Supermarket(29)

Frank snagged a banana from produce and began to peel it. “Bro, you’re thinking way too much into this. Just do me this solid and go tell her your friend Frank likes her, okay?”

I was tired of trying to reason with Frank. He wasn’t a reasonable dude. I decided just to get this shit over with and move on with my day. With that, I was on my way.

I reached the break room, and sure enough Rachel was there. Only this time, she was not accompanied by Becca. She was completely alone.

“Hey,” I said to her.

“Hey . . . Flynn,” she said in a tone that said she didn’t give two shits about engaging in a conversation with me. She was reading Cosmopolitan, her lips red as ever and hair darker than Frank’s sense of humor.

“Look, a buddy of mine wanted me to tell you he likes you.”

Her face was hidden by the magazine. 26 SEX TIPS THAT WILL BRING HIM TO THE EDGE was printed in bold on the corner of the cover.

She lowered the magazine, revealing dark eyes beneath her bangs.

“Oh, you have a friend, huh?” she said as she set the magazine down. Her mouth curled into a smile. She stood up and walked over to me. She was close, almost too close. Even in her dorky store uniform she looked fine as hell.

“Yeah, my buddy. His name is Frank.” She stared at me, puzzled.

“Oh . . . okay,” she said, seeming a little let down.

“Yeah, he works in the store,” I said.

“Do you guys spend a lot of time together?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah. Well, at work, anyway.”

“So this Frank . . . how old is he?”

I thought for a moment. “About my age,” I said, grabbing a paper cup on top of the water cooler. “Look, either way, he wanted me to tell you that he’s into you and you guys should hang out sometime. Maybe grab a bite.”

Rachel bit her lip.

“Fuck it . . . why not?” she said. She ripped part of a page from her magazine and scribbled down her number. She put her hand on my elbow, and looked up at my face, surveying my features.

“You have pretty eyes, Flynn. You look like a tortured artist,” she said.

“Uhmm, thank you?” I said.

“Tell him to call me,” she said, handing me the scrap of paper.

Then she walked out of the room.

I looked at the number and put it in my right pocket. I couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed that I just did Frank’s job for him. But I was also a little turned on by the whole encounter. Just then, Mia walked into the break room.

“There’s my boy,” she said with a smile.

“Hey!” I said, feeling guilty for having another woman’s number in my pocket, even though it was for Frank. How will I explain this to her if she finds out? I thought. Anything I said would sound like total bullshit.

“What were you and Rachel talking about?” she asked.

“What? Who?” I said. She looked at me suspiciously.

“Rachel the cashier. She just left the room smiling. What were you two talking about?” Oh, shit, I thought to myself. When she walked in the room it was all peaches, except for me acting as though nothing had just happened between Rachel and me. My posturing had unintended consequences. Now Mia was thinking something was in fact happening. Maybe I should just tell her about the whole thing.

What are you, fucking stupid? Frank’s voice said in my head, like some funny angel and devil scenario. She’s gonna call bullshit immediately!

The voice was right, but I didn’t want to lie to her.

“Flynn!” Mia said, a confused smile on her face.

“Sorry, baby . . . I was literally here daydreaming. Now that I think about it, Rachel was trying to say hello or something, but I didn’t even notice. She must have been laughing it off on her way out.”

Mia looked at me, and I felt horrible for lying. But it wasn’t like I did anything wrong.

And just like that, she let it go.

“Listen, I had such a blast with you last night!” she said. “I was thinking, maybe round two tonight?”

I knew I should work on my book. But at the same time, so much had been going on that I felt I deserved another night to myself.

“Okay! That sounds like fun.”

“It’s settled, then. I’ll see you soon!” she said, departing with a kiss to my cheek.





CHAPTER 8


DISAPPEARING DOG


It had been a crazy few days. My anxiety had been ebbing and flowing. I was falling hard for Mia, and trying to embrace that beautiful feeling. But I wasn’t getting anywhere with my novel. I still couldn’t figure out how to end the book with a bang, which was nagging at me. It’s always something. Frank was being Frank. A burden, a friend. I couldn’t quite tell which. The Lola run-in fucked me up, but Mia saved the day and kept me from unraveling into what would have surely been a full-blown panic attack, or worse yet, a spell of derealization.

Things at Muldoon’s were fine. I finally felt like I had my bearings straight. I’d spent enough time in each department to have the lay of the land. I wasn’t making as many mistakes. Today I was in the refrigerated section, taking care of inventory. Shit was cold in there. I was rocking earmuffs, a scarf, and gloves. It was the section behind the glass when you reach in for your fancy-ass almond milk. Or oat milk. Or cashew milk. Or hemp milk. There were more foo-foo milks these days than I could count. What happened to the classic cow shit?