“It’s wrong for the store.” She steps out from behind the tall table of shirts to peruse the rack of dresses beside it. “You can wear what you want on your own time, but when you’re here, ya gotta represent the Boots n’ Bangles brand.”
“Oh.” My high hopes deflate like a balloon. I thought I’d made the perfect choice this morning. Simple and understated yet fun and flirty. But looking around, I realize I’ve made another mistake. I can’t be prettier than the clothes I’m trying to sell.
She slips a dress off the rack and holds it up, closing one eye as if trying to imagine it on me. “This is more like it.” A polyester rag with cut-out shoulders and a lace eyelet hem. It’s a tragedy on a plastic hanger. Then again, taking in her own choice of clothing for the day, I shouldn’t be surprised. She squeezed herself in denim from cleavage to knee, a sausage casing ready to burst at the seams.
“Um …” My desperate gaze searches the store for literally anything else, but a rack of accessories catches my eye. “Am I allowed to dress it up a bit?” My brain flips to outfit mode. I weave through the racks and choose a braided leather belt, a long gold necklace, a chunky bracelet, and a pair of brown boots.
Her brows lift. “Hmm. That might be a look.” She drapes the dress over my arm and shows me the dressing room.
I remind myself I’m playing a part. Like an actor, we wear different clothes to portray our characters. This is no different. Audrey Hepburn walks into the dressing room; Miranda Lambert walks out.
“Nice work,” Jolene says.
“Thank you.” A wave of pride washes over me. Fashion isn’t about the label. It’s about pulling together a look that works when no one else thinks it will. It’s about using the tools at your disposal and still managing to impress.
I set the clothes I wore in behind the register and follow Jolene to the front of the store. “Today, you’ll greet the customers and ensure the front of the store is clean and organized.” She runs through my list of duties: say hello to every customer who walks in the door, make sure the items on the shelves stay neatly folded, and return dressing room items to their racks. Once we’ve got it all squared away, she flips the sign toopen,and the day begins.
Country music plays on the speaker overhead. I’ve never been a fan, but as the day progresses, I find myself humming alongas I stack the shirts in color order. What started out as a simple enough job has turned into a monotonous task. I must have circled the store a thousand times. My voice is hoarse from repeating the phrase, “Welcome to Boots n’ Bangles. I’m Ellie. Let me know if you need anything.” I’ll no doubt be saying it in my sleep. For a podunk little store in the middle of nowhere, it gets more traffic than I anticipated.
“How ya doin’ over there?” Jolene saunters by with an armful of jeans.
“Feeling just like a girl in a country song,” I quip, but my legs are tired, and my feet are sore. I glance at the clock, relieved to see it’s near closing.
Jolene smiles. As far as bosses go, she’s pretty easygoing. If only I can get her to stop dressing like ten pounds of shit in a five-pound bag, she’d be perfect. I’m not sure of her exact age, but the few gray straggles in her otherwise dark hair tell me she must be over forty. And she’s still dressing like a teenager. She needs to learn there’s a way to look young without dressing so …young. She’s a beautiful woman, and it’s not doing her any favors.
With fifteen minutes left on the clock, I hear the telltale sound of bells. I step toward the door and begin my spiel, but the sight of Troy standing in the doorway steals the words from my lips. “Can I help you?”
“Nope. Just browsing.” He blows past as if we’ve never met.
I peek from the corner of my eye, trying my best not to watch him pretend to shop, but I catch his gaze more than once.
“Buying something for your girlfriend?” I ask, my lips pressed in a wry grin.
“My mom, actually.” He pulls a heather gray tank top from the rack and holds it up in front of him, the wordsSouthern Cutiescreen printed across it in neon pink. “Think she’ll like this?”
Playing into his hand, I keep my expression neutral. “That’s a very popular style with the older crowd.”
“Is it now?”
“Mm-hmm.” I nod. “Just today, I sold one to a grandma of four.”
Dimples sink into his cheeks when he smiles. “I’ll take it.”
“Excellent. Would you like me to bring it to the register for you?”
“No. I got it. Thanks.”
The minute he turns his back, I let out a silent laugh. He pays for his ridiculous purchase and says goodbye as he exits the store.
Jolene follows and flips the sign toclosed. “That’s a wrap.”
A sigh blows from my chest. I sag against the wall, letting my head fall back. “What a day.”
“C’mon, child, I’m sure this was nothin’ compared to them big-city stores.”
I inwardly curse, remembering the lie I told to get this job. “Yeah, but a long day is still a long day, right?”
Her red lips press together.