Page 38 of Protect Me
“I’m thinking about it.”
“We need some part-time help.” With an arched eyebrow, he gestured to my knee. “Doesn’t really look like you’re up for that just yet.”
“I will be in three weeks. Brace comes off next week.”
Daniel hummed under his breath. “Just need some more hands over the summer to run the place. Mostly fill-in work on the register.” He waved a vague hand over piles of clothes and gear. “That sort of thing.”
I blinked. “Any lifting?”
“Not really. Just counter stuff. Iesha can get the rest, she likes to do stocking and inventory.”
“If you can wait three weeks, I’ll take it.”
“Great.” He slapped the glass countertop. “It’s yours.”
I laughed. “You don’t want to interview me or something?”
He canted an eyebrow. “Do I need to?”
“Not as far as I’m concerned.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. “I’ve known you your whole life. Your father and I fished together for a decade before they moved. I trust you, Vik. Plus, this store isn’t that hard to run, and you’re a smart guy.” He straightened. “No alcohol, no drugs.”
I held up two hands.
“Sober for three months now.”
A swift nod followed.
While working at the Outfitters wasn’t my number one job of choice, it was simple, got me out of my place, and involved the outdoors. In other words—a step forward. After wallowing for too many months, I needed a win.
Desperately.
The discount on gear would be welcome, not to mention the contact with great guides, and a little money coming in. Proximity to Kate was the sugar syrup on the gulab jamun, so to speak.
“When do you want me to start?” I asked.
“I’ll call you a week before. We’re transitioning a few other people out, anyway. Three weeks should work.”
A bell on the door clanged, admitting a stooped male with dingy blonde hair. He gave a surly chin lift and wound his way through a few clothing racks. Something about him seemed familiar. A kid from high school, probably.
Daniel tilted his head to the side, gaze tapered on the man.
“Interesting.”
“You know him?” I asked, rooting in my pocket for my car keys.
“Timothy Hanover. Just got released from prison, I hear.”
“Huh.”
Daniel shook his head, voice low. “Tough family life growing up. Things went bad for him five years ago, I hear, and he went to jail. Parents died while he was in there, too. Didn’t know he’d gotten out. Anyway, see you in the morning.”
Daniel slapped my back and stepped into the store. Relieved to have an excuse to get out of my apartment, and eyeballing a new standup paddle board along the far wall, I escaped the Outfitters.
Time to visit Katelyn.
ChapterEleven
