Training Amy (4 page)

            “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “My first day of work and you two have already been dragged into my man-drama.”

            “Don’t worry about it. We all have drama. Admittedly there’s more of it at your age than ours, but we understood that when we hired you, too,” he gave her another reassuring smile. “You did the right thing though. You kicked him to the curb, declared your independence from the drama, and joined the rest of us in the adult world. Life is too short to waste your time on people who aren’t on your side and who don’t care about you. I mean, look at the guy. The minute he knew you weren’t going home with him, he kicked you out of the car. That’s a self-serving-son-of-a-bitch right there.”

            “You’re not making me feel any better, Eric.” She heard some talking in the hallway as Brad and Gary came back out.

            Gary was now carrying a plain brown bag with something in it. He had intimidating eyes. Much like Brad and Eric both did when they’d stared her down during her interview. She looked down as he passed. “This is Amy then?”

            Brad nodded. “Yes, this is Amy. Amy, this is Gary, he’s one of our private collectors.”

            Gary held out a hand.

            She took it and made sure to give him a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Gary.” 

            He seemed very amused and looked her up and down with narrowed eyes.  “Likewise, Amy. I’ll see you all later.”

            Once Gary was gone, Eric left to pick up his friend and Brad checked all the doors again and they left the store out the back and set the alarm. He led her to a black SUV, unlocked the passenger door and opened it for her. When she was in he closed the door.

            She watched him walk around to the driver’s side. He got in, pausing to put on his seatbelt.     

            “Did Eric tell you we don’t want you waiting for the bus at night around here? It’s not safe. I’m going to have to insist we’ll have to take you home at night unless you can get a friend or family member to pick you up,” Brad said in that practical tone he seemed to use often.

            “He did,” she said. “He said my house is on you guys’ way home anyway.”

            Nodding he said, “Good, I’m glad you’re not protesting.”

            There was no way she was protesting. She suspected it wouldn’t work anyway. Noticing an uncomfortable silence, since she and Brad didn’t seem to share the same rapport as she and Eric did, she took the opportunity to change the subject. “So that Gary guy, you all go to the same gym or something?”

            Brad actually smiled. “Well yes, something like that.”

            She refrained from looking too pleased with herself. The fact that she’d pegged them did give her a boost of confidence to keep the conversation going. “Do a lot of gym-going guys actually read?”

            Shrugging, he turned onto one of the main streets and headed north. “I don’t know about that. But a lot of my
friends
do.”

            If there was a conversational roadblock, she’d just hit it, or created it. She wasn’t sure which. “So Eric is bringing me in some books to borrow. Something about a
Story of O
and
The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty
by Anne Rice or something. What do you think of them? Are there vampires in the Anne Rice one? Because I am so tired of vampire books and movies and TV shows.” She realized she was rambling so she shut up.

            He let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head. “That’s Eric for you. Right to the point.”

            Not knowing what to say, she merely gave him a quizzical look.

            Noticing this he said, “I’m pretty sure you probably would
not
like those books.”

            “Why do you say that?”

            Brad let out something that sounded like a muffled laugh and mutter at the same time. “They’re erotic books.”

            “Yeah, erotic romance,” she clarified.

            “No.” His tone was sharp and direct. “Not exactly. You’ll see.”

            She decided to change the subject. “Thanks for taking me home. I’ll talk to my mom and my friends and see if they can pick me up most nights.”

            “It’s really not a problem at all. We’re almost there,” he pointed out.

            He wasn’t lying, a few more turns and they’d be there. That’s when it occurred to her she hadn’t given him an address. “You want to take a right up here.”

            “Yeah, I know. Navigation system,” he said pointing to the display on the dash. It had been turned toward him so she hadn’t really paid much attention.  “I plugged in your address earlier because I thought I was taking you home before your friend showed up.”

            A slow smile spread across her face. He really was one of
those
types. Brad was the kind of guy who was meticulous and took care of everything.

           
When they finally pulled up in the front of Amy's, she looked around for the familiar black Chrysler her now ex drove. It was nowhere to be seen. She breathed an audible sigh of relief.

            "We'll see you tomorrow at one," Brad said simply, all business again.

            She nodded and gave him a shy smile, looking away quickly when his eyes met hers, "Thank you for driving me home." 

            She didn't notice the pleased grin that fell over his face. Instead, she practically ran to the front door. Something about the way Brad was, just his demeanor, intimidated the hell out of her. He waited until she got in the door before driving away.

