The tall girl with long brown hair and a delicate face like Liv Tyler was idly browsing through the selections along the wall, so Madison cleared her throat. "Good afternoon. Can I help you find anything?"
"Uh . . . well, no. Yes." Looking over her shoulder, the young woman gave a half laugh. "Guess you get that a lot in here, right?"
"I'm still fairly new to running a lingerie store, but that's how I'd be about it if I was a customer. Kind of out of place, like I needed to keep the exit door close."
It was meant as a joke, but even Madison could hear the acid in her tone, fueled by an unexpected surge of bitterness. Suddenly she was back in the Boston lingerie store she'd visited while still trapped in a relationship with Leroy. She'd felt like a fraud, trying to plug a hole in the Titanic with crotchless panties.
Her brittle smile made it worse. The woman shot her an odd look, cleared her throat. "Thanks . . . er . . . I'll let you know if I need any help."
Madison tried to salvage the attempt. "Is it for a special occasion?"
"No. Not really. Not in that way." The woman gave her a nod, headed for the door. "Thanks."
"Come back and see us."
She gave that absent, probably not kind of nod, and then she was gone. The song changed to Boyz II Men's "I'll Make Love to You." Madison gave serious thought to ripping the speaker wires out of the wall.
Yes, it was only her first attempt, but if she couldn't keep her personal baggage out of it, she might as well quit before she started. Who was she kidding? Her mind wasn't in the right place to do this. Maybe she should hire someone to do it, even though she knew that wouldn't be honoring Alice's request the way she'd intended.
Well, damn you. Her fists closed on the counter. That kind of pushy meddling was why I didn't visit you for two years and you fucking know it.
Shit. She passed a hand over her face, felt the faint tremor in her fingers. I'm sorry, Alice. It didn't matter if it was true. She'd do anything to have her back. Anything. She thought about what Logan had said about the UPS man. Maybe honoring a loved one's last request was the same thing as keeping up a habit. Holding on to them as long as you could.
A trio of women had slipped in as the other woman left, so she had no choice but to try again. And fail again. Unfortunately, for the next hour, she had a slow trickle of impulse shoppers, no chance to tactfully lock the door and turn off the light. She tried asking questions but, as before, it was always the wrong question, the wrong attitude projected. She fell back on the tactics she'd used to sell cars and discovered there was a big difference between asking people if they were looking for a family vehicle or a four-inch-diameter dildo. Ouch, by the way. Hadn
't Alice worried about liability issues if people actually used that thing?
Long and short, struggling to find the right approach with customers while fighting her own emotional debris about the main reason to be in a store like this--to enhance a relationship--meant the only thing she accomplished was embarrassment, for both herself and the customers. A couple of them exited the store as if a fire alarm had been set off.
Eventually she resigned herself to staying behind the counter, no better than a passive, hired employee, available if the customer initiated contact. She sold a bra and a three-set of filmy panties, and Naughty Bits made no more of an impression than any generic clothing store.
As soon as the opportunity presented itself, she lunged to lock the door, though her relief only frustrated her more. She punished herself by going through Alice's hard-copy files in her little side office, organizing things for taxes that wouldn't be filed for months.
Why was she doing this to herself? Because Alice had asked her to do it. But surely she could put it off another month or two, right? She'd said she'd left her enough money to live on, and Madison had her own savings as well.
"Putting it off's not going to make it any better," she told herself. Gritting her teeth, she designed the grand reopening ads on the laptop, uploaded them to the local online and paper circulars. There. She'd officially set into motion what felt like a forced march into hell.
Okay, even Alice would say that was a little overly dramatic. Maybe she needed to close her eyes, indulge in a safe little pleasure trip where she imagined herself under Logan's tutelage like Troy . . .
She stopped in her mental tracks. Oh God. Of course. Maybe her wayward emotions had fucked up her grasp of that situation as well. Yes, Alice wanted Madison to embrace her submissive side, but she also would have wanted to help Madison successfully run the store. Alice knew she'd need to learn how to connect to her customers, understand how to make their fantasies come to life. Nothing was farther on the deep end of the sexual fantasy world than BDSM. So by "giving her to Logan," Alice was offering Madison the chance to get in the right mindset. Logan could help her learn how to do it. He'd said he was a training Master.
The strategy made a weird kind of sense, more practical and reassuring than the idea of her sister giving her to Logan like a mail-order bride. And Logan had said she could help with Troy's training. That was far different from being tied up or flogged herself. Maybe . . .
Sighing, Madison shook her head, deciding to give it a rest. It was time to call it a day.
A glance at the clock told her "calling it a night" would be more accurate. It was a little past seven. She cocked her head, only mildly alarmed when she heard movement in the back. The hardware store closed at five, but the same pickup truck from this morning was in the back next to her car, suggesting Logan or Troy was still around. Then she heard a mild curse and recognized the voice, though she wasn't sure if that didn't make her more alarmed, albeit in a different way.
Logan was shifting boxes in her storeroom. Looking beyond him, she saw the connecting door he'd mentioned, open now to show the full shelves in his own storage area. He straightened. "Good evening."
"Can I help you pilfer something? Perhaps a teddy and pair of stilettos in your size?" Her gaze coursed over his work shoes. "We might have a thirteen. I think the teddy's more flexible, due to the thong style."
He chuckled at that, but his brow creased as he gazed at the three tiers of shelves. "Alice let me keep things in here when I had overflow, because her inventory fits in a smaller space than mine. I was looking for a case of screws. I always tell Troy to put our stuff in this corner over here, but maybe Alice rearranged it. Or Troy forgot and I'll have to make him drink motor oil to help him remember in the future."
Her side of that connecting door had been locked, which meant he had a key to it. She wondered if she needed to set polite but firm new boundaries, but she'd wait until she was sure she wasn't being pissy because of her first non-event of customers.
"I haven't had a chance to go through all the dusty back corners yet, but I covered most of the rest of the stock." She came to stand at his side, bending to look deeper into the lower shelf. "Wait, see behind the pink box? Is that it?"
He bent with her, laying a hand on her back as he did so, a casual gesture that nevertheless spread heat from the point of contact. When he smiled, that heat increased. "Yep, that's it." He pushed her gently aside to stretch his longer frame over the wide board, treating her to a view of denim straining over an excellent ass. His broad shoulders shifted as he pulled the box forward and ducked his head to come back out, the thick tail of his hair falling over his shoulder. "Good eye. So, are you done for the day? If you want, you can have that tour of the woodworking area now. I'll even throw in a quick tour of the hardware store. Alice had a free pass to grab anything she needed whenever. You're welcome to do the same."