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I know my flowers decently enough, but there are a couple I’m unsure of. I make my way through, pulling individual stems towards my face to smell them all. I’m going to have a headache by the end, I’m sure.

When I get to the larger blooms in the center I step back with a smile on my face. I’m sure Kara didn’t know. She probably couldn’t tell the difference between a peony and a rose, let alone anything else. But the dahlia’s are obviously my favorite.

I pluck two of them from the bunch to stick them in a smaller vase for Dahlia’s room. It’s so perfectly fitting.

Note to self to get the name of this florist so I can do it some other time.

Speaking of notes, I completely overlooked the fact that there’s one sticking out from underneath the vase. My chest tightens at the memory of all of the aggressive little notes we used to write each other.

Spending the day with my dad, so hopefully I’ll see you later tonight. Have a good day at work, gorgeous.

I fly through my store, wheeling a rack that resides in our dressing room. One that I think is a little pointless, considering most of what we carry are t-shirts and jewelry. No one is allowed to try on the jewelry, and t-shirts are a pretty simple thing to know your size in.

It might just be me, and the fact that I’ve always just grabbed whatever size is the biggest. There is no such thing as a shirt that’s too big for me, especially because honestly—I have pretty big boobs. Who knows what size I’d be without them, but they limit a lot of what I can wear.

The t-shirt I’m currently wearing is three sizes too big, and almost reaches my knees. That fact comes in handy when I don’t want to wear pants, because we’re technically not supposed to wear leggings. No one can say a word as long as my butt is covered, so covered it is.

I pass by Macy, who’s wearing an outfit similar to my own. It’s not surprising, considering how encouraged we are to wear things we sell in store.

I know those are leggings under her big shirt, but I’m the cool manager. I’m the one that shrugs these things off, because aslong as you’re comfortable enough to efficiently do your job? It doesn’t matter in the slightest to me.

“I can take care of those if you want,” Paige tells me.

She’s one of my favorites for obvious reasons.

“Really? That would be awesome. Thanks.”

I leave the cart there, and give her a big smile as I walk away. I have reports to pull, and an afternoon meeting to prepare for. The less time I have to spend on the sales floor, the better.

Luckily, we’re in the slower season for retail shopping. The crowds we do get are usually holding gift cards they got for Christmas, or unfortunately, trying to return something they got for Christmas. We’re heavily pressured to turn those into exchanges, but teenagers are stubborn.

All the years I worked here have terrified me for what my future holds. Dahlia has a big personality now, it’s going to be brutal when she’s older.

I think I do a good job of showing her how customer service workers should be treated. Even when she’s not around, I treat every associate, waitress, delivery driver, teacher, you name it, with the utmost respect. But it’s especially amplified when I’m with her, like most things. Everything I say and do as a parent can absorbed by my kid for life, so I’m constantly thinking about what she’s absorbing from me.

I sit down at my back desk, and pull up the store email.

Meeting moved forward - See you all at 1:30!

I freeze, rereading the subject line over and over. Then I check my watch.

1:07

Shit.

I have an hour less than I thought to prepare. I scan through the reasoning, something about IT working on one of our higher revenue locations. I don’t see why we all have to suffer instead of lettingPaulamiss one single meeting.

Paige needs a thirty minute break, and now I have to tell her she can’t go until whenever this meeting is through.

I tell her so with a pout over the radio we keep clipped on us at all times.

“Not a problem!” her cheery voice comes through.

She needs a raise.

I need a raise.

I finish ringing up a customer, and placing their things in a bag. They thank me with a smile, and I tell them to have a good day. It’s a typical customer service interaction.