Chapter Three

            Amy poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe and sat at the register. She’d been working at
By the Book
for two weeks now and she loved it. Eric and Brad were great bosses and always good for interesting conversation. They’d even indulged her and discussed business ethics at great length the day before. Today she was tired, and why not? After getting home last night she'd read forty pages and written part of an essay for her business ethics class, hence the previous day’s conversation. Then she'd had class that morning.

            Brad was fixing a window display and talking to some women about the latest stream of political books coming out of the most recent presidential administration.

            Eric emerged from the back with a box of books. Plopping it on the floor he expertly pulled out a box cutter and had the box open in a few slices. He began piling them on the counter. "Help me sort these into stacks by genre. This is our small press and indie order."

            Thumbing through the books she started stacks for fantasy and science fiction, romance, horror, and mystery. Stacking them neatly with spines facing her she caught Eric snickering out of the corner of her eye. "What?"

            "You're a compulsive neat freak, aren't you?" He snickered again.

            "Am not," she protested with a mock pout.

            "I bet if I sent you into the stacks right now, in about an hour those shelves would be the neatest and straightest they've been since we opened this place," he said with a wide grin.

            She gave him a playful smirk and swatted at him with a thriller novel called
Outer Darkness
by some obscure author named Audrey Brice.  

            He laughed.

            Grabbing
Blood of the Dark Moon
by Adrianne Brennan she quickly realized some of the novels were cross genre. "Horror or romance?"

            "Paranormal romance," he said quickly, then moved
Outer Darkness
from the horror pile into its own, "Paranormal mystery."

            She moved them both into one pile. "How about we just say paranormal?"

            He shrugged. "I suppose, but you'll have to separate them on the shelf because that's how Brad has the shelves labeled."

            "How do you know anyway? Have you even heard of any of these authors?" She grabbed three more from the to-be-sorted stack. "I mean who's Selena Kitt? And I've never heard of Gail Cleare either. Bernadette Marie?"

            "The first one is erotica, very popular actually, and Cleare is contemporary magic realism slash romance, and the latter is romance," he said, emptying the box. "I know this because some of it I've read, others Brad and I know the authors, and really a lot of it is popular underground stuff."

             Finishing the sort took a few more minutes with Eric's help. Then she sorted them by author last name. "So should I start putting these on the shelves?"

            "In a minute. Here, take these home tonight. They're the books I was telling you about when you started. I almost forgot them." He handed her three paperbacks.

            "Oh, thanks!"  Without really looking at them took them she tucked them away in her bag and got back to the register in time to help a customer check out.

            She loved finding time to chat with Eric. To say she had a crush would have been an understatement. Once the customer was gone they sat quietly for a few minutes. She realized Eric was looking at her arms.

            "What are those scars on your arms?" he finally asked.

            Wondering how long he’d been wanting to ask that, Amy pulled her arms behind her back. "Nothing really."

            “That’s not nothing.” Eric caught her arm with his hand, inspecting the small half-moon shaped scars that lined her forearms.

She was uncomfortable. She never expected she'd have to explain them to anyone. Of course that was a long time ago. She hadn't hurt herself in years, but then she hadn't needed to cry for some time anyway. She was a stronger person now.

            He gently ran his fingers over her scars. He wasn't stupid, he knew exactly what they were from. "So why were you digging your nails into your arm?"

            She chewed at her lip, marveling at how good his touch felt. Focusing she said, "Growing up I was never allowed to cry. My parents weren't the most sympathetic people in the world. They're still not." She shrugged as if it wasn't a big thing. "So it kind of got to a point where I didn't cry because I'd get yelled at for it. I don't know, maybe I forgot how or something. Then when I was a teenager I had so many bottled up emotions that I'd go numb for days and feel like I was drowning inside myself and the only way to stop it was to dig my nails into my arms until I drew blood. The pain - it would help me cry and let it out. I used a razor blade on my leg a few times, but my mom caught me and sent me to a shrink. I went to him for about two years. I'm past that now."

            Eric was quiet for a minute. "Sorry if that was an uncomfortable memory. But that explains some things. So what do you do now?"

            "I don't cry. But then I don't need to cry," she told him, not exactly sure what he mean by the 'that explains some things' comment. She decided not to ask.

            A deep look of concern passed over his face. "What if something really bad happens and you need to cry? Like someone you love dies? Do Brad and I need to be concerned you'll hurt yourself?"

            The thought hadn't occurred to her in some time. What would she do if she needed to cry? Would she hurt herself? She looked into the darkness within and shuddered. She knew what she would do, but she wasn't telling him.

            "Amy? I asked you a question. Do you ever want to hurt yourself?" Eric took a step toward her.

