on, help me put these back where they belong.”

“Ugh, why so many?” His eyes bounced from his stack, to mine, and the stack I had placed on top of the cart. “Were we busy earlier?”

“Nope.” I started to walk off, my cheeks finally cooling down. “Just one little old lady unfolded all of these.”

“But there’s like, eight of the same one.” Laughing, he caught up to me. “Why?”

“She kept circling and unfolding them. I don’t think even she knew why.” We both started laughing, the tension between us finally breaking. “I mean, she was like a vulture, just circling and picking, again and again. I’d say a shark, but a shark would have at least found something to buy before leaving.

It felt good to hear him laugh. By the look on his face, he was clearly enjoying the imagery, and I smiled to myself. It only took a few minutes, travelling back and forth, before we’d returned all the misplaced clothes. Looking at my watch, I couldn’t believe how much time had passed; we only had about thirty minutes before we’d lock the doors and begin cashing out the registers and shutting down computers. I sighed in relief. It seemed we’d finally gotten past being enemies and had somehow become friends over the course of the shift. The tension I’d felt had finally released me and I could breathe easier in Diego’s presence. My thoughts wondered back to the lyrics he had sung, Mallory loves me, and I could feel my face burning again, only this time, it was because of the crush that was starting to blossom.

No, you can’t start this now!

I covered my face, eyes closed tight as I tried to stop the avalanche of feelings.

Nothing ever comes from crushing over the dark, tall and handsome guy. High school taught me that. Pull it together, you glutton for punishment!

“So, Mallory.” Diego was leaning on yet another shelf, and I wondered if he’d been watching me as I struggled with my internal thoughts. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

The question shook me, bringing the thoughts to a screeching halt. “Oh God no! Nobody wants a girl like me.”

He scrunched his face, snorting. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Maybe I just don’t have time to look for one.” I felt a little angry. It’s not like I enjoy being alone all the time. “What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”

It’s only fair to ask back! Meh!

“No, no girlfriend.”

I bit my bottom lip. He stared at me with that intense look of his. Silence reigned between us, as if he were listening to the internal dialogue screaming at me and rattling my core. He said he was single, but I’d overheard the other girls chatting. None of them knew his relationship status, though many had tried to get it out of him. Eating lunch off in a corner, I could still hear the girls whining about how he’d laugh, shrug, and walk away whenever they tried to pry an answer out of him.

Why is he telling me this? Wait, why was he asking me in the first place? No, he couldn’t be interested in me…

I knew my face was red again. I didn’t need the heat in my cheeks or my rising heartbeat to tell me that. He was smiling, a self-satisfied smirk really, knowing he’d made me blush and that I was left speechless. He turned away, and I opened my mouth to stop him, wanting to ask for an explanation, but I’d lost the courage.

Was it my imagination getting the better of me?

***

Not long after that, I found more and more of my shifts had me teamed with Diego. Part of me wondered if he had requested it, but I refused to let myself believe it, and shut the idea out completely.

Why would he want to work with a girl as plain as me?

I had gone home that night and downloaded the song so I could listen to it. Each time I heard him sing it, my face would glow red and my smile bigger than the last time I’d heard it. It wasn’t that he was an amazing singer (he certainly wasn’t), but for a girl with no self-esteem, the lyrics were heart-wrenching. At some point, my self-esteem no longer got in the way of my enjoyment at listening to a hot coworker who seemed to dote on me.

“What ever happened with that Art History paper? Did you really write about shotgun houses?” He had clocked in and meandered his way to my corner. “I thought you’d have asked for my help by now. It’s a shame, I was really looking forward to you coming over.”

“I don’t need help writing a paper.” Huffing, I paused my folding, feeling the need to defend my pride. “I got an A and he pulled me aside after class to thank me for not doing Roman architecture.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “So how many people wrote about Roman columns?”

“About five, for sure.” I replied as I resumed folding. “But, really, he appreciated the topic. I let him know I had help picking it out, so thank you. It was a great suggestion.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled, and I could see he was trying to come up with another topic.

Before he thought of one, I heard voices and glanced behind him.

“Back to work we go,” I said, nodding to the customers approaching our section.

Without a word, he spun on his heel, crossing the floor with ease. As I worked, I would steal glances and attempted to eavesdrop on the conversation. It took me a minute to realize they were speaking another language. At first, I assumed it was Spanish, but as I listened, I decided it had to be Portuguese. Pausing, I watched with greater interest. I had already heard him speak fluent Spanish and French. Now, I witnessed the flawless execution of Portuguese. He finished helping them with their selections, cashing them out and even sending them off with a Portuguese farewell.

As he came back within earshot, I couldn’t resist asking, “How many languages do you speak?”

“Oh, so you noticed?” His face turned smug. “How many do you think I speak?”

“I’ve heard at least three since I started here.” I pursed my lips. “So how many do you know?”

“Let’s see.” He was counting on his fingers, mumbling inaudibly as he worked through it. “Seven. Yeah, I would say I can speak seven languages.”

“You can speak seven languages?” I slapped the cart, looking at him in amazement.

What is a guy like him doing working part time in a motorcycle shop?

“I do.” He shrugged, chuckling. “Well, to be fair, I am fluent in some of them, but still iffy on the others. Impressed?”

“Maybe.” I could tell his ego was growing, so I decided to tease him. “But does it really count as seven if five of them are romance languages?”

“Oh!” His brow lifted high, his grin growing. “Listen to you. And what languages would those be?”

“Spanish, French, Portuguese, and English.” I listed, seeing his intrigue build as I spoke. “Those I’ve heard you speak. Italian. Since you told me you spent time in Italy, you’d have to speak it at least somewhat.”

