It’s a shame that she’s not one of my own, I think as I begin to pick through the boxes in front of me.
I glance down at the piece of paper I ripped out of Richter’s ledger and then squint at the choices in front of me.
“Here.”
I startle slightly, but when I regain myself, I glare at the girl as she hands me a basket.
“You should learn to smile more. You’re going to get wrinkles sooner than you ought to,” Hailey teases me before she walks away.
I watch her hips.
The way they make the rest of her body sway ever so slightly and grit my teeth before I get back to grabbing what I need.
This isn’t my only stop today and I refuse to be taunted and tempted by some little bitch I have no business even engaging in conversation.
* * *
I left the store about twenty minutes after I entered.
She tried to keep me there longer by talking to me while she checked me out, flipping her damn hair over her shoulder, and batting those goddamn eyelashes of hers.
She’d never be a good girl; not if she’s so fast and loose with every man that walks through the door of her grandparents’ establishment.
I pull my truck into an empty spot at the local grocery store knowing that I’d be doing myself and my family a disservice by bringing in someone that didn’t belong with us.
My girls know better than to act like that.
They carry themselves with pride and decency because that’s exactly how their father taught them to be.
That trashy little shit is a perfect example of how good girls shouldn’t be.