The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 2 - The All-Seeing Eye

I opened the shutters and unlocked the back room while Sosa switched on the lights and computers. Soft pop music floated from the speakers, and the neon pink sign that read Lipstick&Co. buzzed to life over the counter. I looked at it meekly, mentally preparing myself for the ten-hour shift ahead.

"Sosa, I'm going to grab a coffee from the kiosk before we start. Do you want anything?" I waited patiently as she scrubbed the counter with antiseptic wipes and inspected for any remaining dust particles. "Sos?" I prompted when she didn't respond.

She cleared her throat loudly but didn't look up. "No thanks, Sanxajn. I'm fine," she mumbled.

I exited the shop without another word and crossed the street to the news kiosk in the square. I pulled my sunglasses over my eyes as I passed the old men I secretly called the Resident Benchers, as they were permanently perched there monitoring the square.

"One black coffee and a bottle of still water, please. And a caramel bar," I told the bristly man behind the window.

I took in the morning bustle as he prepped my coffee. The road was already jam-packed with cars. Horns blared, joyful bells rang from the steeples of the huge church, people rushed around, glancing anxiously at their watches, and eager shoppers were already creeping into the square. Most of the shutters were up, and shop signs were flashing invitations along the perimeter calling Come in! We're OPEN.

Hearing a rough grunt behind me, I turned back towards the kiosk window. The man handed me a steaming polystyrene cup, a bottle of water, and a crumpled chocolate bar before returning to his newspaper. I headed back to the shop, flipping our own sign on my way in.

"Ħa!" I said, chucking the bar in Sosa's direction. "You are not beating me at that Summer Body Challenge this year. I'm not afraid to play dirty."

Sosa caught the bar and stared at it blankly for a moment. Then, a small smile spread across her face. "You're as bootylicious as ever, sabiħa!" she said warmly, ripping the wrapper.

The hours dragged by slowly. We wiped the shelves and swept the floors. We did the inventory and placed the order for the next month. We planned the window display for the next two weeks. But it was a slow day, especially for a Friday. I wished I'd brought my copy of Pride and Prejudice. I would have finished it for the sixth time.

At around two o'clock, Sosa sent me off for my break. Usually, I'd wander through the streets and do some shopping, but I didn't have the heart to leave her today. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, I could tell she was nowhere near her usual self, which was pretty disturbing. Sosa didn't get distressed over guys.

I asked about her car. She said she didn't think her dad was still angry about the ticket, but he probably wouldn't be giving her the keys back anytime soon thanks to another quarrel with her mother. Sosa's parents had been arguing since the beginning of time, so this wasn't exactly news. But I still steered the conversation towards more amiable topics, clothes, shopping, online shopping, shoes, and then a bit more about clothes, breaking off occasionally to serve the odd customer. When there was an hour left on the clock, I reached for my puzzle book.

"Ally, what do you think you're doing?" Sosa hissed, her lips stretched tight over her teeth as though she were training to become a ventriloquist. "He'll see you." Her panicked eyes flicked up to the security camera over our heads.

"Relax, I'll put it away the second someone approaches the door," I said calmly. "We've been here for nine hours. I need something to revive my brain cells."

I turned away from her disapproving scowl and finished the puzzle on page seventeen in just under ten minutes. Knowing I could do better, I flipped through the pages in search of another one and then, surely as the sun rises every bloody morning, the phone rang.

Sosa gave me her signature 'I told you so' look as she reached for the cordless.

"Hello, Lipstick&Co., Stephanie speaking. How may I- Hi, Mr Cordina. Aha. Okay. Yes, Mr Cordina. I will, Mr Cordina. I know. I'm sorry, it won't happen again. Goodnight." She hung up the phone, closed her eyes, and released a slow, dramatic breath. "Do I have to tell you who that was?"

I gave her a sheepish grin. "Yes?"

"U ejja, Ally!" Her arms shot up into the air before resting on her hips. "Why do you do this? Why do you insist on pissing him off?"

"I don't insist. I... He's just..." I broke off mid-sentence, searching for the right words to describe our obnoxious boss. "Easily aggravated."

"He's The Boss!" she exclaimed. "It's his job to supervise."

"No, it's not," I said, sounding calmer than I felt. I hated the effect The Boss had on her. "You're the floor supervisor. It's your job to supervise. Why does he even have you if he's going to micromanage everything himself?"

Sosa narrowed her eyes at me. "Is it me you're trying to piss off?"

"What? No, Sos, come on!"

I stared back at my only friend in the world, amazed it was even possible that the obsessive-compulsive person in front of me was the same freak who once ended up in hospital after a crazy night out and told all the nurses she was allergic to rainbows and Skittles.

"Come on, let's start stocking up," she sighed resignedly. "Sandy's on tomorrow, and you know how she gets if she finds the shelves empty."

"Yeah. God forbid she'll wake up Jeremy James Bond early on a Saturday like she did last time," I said sarcastically, walking out from behind the counter to help Sosa reconstruct the lipstick pyramid in the middle of the shop.

"He's not that bad, ta'," Sosa said after a short while.

My eyes rolled. "Why are you defending him? He makes your life a living hell."

Thanks to his all-seeing eye and the ample free time on his hands, Jeremy James Cordina, more affectionately known as The Boss, was a constant thorn in her side. And in mine. He never actually came to the store. Clearly, we weren't worth the time and energy. But he was always calling to complain about something or other, mostly about me.

"I've known him for a long time. I guess you just have to have a way with him," she answered, avoiding my gaze.

A way with him? I tried to think of one nice thing I'd ever heard him say, and my mind drew a blank, save for the first time I met him. He had just bought out Lipstick&Co. from his mother and organised a Christmas party for his girls, as he liked to call us.

He came over to chat me up, not knowing I was one of his employees. I remember his thick charm tingling my skin. He was undeniably intriguing and somewhat intimidating. But I have to admit, I found talking to him easy and comfortable, which doesn't happen all that often with me. Then, noting my empty glass, he went to get me a drink. I didn't see him for the rest of the night.

Later, Sosa said she'd seen him leave with some girl. I wasn't surprised. Jeremy James Cordina was one of those men who could take a girl home just by nodding towards the exit.

Not that bad, my arse.

The next time I saw him was almost a year later, when he pulled up in front of the store in his fancy red convertible. He came over to leave a manila envelope for one of the suppliers. He glanced in my direction for about half a second before hopping back into his Porsche and roaring off.

Following both encounters came a series of phone calls proving he was the most annoying prick on the planet, and that he particularly disliked me. Everything I did warranted a verbal warning, but he never had the balls to tell me himself. He always went through Sosa, just to put her in the uncomfortable position of having to tell off her best friend.

A way with him, indeed.

"Well, if he was nice once, he's certainly making up for it now," I retorted, aware of the contempt gnawing at my stomach. But Sosa didn't reply or smile. If anything, her scowl hung lower over her chin. "I'm sorry. I'll try harder, okay?"

Nothing.

"Come on, name your price."

She finished up the display with a flourish and turned to face me with a broad smile. "Paceville. Tonight."

"I'll pick you up at ten," I answered without giving it a second thought. A night out with Sosa was something I never had, and never would, turn down.