Page 15 of Resonance

“You know what I mean, and besides, it’s nothing serious. I wouldn’t want to be with him long term anyway.”

“Then why waste the time?”

I squinted dubiously at him, then laughed.

“Yeah, on second thought, never mind. You could find someone else to…” He gestured vaguely. “He just seemed like a jackass, is all.”

I studied Dan’s profile as he turned his attention back to the stickers. He had large, strong hands and kept having to peel the stickers free by using the corner of his pinky nail for leverage. Had I unsettled him? I had to take a moment to appreciate that accomplishment and also feel some simultaneous discomfort since he was my boss and maybe this wasn’t typical workplace conversation. I guess? I wasn’t exactly up to date on office protocol, but I figured even in a music store having a boner for your boss was one of those hopeless causes. And especially when you were me and Dan was… Dan.

“I’ll be sure to run my prospects through you next time,” I told him, plunking another orange sticker next to Stevie Ray Vaughn’s face. “Will you make them fill out a questionnaire?”

Dan snapped a startled look my way, then licked his lips and set his jaw. “I might just. At the very least, I’ll check that their acceptable places to get it on don’t include next to a dumpster.”

“That was actually my idea.”

His gaze flickered toward me again, a sharp glint in his eye that I couldn’t tell whether was teasing or disapproval. “Well shit, it’s a lost cause, then, innit?”

“You should’ve already figured that out by now. There’s actually a mark on me somewhere that says that very thing. Not telling you where it is, though.” Fuck. I was flirting. Or attempting to.

Dan grinned and shook his head. “I’m ending this conversation now before you tell me you’re into watersports.”

“One, I would never admit that to my boss, and two, don’t be judgy.”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” Dan abandoned the stickers, leaning to pick up the peels of backing paper curled around my feet, and then left me behind to stroll toward the checkout counter with them.

I finished up the records I was working on and carried them to a rack I’d rearranged for the sale earlier.

Ru arrived fifteen minutes later with a bulging, grease-spotted white paper bag.

My stomach growled a hello to it as I rushed toward the checkout counter. “Is that Burrito Bandit?”

“Sure is.” He beamed, unwinding a colorful knit scarf from around his neck after setting the bag down near the register. The temperature had dropped overnight, and when I’d left for work this morning, my breath had come out in white puffs. Typical crazy Southern weather.

“You’re a goddess.”

“Where’s my offering of virgins?”

“Pffft. You don’t need virgins. You’ve got your own living god,” I said, referring to his boyfriend, Quinn, who I thought was sex on a stick. Or paintbrush as the case may be, considering his career.

Ru laughed and flapped the fringe of the scarf at me. I caught the fluffy ends, rubbing the yarn between my fingers. “This is nice. Where’d you get it?”

“Marco made it. He made one for Quinn, too.” Ru attempted a scowl, but there was too much delight in it. “They match.”

“Y’all are disgusting.”

“I know.” He cackled. “Bet he’d make one for you, too. Want me to ask?”

“A matching one so we could be a trio?” I waggled my eyebrows, and Ru gave me a faux scandalized look before laughing.

“Something like that.”

“Nah. I’m fine.” I let go of the fringe. “What’re you looking at me like that for?”

“I was just thinking about Marco. You’ve met him, right?”

I nodded, curiosity piqued. Marco was technically Quinn’s assistant, and the couple of times he’d been in the shop, he’d seemed harried and endlessly busy. I thought he acted as an assistant to several other artists in town, but I wasn’t sure.

“Maybe we should do some sort of double—”