Page 28 of Afternoon Delight
“Themed.” Roddie was still slack-jawed, but the corners of his mouth were twitching.
“It’s like selling cans of soup,” I insisted. “Nothing to get excited about.”
“I think the point is to get excited, but what do I know?” He shovelled more noodles into his smirking mouth. “I’m just a kid.”
“I know this is unexpected.” Understatement of the year. “But could you keep it to yourself for a few days and not tell your sister? Or your father?” Or anyone?
“I don’t know. When your mom comes out as a dungeon master, you kind of want to tell your friends. But since I don’t have any...” He glowered at his plate.
“I appreciate your discretion. Finish up and get to bed. I have a big day tomorrow, and you have class.”
Chapter 14
Meg
Shelby:
You quit your job to sell sex toys?
My daughter’s text arrived as I was opening the store the next morning.
“Really, Roddie?” I muttered under my breath.
Yes.
I’m busy doing that right now.
Long day today. I’ll call tomorrow.
Then I texted Roddie before I finished my opening routine.
Tattletale.
It didn’t really bother me that he’d ratted me out. I was glad my kids were close enough to share secrets with each other. I had always wanted a sibling and had worried I’d waited too long between my own children. Shelby had been starting kindergarten before we began trying for another baby. It hadn’t happened right away, which added even more space between them.
Still, both of my kids now knew I had quit my job. I would’ve preferred to have a broader plan in place so I didn’t come across as unhinged by my recent divorce, but so be it.
The door jangled. Zak poked his head in. “I’m going for coffee. Want anything?”
“Sure. Thanks. Whatever their drip of the day is, with a splash of cream.” I would be vibrating, but I had a lot to do today.
“You don’t want something fancy? Pumpkin-spiced latte or whatever?”
“I do not want that, and if you ever buy me one of those, I will marry you purely so I can divorce you and take all your money as punishment for not knowing how disgusting that is.”
“Yes to pumpkin spice. Got it.” The door jangled again as he left.
I watched him stride across the road without using the crosswalk, shoulders hunched in his blue puffer jacket, hair tousled by the wind.
Nutbar.
A customer came in, one I privately classified as ‘covert.’ His jacket was zipped to his chin, and he wore a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. He moved with stiff purpose, grabbing a butt plug and some lube, bringing them straight to the cash desk and setting them down with the kind of bravado every woman used to buy tampons until she stopped giving a flying fuck that the cashier knew her uterus was shedding.
“Good morning. I can give you five percent off with today’s coupon.” I flashed it at him. “It’s our relaunch today.”
“Oh. Great.” His wall of defensiveness crumbled. He broke into a wide smile. “Thanks. You don’t have to bag it. I’m in a hurry.”
“Sure.” I rang it through. He shoved the items into his jacket pockets as he left.
