11

11

Pips

I came racing into the store like my arse was on fire. Possibly an inappropriate simile, since the Burning Barbecue Incident, but I was already twenty minutes late. Tamara was always pontificating how important punctuality was.

I'd first stirred awake this morning to the cute sight of Marcus quietly dressing, trying not to disturb me. I'd craved more of his gorgeous, greedy body in my bed, but I was also touched by the careful way he perched on the far edge of the mattress to pull on his socks and shoes. Also by the apparently irresistible need he had, just before he left, to touch my skin where it emerged from the sheets; to run his fingers one last time through my hair.

I was also sure I heard him say he'd set an alarm for me, just before I drifted back to sleep.

Dammit .

As luck would have it, Tamara met me at the door to the staff room. I was panting and wriggling into my tunic at the same time.

"Pips?"

"I know, I know. I'm late," I said, a bit unnecessarily. Then remembered to add, "Sorry. I suppose you'll see this as the final straw, but if you can let me work out the rest of the week—"

"What are you talking about?"

"Firing me," I said.

She bit off a startled laugh. "I'm not doing that. In fact, this gives me another opportunity to thank you for stepping forward to do these Demo Days."

"Which I've messed up." I was a bit stunned.

"You stepped forward," she repeated. "That was enough. Our footfall has increased significantly."

I scoffed, though Marcus had also said something like that.

Her eyes twinkled. "You don't believe me, do you? I know you've had bad luck with previous jobs. But I think you've found a niche here. And I think you know that, if you'd let yourself relax. You fit in well. You could have a good career."

Call the newspapers! I was in shock. No one had ever said that to me before. It had always been: you don't behave as we'd like. You're too careless/outrageous/outspoken. You don't fit .

"I believe the Demo Days have made you a local celebrity." When I raised my eyebrows, she laughed again. "Well, a landmark then. YBB is glad to have you. You're not thinking of leaving, are you?"

I didn't want to leave my job; I knew that now, deep in my heart and my gut. I liked the interaction in-store. I liked the team. It was familiar, but in a comfortable way. Like a family.

And there was also someone I really wanted to keep seeing.

"No, I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Because I'm setting you to work with Marcus Lambert on new marketing ideas. He's a good lad, if a bit green around the gills. But we can offer him some strong early work experience. And you can't fault his enthusiasm."

I remembered the way he'd showed his enthusiasm last night, with hands and mouth on me, with breathy grunts and laughing gasps. Better I kept that to myself, I reckoned.

Tamara continued, "You can show him the ropes. Keep him on track."

Yeah. Stunned. Again . "Me?"

She pursed those 2H lips, exasperation looming. "Think about it, Pips. You understand the public, the local community, our own staff. You care , even if you resist admitting it. You're the right person to call on."

Lina chose that moment to stick her head in the staff room door. "There you both are. I wanted to let you know I don't think the Demo is gonna run for much longer. There aren't many customers interested in flower arranging, as I could've told you, but then it was probably a better idea to run a non-food, non-fire, non-weapon of mass destruction Demo today after the way the week has gone so far—"

Tamara interrupted, "But isn't Pips—?"

"What Demo?" I snapped at the same time. "I've only just arrived!"

We swivelled to stare at each other in confusion. Then I spun on my heel and dashed out of the staff room door.