Page 1

Chapter One

“Good morning,” I said in my cheerful, customer service voice. I’d perfected it over the past few years working retail, and it was going to be in full force this week. Sydney, my boss and manager, was currently lounging on a beach with her gorgeous girlfriend, and I was just hoping nothing went wrong. Since it was only Monday, I had a lot of hours to go.

A few people came into the shop and I made my presence known, but not too aggressively. They seemed like they were just killing time, so I let them do their thing and did my best not to hover.

The door opened again and in walked a woman who was so tall, I couldn’t help but stare. She definitely wasn’t from around here. I had only lived in Arrowbridge for five months, but I’d never seen anyone who looked like her. Her hair was so blonde it was almost white, cut short on the sides and longer on top, and carefully styled so she was both glam and butch at the same time.

Icy blue eyes scanned the shop and then stopped when they found me.

“Good morning,” I said, my voice barely audible. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Good morning, can I help you?”

She stepped closer and I took in her dark blue short-sleeve button-down, black slacks, and boat shoes.

Tall. So freaking tall. I was only just above five feet, so to me, most people were tall, but she was taller.

She finally spoke. “I’m looking for a gift.” Her voice was rich too. Expensive and cultured. Definitely not from here.

“We have all kinds of gift items, maybe I can help you choose something?” I asked. This was one of the best parts of my job. Second only to packing the perfect box for some reason.

She flicked her eyes over my lavender hair, which sometimes people couldn’t hide their disapproval about. With her, I only caught a little surprise before she went back to walking around the shop.

“I think I can handle it on my own,” she said.

I sighed inwardly. Damn. She was probably going to leave without buying anything. One of my goals this week was to sell as many things as I possibly could to show Sydney and her mom, Eileen (who was also technically my boss) that I was good at my job. They’d given me a chance and I wanted to show them it had been worth it.

“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” I asked. Some days Arrowbridge locals would come in just to grab a free cup, but actual customers loved it too, even though it was June and most people wanted iced drinks.

“Sure,” she said, picking up a mug and studying the design on it before setting it back down. There were silver rings on nearly every one of her fingers. The other people who’d been wandering around left, so it was just her and me in the main part of the shop, with Eileen out back painting mugs and listening to music on her headphones.

I filled a cup with black coffee and grabbed some creamer packets and a stirring stick, as well as a cup sleeve and a napkin.

“Here you are,” I said, going to hand her the cup, but I bumped her hand as she reached and the cup ended up spilling all over her front.

She jumped back, but some of the coffee had doused her shirt and pants.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” I said, dropping everything. “I’m so sorry, fuck, are you okay?”

“Where’s the bathroom?” she asked, and I pointed.

Her legs were so long that she made it to the bathroom quicker than I did and I stood there as she turned on the sink and started dousing herself with water.

Immediately, my thoughts went to panic. What if I’d burned her? Was she going to sue the store? There was no way that Sydney had enough money to pay for a lawsuit and then the business was going to go under and I’d be out of a job.

She cursed a few times under her breath and then unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it off, revealing a white tank top with a beige bra underneath.

“Are you okay?” I asked again as she pulled up the shirt to reveal an absolutely ripped stomach. I’d never seen abs like that up close before. Her skin was red in spots from where it had been splashed by the coffee.

“Fuck,” I said, staring to really panic. Why had I given her coffee? Why couldn’t I just have left her alone and ogled her from afar? Why did shit like this always seem to happen to me?

“Let me help you,” I said, searching for any way I could salvage this situation. I grabbed some towels and wetted them with water and started pressing them against her stomach.

Strong hands took hold of my wrists and stopped me. I looked up, way up, into her face.

“I’m okay,” she said. “Nothing a washing machine can’t fix.”

“But your skin is all red,” I said.

“It’s fine,” she said, pushing my hands away. Oh shit, now I’d fucked up even worse by putting my hand all over her abs.