Page 120 of Mess With Me

The woman explains it’s in the administrative office of the hospital. Glo stands up and smiles encouragingly, and we come to learn it’s the woman’s first big office job. She just finished her office administration training at Greenville College. She shifts, and it’s then I notice a fast-food uniform under her coat. “I don’t have much time,” she says. “I have to pick my son up at school soon, but I thought maybe I could try something on and, um, put some money down for it? Do you…have layaway? My interview is next week, but I could pay you after—”

“No,” Vivian says. I hadn’t noticed her coming up behind us. “We don’t dolayawayhere, and certainly not after a customer leaves the shop with our clothing. You can’t leave the store without paying for items in full.”

“Vivian,” Glo says. Her anger’s showing. “We can let her try something on.”

“Are you joking?” Vivian sniffs. “Our blouses cost more than this girl is paid in a month at Burger Barn or whatever place whose employ she’s in.”

The girl’s eyes have gone wide, and I can see her swallowing hard, her eyes rimmed red. She’s holding back tears.

Nowmyanger flares, all charitable thoughts about my boss from a moment ago vanished. “Glo, why don’t you and—what’s your name, honey?”

“Melissa,” the woman squeaks.

“Why don’t you and Melissa check out theGoing Soonrack?” The fall clothes are on sale, though the discount only brings them down from atrocious to insulting.

Glo nods, immediately understanding what I’m about to do. “Come on, Melissa. I bet we can find something amazing over here.”

“Excuse me,” Vivian says, but I hook my arm through hers like we’re going for a stroll.

“Come with me a minute,” I say, tugging her none too gently in the opposite direction.

I’ve surprised her enough that she claps her mouth shut and comes with me to the front desk, far away fromGoing Soon.

“Vivian,” I whisper once I’ve tugged her behind it. “What do you have against someone trying on clothes—someone who could use a little confidence boost?”

“She’s never going to buy anything from this store. Don’t you know that? I thought you were a smart girl.”

“Right. That’s why you hired me, right? You think I’m smart?”

“Not anymore, I don’t.”

I fold my arms. “Tell me why you like me so much, Vivian.”

She huffs, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t like you right now.”

“Tell me.”

She lets out a breath. “This is ridiculous. But fine. You speak your mind.”

“And?”

She lifts her chin and presses her lips together, which I know means she’s got an answer.

“I think you like me because I’m not afraid of you.”

Vivian looks indignant. But I see the way she won’t meet my eyes. I’m right.

“Listen,” I say. “I’ve known plenty of nasty women in my life”—Vivian’s eyes grow wide—“And you’re not one of them.”

Now her brows furrow in confusion.

“You act like you’re all mean and tough, but I know you’ve got a sweet, soft heart in there.” I point to her chest. “Not many can see past those walls you’ve put up, but I can. I know you’re hiding because it’s safer if people don’t see you. It’s better if they don’t see how hard it is for you, how much you give. Because if they did, you’d see it, too, and you might just collapse under the weight of it all.”

The words come out so clearly I know I’ve been thinking them about someone else, too. Someone who acts like he doesn’t care about anything but cares more about people than anyone I’ve ever known.

“Now. Why did you open this store?”

She juts out her chin once more.

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