Summer with Sexy (Forever Rescue 1)

Summer with Sexy (Forever Rescue 1)
Treva Harte
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Copyright ©2022 Treva Harte

“We have a new assistant manager,” Tracey told me.

At one point, the last actual manager who worked here had hinted I was in line to be assistant manager. Right. Like I’d believed that. I yawned to show the depth of how much I cared about the news.

“How many does that make this year?” I asked. “Five? They can’t even hang on to assistant managers, much less hire a real manager. I bet this one lasts a week.”

The crazy thing was, it was easy work. I could do the job with my eyes shut. Of course you got paid less, after bonuses, for managing than you did for sales. At least you did if you were good at selling. I was damn good.

“This is even crazier than usual.” Tracey leaned forward. “Get this! It’s a guy.”

“What guy would work here?” I asked. “Wait. A cross-dresser?”

“I have no clue. But that is just weird. I wonder what the customers will think.”

“Maybe they’ll ask him to do their fittings.” I tried not to smile. Why not a cross-dressing guy as a manager? It was a free country, and some parts were even progressive. Not here, particularly, but there was a first time for everything. “When is he going to show up? Want to bet he doesn’t?”

Tracey hissed and froze. I took a deep breath. I hadn’t heard the front door chime for anyone opening it, but that could mean…

“How do you do?”

The guy’s voice sounded a little peculiar -- but then mine might if I’d just heard an employee saying I wasn’t going to show up when I was right freaking behind her. Or maybe he’d heard about the cross-dressing. Shit. When would I learn to stop snarking? He had to be the assistant manager. He’d used the back door. The one that required a key to enter so it didn’t have to chime.

I needed this job. There were other ones in town, but none of them had such convenient hours and required so little of me. I hadn’t even had the chance to show how good I was at the job before I sabotaged myself in front of the new assistant…

I turned with my widest smile -- it hurt, I was smiling so big and fake -- and held out my hand.

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” I used my sweetest Southern-girl voice. “I’m Zoe. Zoe Pappas.”

If only I’d had a sweet Southern name and face to match the voice. Then again, I was special. Not everyone could have the looks to match their heritage the way I did.

He took my hand to shake it, his face very serious. I kept looking up. Damn, he was tall. And skinny. While I was cataloging his looks, he was a ginger but not really the pretty kind. More the pasty-skinned, big-nosed British inbred kind. He’d make a lousy cross-dresser with that Adam’s apple.

And I was nervous. I had just blown my first meeting with my new boss, and I wanted him to be the problem. That wasn’t being fair, but it was one of my many flaws. When feeling defensive, be offensive. As offensive as possible. “Think nice thoughts, Zoe.” That’s what my counselor had told me in high school when I got into trouble.

Hmm. My boss had a nice, strong handshake. My dad had always said that was important in a man.

“Gordon Haigh. The new assistant manager.” His voice was beautiful. I planned to minor in acting, and I had a thing for voices. His was deep and resonant and… he fell silent again.

Tracey didn’t introduce herself. She was probably trying to look like part of the wall. I wasn’t sure what else to say without making things worse, and for once, I wasn’t going to try to do that.

“As long as there aren’t any customers around, we should start today by doing some retraining,” he said.

Yeah?

He walked over to our sign-in sheet -- why did anyone have anything that old-school in a store nowadays? -- and wrote his name and time in. I edged over to the sheet and looked down. Nice handwriting. A. Gordon Haigh was written in a lovely script.

I jerked my gaze back to his face when he spoke again.

“We can start with work on how we introduce ourselves in the store and making that good first impression.”

We all did that the first week of our training. He must know that. Of course he knew.

So. Ouch. I was being spanked for talking about him when he walked into the store. He should have just told me something up front.

I was also pretty sure that he looked a little longer toward me than Tracey after he spoke -- but not directly at me. At the girls.