He snorted. “And why are those considered the Romance languages?”

I shook my head. He was testing me, so I entertained him. “Because they stem from Latin.”

Whistling, he confessed. “Now I’m really impressed. Where did you learn all that?”

“Took two years of French in high school, though I can’t actually pronounce anything correctly.” I shrugged, feeling impish. “I think I was the only one who understood what the teacher was saying, even when she started cussing at everyone.”

“You’re just full of surprises, Mallory.” He chuckled, delighted with me.

“So I’ve been told.” I rolled my eyes, moving the conversation along by using his own tagline back at him. “So, what’s happening in Diego’s world?”

“Good question.” He shifted closer, leaning on the wall nearby. “I’ll be in Chicago next week.”

“Oh, Chicago?” My eyes brightened with excitement. “I’ve always wanted to go there and visit the museum. It blows my mind that they only put ten percent on display, while the remaining ninety percent just sits in storage. That’s crazy.”

“Oh, it’s one of my favorite museums. You should come with me.” In that moment, his whole demeanor changed and I stiffened. “I’ll take you there.”

My heart stopped.

Was he serious?

I gave a nervous laugh, “I can’t.”

“Why not?” His eyes bored into mine; it was the first time I’d seen a truly serious expression on his face. “Come with me. Let’s go to Chicago together.”

Is he teasing me? Is this a test?

“I… I…” My mind skipped like a record before I shook free. “I couldn’t possibly afford the plane tickets. Thanks for the invite though.”

Why such as fierce look and tone? He can’t really mean it.

I could feel my heart speeding up with each passing moment. The look he gave me was both confusing and exciting.

Is he trying to say he wants…?

“Don’t worry about the money. I’ll get your ticket; I’ll pay for everything.” His voice was low, and something about his body language seemed cryptic and foreign. “Say yes.”

I couldn’t breathe, is he serious? Am I dreaming. Say yes…

“I’d love to show you around Chicago and take you to the Museum, Mallory. My treat.” He came a little closer and I could only look up at him, confused and bewildered. “Come with me.”

Ha, I must be losing my mind. Diego inviting me on a trip? No, I should say no…

“B-but I have w-work…” I stammered absentmindedly.

“Ditch work.” He took another step closer, his cologne and the heat of his body filling the space between us. “Come to Chicago with me. Please, say yes.”

Say yes… But does he know he’s asking me to throw everything away to be with him? But, I might, I might…

“But I might lose my job…” I had to crane my head up to meet his eyes, “You can’t be serious?”

“I am. If you lose your job, I’ll take care of you.” His fingers were hot as they brushed against my cheek, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Say yes.”

Again, I opened my mouth to refuse, but I had run out of excuses. There was nothing left. He had an answer to everything; he would take care of me. Could I really accept that? Did I even want to? Swallowing, I searched his eyes, now only inches from me. The steel blue gray with flecks of green, silver and even brown looked like a pool of water reflecting fireworks. Deep Down, I was still struggling with an answer, desperately seeking a reason to say no; any reason.

Once more, I attempted to speak, but his lips pressed against mine. All doubts melted away. My hands rose to cup his face and I found myself unable to break the embrace. I wanted this kiss as much as he did. A moment of awareness struck me. I pulled away, face blushing, covering my lips as if I had been bitten by a snake. He gave me a goofy grin.

“We’re at work.” I blurted my thought out loud. “You kissed me! Why? Why me?”

“Say yes. Come with me to Chicago.” He demanded.

My eyes darted around, revealing we were alone; I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or not. “I… I…”

He grabbed my hand, pulling me inside the fitting room with him. The door shut behind him, my back pressed against the wall. He leaned in, our lips meeting. I wanted the kiss; the last had given me a taste, and I wanted more. Here, shielded from ‘prying’ eyes, the last of my barriers were torn away. Our tongues danced with one another before at last I broke away, breathless. Gripping the front of his shirt, I buried my face into his chest. I mumbled, afraid to hear my words out loud.

“Say it again.” He whispered.

I braved looking up, my voice shaken as I answered, “Yes.”

***

The breeze picked up as we climbed the steps to the Chicago Museum. Diego pulled me close, the warmth of his body pressed against mine bringing a blush to my face. He had laughed at the look on my face as we went through the boarding process at the airport. This was all new to me, a world I had longed to be part of and experience. We burst through the doors and I found myself wide-eyed as I took in the artwork.

It was far better than I’d ever imagined. He watched me stare endless at paintings, savoring each brushstroke. Occasionally, I would come back to earth, apologizing and thanking him all at once for bringing me, for spoiling me with this perfect moment. How could I ever repay him? My mind was irrevocably drawn back to the wonders.

“Aren’t you glad you said yes?” He was standing behind me, leaning down wrapping me in his arms.

“I am.” I was lost in a painting by Michelangelo, a painter I never dreamed I’d be able to see firsthand. “This is amazing.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, a text message from Vanessa. I tensed, trying to decide whether I wanted to open it. Diego grabbed the phone, shoving it back into my pocket. He nuzzled my neck, his breath washing over my skin like hot silk. Goosebumps rippled across my skin. A breath escaped my lips as he kissed my neck. His arms tightened around me. I couldn’t escape. I had no fear of being seen. He always waited for a private moment to steal my affection. My heart was racing, my body hot with desire. Another kiss and suckle of his lip sent a shudder through me. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning into it. His lips sucked at my ear, and my breath caught in my throat.

At last a person walked in; he released my earlobe and whispered, singing, “Where everybody leaves so soon, I hope she remembers me, Mallory loves me.”