Page 37 of Every Chance After

“I’m not a cashier.” I wince at the rough road, suddenly jiggling my guts like cranberry sauce during an earthquake. “I’m the customer service manager, the youngest Sunny’s has ever had, and Iabsolutely lovemy job.”

He smirks, cutting a glance at me like I’ve told a joke. “Seriously?”

“As serious as a stab wound,” I giggle weakly, but he’s not amused. “Don’t you love yours?”

His broad shoulders shrug. “I like the animals well enough. Could do without the people.”

I laugh. “Somehow, I thought you’d say something like that. My jobispeople. Hiring them. Scheduling them. Making sure the front end runs smoothly so customers feel welcome and can get in and out. And handling all customer needs?—”

“Sounds horrible,” he breathes, looking anxious as he drives well below the posted speed limit.

“I love making customers feel like family at Sunny’s. Not everyone has a family, you know?”

“I’ve never felt like family in Sunny’s.”

I give him a curious stare. “Howdoyou feel there?”

He groans, his knuckles twisting on the wheel. “Like a victim, assaulted by pretentiousness and high prices.”

“Oomph, you’re one tough cookie, Tripp Grady Tripp.”

“A box of mac-n-cheese shouldn’t cost five bucks, and no one in Seagrove needs a ten-dollar box of macaroons or a fifty-dollar jar of saffron.”

“It’sorganicmac-n-cheese. Some people buy those items all the time. What’s wrong with a grocery store with pizazz?”

“Right, pizazz that pads the Sullivans’ pockets. It’s a tourist trap that pretends to be a grocery store. No locals would shop there if the nearest Food Lion weren’t twenty miles away.”

I nod. “Being the only game in town does work to Sunny’s advantage. But it’s a happy place that people enjoy, too.Mostpeople.”

“If you say so.”

Another laugh escapes me. “You’re what I call a customer service challenge, but one I welcome. I almost won you over. Don’t you remember?”

His brow pinches until a light flickers in his memory. “Shit, right. I remember.”

I smile. “Tell the truth. You still have your complimentary Sunny’s keychain, don’t you?”

He groans. “Only because the sun is a bottle opener.”

I laugh. “I knew you’d keep it. You’re practical and willing to fight for a bargain. I appreciate that.”

His fingers relax on the steering wheel, like he needs his hands to talk. “If you’re going to advertise a buy one, get one, then buying only one steak should mean it’s half price.”

“Except when the sign says youmustbuy two to get the deal.” A shiver runs through me, remembering his angry words through gritted teeth when I made the same argument.That’s bullshit. I want a manager.And then, the disbelieving look he gave me when I said that was me. In his defense, I present young with my freckles and pale skin, especially at work when sporting a ponytail.

“Sorry if I was… gruff,” he says.

It’s a surprise to hear him apologize and admit it.Niceisn’t his go-to behavior. Once, I passed him on the street while he gruffly told a man with a poodle to“Make an appointment.”Another time, at the pharmacy, I overheard him arguing with his mom, Carmela, over dropping off something to his brother.“Mom, I’m not the Tripp family delivery boy,”he said before taking the bag anyway and storming down the aisle.

“You were a little lamb,” I chuckle, not wanting to make him feel worse. “And not the first or last to complain. I was happy to give you the deal… Between us, I don’t like that sale either. It puts me on defense. It’s hard delivering my excellent customer service when the customer’s already pissed off.”

He cuts me a surprised look. “Hm, Marina cusses?”

A light shrug makes me wince. We climb the bridge over the Cape Fear River, the gentle thumps underneath us creating a constant ache in my belly. Tears pool in my eyes, anxious for the bridge to be over despite how much I love ogling the battleship, the choppy waves, and the quaint downtown.

“Need a break?” he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle. “We could stop on the other side. Get something to eat if you’re hungry.”

My head shakes before he finishes talking. “I just want to get home... Sorry if that sounds weepy.”

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