            "I'm not a weak person like that anymore," she said simply, forcing a smile. She took a step away from him.  "I wouldn't hurt myself."

            The statement sounded hollow, even to her. Not to mention Eric looked entirely unconvinced. He knew she was hiding something dark and she wondered how long she'd be able to keep it a secret working here. Brad and Eric always seemed to find ways to get her to open up and relax around them. Sooner or later they’d both figure out there was something really wrong with her. Thank goodness a customer stepped up to the register.

            Eric dropped it. He disappeared into the back. Brad came up to the counter, leaning on it. He looked at his watch.

            "Bored?" She kind of laughed. She'd never seen the boss look at his watch before. "Or a hot date?"

            He smiled. "Unfortunately bored."

            She decided to be bold. "So you and Eric are both single?"

            Turning to her, a small smile played on his lips, but vanished. "Yeah."

            He really wasn't giving her anything to work with, like usual.  "I just find that hard to believe."

            "Why?"

            "Well, you're both reasonably attractive. Nothing really wrong with either of you or am I missing something?"

            He chuckled. "It's not like I don't date on occasion. I'm just picky."

            "And Eric?"

            Brad lifted an eyebrow. "You interested?"

            She blushed. "I'm just curious why he's single."

            "You're single."

            A deep sigh emerged from her lips. "Well yeah, now I am. But I was in a relationship with a jerk up until recently if you remember."

            Brad nodded as if to say she had a point. "Eric doesn't really date that often. It's taken him some time to get over his ex. He doesn't want to make that mistake again."

            "Let me guess, left him for another man?"

            "Not exactly," Brad said. "They were both in the same relationship, but their perception of that relationship was different. Eric was in it for the long haul and Em was just having a good time and using Eric for everything he was worth."

            "Ah, he was more serious than she was?"

            "Pretty much," Brad shrugged. "It wasn't meant to be. So as a result you'll find Eric has high standards for the women he dates. He's only been out with a couple of women since then and it was only dinner and a movie and he never saw them again. I think he's become an apt bullshit detector in his old age."

            She laughed. "Like how old? You're both like early thirties or something?"

            A huge grin spread over Brad's face. "Thank you. That's one hell of a compliment. I'm forty-two. Eric's thirty-eight."

            Giving him her best look of disbelief she said, "You're pulling my chain."

            "Wouldn't that be somethin'?" He gave her a smile. Just then a customer approached him, pulling his attention away from the Amy.

Once Eric came up from the back, he took the register and she spent the rest of the day restocking books and straightening shelves. A lot of customers didn't bother putting books back exactly where they found them, which she found somewhat annoying. Especially when they left the baby care books in the horror novels, which was amusing, but still annoying. By the time five o'clock rolled around she was starving.

            "Amy," Brad called out from his desk in his gruff drill sergeant voice.

            She jumped, dropping two of the magazines from the stack she had. Setting them down she hurried over to the corner. "Yes Sir?"

            His expression softened and his eyes seemed to light up a little when he saw her. "We're getting delivery take-out from the deli for dinner. What do you want?"

            Out of the corner of her eye she caught Eric give Brad a certain look. She wasn't quite sure what the look was, but it was knowing; as if they shared some secret or conversation about her. They’d been doing it since she started and it kind of bothered her. She told him what she wanted then went back to work. While they ate a few customers came through and the conversation changed to sports and she tuned it out, concentrating instead on how nice the store was looking.

            That's when
she
walked in. The woman was decked out in black latex pants and patent leather spiked heels and if her cleavage had been any more ample it would have fallen out of her tight black blouse. She had long slicked back auburn hair pulled tight into a pony tail, red lipstick to match her perfect red nails and she was wearing dark sunglasses despite the fact that it was already dark. Some eighties tune, she didn’t recall who sang it since it was before her time, about wearing sunglasses at night ran through her mind. Focusing, she regained control over her expression.

            The woman, who oozed a great deal of confidence, breezed to the counter and only regarded Amy with a brief glance. "Hello, Brad, dear."

            "Kali," he greeted.

            Amy almost rolled her eyes, but stopped herself. It figured the dragon lady would go by a name like Kali.
Wasn't that a Hindu goddess of destruction?
She wondered. She'd have to look it up online later.  

            The woman let herself back behind the counter and gave Eric a wordless hug. "So do you have my full order?"

            "I left you a message saying I did," Brad said, still cool and composed.  He got up. "It's in the back. Should be enough room for you to try it all out."

            She pouted. "Too bad I didn't bring Mike. Any takers?"