Page 4 of Veiled in Brick

Luke’s finger was now directed to Claire, tapping on her bare sternum right above the edge of her tank top.

“That,” he told her, “does not mean that I owe you shit, love.”

She began to argue, “You said—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Luke held his finger to her lips now, silencing her as she rolled her eyes so hard that I wondered if they would fall out of her head. “Particulars are not to be discussed in public, baby. You know the rules.”

Claire bit the pad of his finger softly and Luke yelped, clasping his hand as if she had gravely wounded him. His mock offense lasted for only a split second, immediately being replaced with an adoring gaze that could melt paint off a wall as he whispered what appeared to be, ‘Feisty.’

Claire chewed on the inside of her cheek, her smile that was attempting to be withheld creeping to her lips until her teeth were beginning to blind me. She turned to James and me.

“The particulars are not to be discussed in public,” she announced wryly.

James chuckled, clearly enjoying their back and forth, and asked me, “When are you free?”

“Did you have to do thisnow,Zo’?”

Liam was watching me with tired eyes as I paced through my place of employment, Zest. It was five minutes past closing time on a Friday, and because we had discussed grabbing a drink at Henry’s after my shift was over, he was waiting—none too patiently, might I add—at the front door. We had one hour between now and when James was to pick me up from the bar for our outing, and I had yet to find something to wear for the occasion. Background music having been turned off for the night, my steps echoed along the black and white marbled tile as I perused the boutique.

“Well, I couldn’t shop while Brenda was here,” I argued. “She would have asked me what the occasion was and…”

He laughed softly. “Yeah, Bee would have been all over that.”

Brenda was another one of the employees at Zest. Being the owner Noelle’s younger sister, she was scheduled nearly as often as I was, and though I desperately tried to keep my private life private, she had a way of weaseling her way into my mind. In her mid-forties, a single mother with two young children, she was constantly on the lookout for any gossip to speak of. If she were anyone else, I would have told her to fuck off long,longago, but for whatever reason, Brenda had quickly become an exception to the rule regarding divulging details of my private life. I never gave her any information of importance, of course, as I did that for very few people, but I simply allowed her to question what she felt she needed to.

Liam knew of Brenda’s interrogating ways—in fact, he had personally witnessed it on many occasions when he would meet me after my shift was over. It was no secret to Brenda that I was, as she put it,‘single as a pringle,’and, at Liam’s frequent appearance, she got to questioning my relationship status. I shot her inquiries down fairly quickly. Not in my typicalfuck that noiseattitude—this was a work environment, after all—but, regardless, I inevitably got my point across. Her interrogation regarding the, in her words,‘hunky, tall glass of water with the blonde hair,’ended almost as soon as it had begun, but her vaguely lewd commentary on Liam’s attractive looks remained.

Entertaining as that commentary was, Brenda was not here to make it, which was why my steps were tapping across the tile at an alarming rate.

“Can’t you just wear what ya have on?” Liam whined. I halted my steps, glanced at him disbelievingly, and he muttered questioningly, “Or not?”

“It’s adate,Lee, I can’t just wearthis.”

“What’s the problem with what you’re wearing now?” he asked. “You look fine.”

“I lookfine?”

Liam shrugged. “Brown’s a good color.”

I looked down to observe my outfit—the t-shirt dress fell just below my upper thigh, the chocolate color of it offsetting the pallor of my skin that I had yet to tan in the new summer sun.

“It’s basically an oversized shirt, Liam, I need to look nicer thanthis.”

“What do youcare,Zoey?” he questioned as he rocked back on his heels. “You could wear a paper bag; James isn’t gonna give a shit.”

“Okay, well,Igive a shit.”

“Why?” He chuckled. “You like him? Are ya goin’ soft on me?”

“I justwant-to-fucking-look-nice,Liam!”

As I glared at him, he pressed his lips together in a fine line. I exhaled a breath sharply through my nostrils, turned to face the rack that I stood closest to, and picked up a red dress. I held the black, wrought iron hanger up to my shoulders, displaying it on my body. The fabric had impressions of leaves adorning its entirety. What was supposed to be rather short would have been a knee-length skirt for a girl of my short stature, and the neckline was delightfully provocative—holding up the plunging décolletage were two spaghetti-thin straps that split into four separate strings along the back. With my blonde hair being cropped so short that I had little need to even tuck it behind my ears, the dress would leave my back almost completely bare. I smiled as I considered it further, holding it out at an arm’s length.

“Little too much tit, don’t ya think?” Liam voiced.

I sighed and draped the dress over my arm, saying, “That’skindathe point.” He grumbled in response, and I retorted, “Okay, what wouldyouchoose?”

“For myself?” he returned with a broad grin that elongated his many freckles. “A short skirt that shows off my ass, thanks for asking.”

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