Write Me A Love Story

06:

The store's quiet morning jingle filled my ears. Leaning into my palm, I relaxed against my register, fixated on the entrance doors that no one came through. Normally, I complained about slow mornings. Today, I used the turtle time clock to my advantage.

It'd been a week since I saw Reece, a week with his writer's advice. I admit, it worked. I got words written. Full chapters? Not really, but he had said that was normal. He believed the scattered scene writing would work for me. He said he knew I'd be able to connect the pieces like a puzzle once I figured out my who, what, where, when, and why.

My issue? To write, to put my character's face in my head, I thought of him. Reece. The hero in my story and my writing victories. Why? I didn't even know him.

"Pspsps, stand up." A hand quickly tapped my register's conveyor belt. I shot up, catching the exaggerated, perky, happy expression on Nancy's face. She cupped her hands together, slowly moving closer. "Joe's making his rounds."

Shit. Joe. Of course, our manager wanted to do rounds so early in the morning when nothing was happening. He acted like we needed to constantly sort boxes of snacks, rearrange and face candies, boxes, and bags. I was a cashier. I didn't have much to fix, but I couldn't say that to him. The one time I did, he told me, "Well leave your lane and fix the aisles close to you."

Yeah, and then I got written up for leaving my cashier lane unattended.

As Nancy stood in front of my register, I straightened and turned. Joe, with his white polo shirt and red manager name tag on his chest, approached us with a smile just as fake as ours. His clipboard of faux responsibilities hung on his arm. With his other hand, he tapped a pen against it. Before he even reached me, he cocked a brow and frowned.

Where did his smile go?

"I see you have nothing to do, Camila." He stood beside my lane and looked around. "Have you dusted, wiped, disinfected?"

The extra begins.

Keeping a polite face, I folded my hands in front of me. I looked at Nancy, she kept her 'smile,' too.

"I have," I lied. I mean, I'd done it the day before, but yesterday was as slow as ten turtles falling asleep in a race. The way I saw it, my lane was spotless. Still, I humored him; in case he was petty enough to look at security cameras. "But I can do it again if you like."

Joe's brows lifted. For such a short man, he made that expression so much, it should've given him some height. Sadly, it wouldn't. He'd stay forever at my eye level. "Well, I think if you've done that—"

Out of the corner of my eye, Nancy's face changed. The fake enthusiasm switched to shock. She even blushed. Covering her mouth, her eyes jumped from me to behind me.

I still focused on Joe, even though my mind told me to turn around.

"—I think you can step over to the cereal aisle and help unload the recent delivery."

I clenched my jaw. Why me? He had a whole team for that. I was sure some of them showed up if not all.

Clearing my throat, I was prepared to defend why I shouldn't leave, but a voice stopped me. "If she leaves, who's going to ring me up? Are you?"

It wasn't just any voice. Finally turning, I looked at Reece's face as he approached my lane. There was a box of mixed assortment tea in his hands.

Rather than focus on the chamomile, peppermint, and raspberry teas he placed on the conveyor belt, I was glued to him. He wasn't smiling. The way his jaw clenched, he looked both annoyed and concerned. The natural mean mug, the way his eyebrows pinched together, slightly shadowing his dark eyes, he looked dangerously sexy. My cheeks were on fire.