Page 98 of Mess With Me

“Gloria. I go by Glo, though.”

We shake warmly.

Then Vivian’s voice cuts across the room. “I told you; you don’t like the brown one,” she snaps at the phone. “It makes your neck itch, remember? Put on the yellow one. You’ll feel better.”

Glo and I exchange a glance.

“Who is that?” I ask. I can’t picture Vivian with family members, and I didn’t notice a ring on her finger.

“I have no idea.”

“Ms. Kelly,” Vivian barks. “Come here, please.”

I stand up straight like I’ve been caught passing notes at school. I raise my eyebrows at Gloria but head to the front of the store.

Vivian’s still holding the phone. The screen saysLAU2.

I don’t notice her glaring at me until she clears her throat.

“Oh, uh, don’t you want to hang that up?”

“She’s fine.” She leans in, peering over my shoulder. “Did you come here to shop or about the job?”

“Oh, well, I actually came here about the job, but it looks like you’ve hired someone wonderful. I—”

“She’s terrible. I’ll fire her today if you’d like to start now.”

I gape. “What?” I look over my shoulder, but Glo’s gone to the far side of the store, picking up what she was doing when I came in. I don’t think she can hear us from here. “Why is she terrible?”

Vivian waves a hand vaguely. “I don’t know. Nothing specific.”

I frown. “There’s nothing wrong with her, is there?”

Vivian narrows her eyes. “Do you want the job or not?”

“Not if it means firing her. Is she full time?”

“No.”

“Because I’d only be looking for part time. Maybe we could both help you out.”

Vivian’s nostrils flare. She picks up the phone again, turning around and murmuring something I can’t hear. It sounds suspiciously like she’s consulting with the person on the other end of the line.

After a long pause, she turns around again. “Fine. I’ll take you both if you promise to imbue some style into her.”

“Vivian.” I fold my arms. She knows I don’t need the job, and I know I’ve got the upper hand here. “I’ll join you if you promise to give Glo a chance. Do not just let her go because of ‘vibes.’”

Vivian taps a finger on the glass-top counter. “Fine.”

“And be nice to her.”

“Do you want this job or not?”

I raise an eyebrow.

She grits her perfect little white teeth. “I’ll be civil.”

I smile. “Okay, then. I can start tomorrow.”

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