fuck?” Zoey stepped around Dawson, glaring at her windowpane. “Why does this keep happing to me?”
She fisted her hair, pulling on her red locks. Dawson pressed his hand into her back. “Let’s call the cops.” He guided her to the curb and helped her sit down. Zoey could hear him on the phone with dispatch, her mind reeling over the new damage.
“Hey,” Dawson sat down beside her. “The police are on their way.”
Unspilled tears glistened in her eyes. “I just don’t get it, Dawson. Who is doing this?”
Swiping at a lone tear that slipped out with his thumb, Dawson pressed a quick kiss to her head as he pulled her close. “I don’t know. Could there be anyone mad at you?”
“Hell, I’m someone who keeps to herself. Maybe the girl who came in pissed off I stole her spot did this. I just don’t know.” She pressed her face into his side and sighed.
“What girl?”
“I don’t know her name. She came in the day before I opened and told me I should just close shop. That no one wanted a fat girl shop.”
“We’ll tell the cops. Let them check into it. Maybe you should stay with me tonight…” Dawson looked over his shoulder at the paint-splattered sidewalk.
“No way. No one is running me out of my home. Plus, I thought you were just going to stay here.”
Dawson squeezed her against him. “True.”
The police arrived and took her statement and photographs of the message in red. They told her she was clear to wash it off and would be in touch with her later in the week.
“Well, this isn’t how I wanted to end our date.”
“What do you mean?” Dawson helped her stand.
“Cleaning off my shop window. This sucks.” Dawson followed her inside and helped her gather a bucket and supplies. Zoey filled the container with soapy water and grabbed a few extra towels.
Dawson took the bucket from her hands. “I don’t know. Getting you all sudsy sounds sexy.”
Zoey laughed, “Really? Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Maybe I should change.” She glanced down at her dress.
“No… please don’t. The thought of peeling that off wet is already getting me hard.”
Dawson began scrubbing the glass, the red paint running down into the street. Zoey moved alongside him, wiping and cleaning the hate speech spewed across the clear glass.
“I hate I’m ruining the sidewalk.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call the station in the morning and get them to hose it down.”
“They’ll do that?”
Dawson laughed. “For me? Of course.”
Soon, the window was clean. The sidewalk, on the other hand, looked like a small pig had been slaughtered. “Well… I guess I can’t do anything about the pavement tonight. You ready to go upstairs?” Zoey looked over at Dawson as she tossed the sponge into the bucket.
“Thought you’d never ask.” Dawson gathered all the cleaning supplies and carried them around back.
Zoey let them in through the back door, pointing to the corner. “You can set that there. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.” She pulled the door closed and clicked the lock in place. She double-checked the shop door, making sure it was locked tight, and headed up the stairs. “You coming?” She glanced at Dawson, still standing at the base of the steps.
Dawson snapped out of his trance and hurried up the stairs behind her. Zoey pushed through the door with Dawson hot on her tail.
He grabbed her, spinning her body against the door as it shut. He pressed his body into hers, his lips sizzling against her mouth. Zoey grabbed his shirt, tugging him towards her.
“I’m all wet. I should get out of this dress.” She whispered into his lips.
“I should help you.”