The Deal

Three-Imani

Standing behind this counter has been the most boring job I've ever taken, but as long as I get to stare at my boss's buttocks from this position all day, I'm okay with it. Today, my favorite pair of dark jeans cover the man's lower body, fitting really well with a white, short sleeve shirt, and I can say, this shirt is revealing a whole lot of muscle on his arms. He bends down to scan the row of books in the Non-Fiction aisle, and once again, I get a peak of his wonderful behind. When he gets up, I let out a tiny groan, because I don't want the show to be over.

"If we give this guy positive reviews, we're definitely going to get more people here," Andrew tells me, referring to the brand, new, just-ordered copies of DIY books stacked in the last row of the wooden shelf. I've been ogling my boss's handsome face, the words he just uttered fall on deaf ears.

"What....Yeah, yeah," I stutter. "Definitely, Mr. Bongani."

Andrew scoffs at me. "Imani, for God sake, what did I say about addressing me formally? Just call me Andy."

"Oh, right," I reply, playing with the front page of the book I normally bring with me to work, "Andy." It's good he can't see that I'm blushing, or the fact that I'm tensed as hell. I told myself as soon as I got out of bed today that I'm going to do the unthinkable.

"Anyway, I just want to say, you've been a real great help to not only me but to the bookstore," he goes on. "The people I hired years ago kept on complaining I wasn't paying them enough to stand behind this desk for five hours; not a soul walking through that door to look at the junk we have." He sticks his hands in his jeans pockets. "But you, even though I'm paying less than I ever did them, you're always here on time. You've done what I've always asked, and not a complaint from you. You are a special kind of employee."

"Gee, thanks, Mr....I mean Andy." I can't get enough of gazing into the iris of his eyes, nicely-shaped, stubby beard and curly, brunette hair. The dimples that form when he smiles...my God. His cologne-Cedarwood. Add that beautiful face to a well-built body with revealing biceps. Ever since Andy hired me as a clerk in Bongani's Books, I've been crushing on him, hard. His down-to-earth personality and playful nature amazes me. I've wanted to do this ever since he first interviewed me, so that's why today I made a promise to ask him out.

"We're going to do a little toast," Andrew says when he looks me over his shoulder.

My eyes bulge. "Really? For what?"

"For just being an awesome employee. Because of you, my business has been booming. Once again, living, breathing people are walking into my store. I don't know how you do it, but I'm sure it's those social media advertising skills you've put to good use."

"Oh, thank you, Mr....Andy, sir, but I don't drink."

"Relax," he says to me, before fleeing to his office in the back room. When he comes out, I'll have to do it. It's now or never. I've never asked a boy out on a date, even as a teenager, I've never told a boy that I liked him. Growing up as a kid in the nineties, I respected the saying  that girls never make the first move because it's always the guys. People would say girls, in nature, are introverted like cats, and boys are extroverted like dogs, and so on and so forth. But right now, as cringe as it sounds, I'm trying to be like the extroverted dog. Whatever that means.

Andy walks towards me with a glass of non-alcoholic wine and two sets of glasses. After the wine is poured, we clink glasses together and say our toast.

"To you, Imani, my number one clerk," Andy says, and winks at me. I feel a little surge down between my legs because he drives me wild anytime he does that. This feels so inappropriate; I'm about to ask my boss for a first date. Employers don't always last in the business when they do that, right? I'm aware of the repercussions if this mission backfires. I know if he rejects me, it's going to hurt really bad. But I'm going to do it.

"Mr.....uh, Andy-"

The bell on top of the door chimes, and, in a quick haste, Andy hides the wine bottle and glasses behind his back. Traipsing towards us is a light-skinned woman with black, bob-hair. A long-sleeve, blue turtleneck wrapped around her upper body, and a black skirt covering her curves.

"Andyyy", this woman sings as she hovers so close to him, completely ignoring my presence. My heart drops at the fact that she knows Andrew. "You miss me already?"

"You didn't tell me you're coming to visit, Krystal," he replies. He brings out his hands to reveal the wine bottle and glasses.

Krystal does an overdramatic gasp. "Andy, why aren't you wearing your ring?"

My heart drops. Of course, he's married. Andy's too good-looking to be single. He's too good-looking to be with someone like me. I try to bury my head in the book I'm still holding; How To Embrace Mental Illness, page hundred, but I can't help but stare at Krystal's pouty face.

"For God sake, Krystal, you know the store is the only place you see me without it, right?" Andy winks at her, and Krystal's face brightens. Immediately, she wraps her arms around him. "Aw, I know you. I'm only messing around." Right in front of me, she kisses Andy with passionate hunger, even biting his lower lip. Well, my heart has definitely disappeared. Andy turns his gaze at me.

"Imani, I'm sorry I haven't introduced you to my wife, but this is Krystal. Krystal Bongani."

His wife's gaze is still directed at Andy as she replies, "Hello, Imani."

"Hi," I reply with a flat tone.

When he walks away, she smacks his buttocks and giggles. Territory marked. Message received. Krystal finally looks at me, and my heart pounds a little quicker. I force a smile in return. "Hi", I repeat like a dumbass.

"Are you single, Imani?" Krystal asks.

I raise my eyebrows. "S-single?" Where is she going with this? "That's none of your business, you rude, bitching diva." Of course that's what I imagine myself saying, but can I actually say that to my boss's wife?

"Yes, I am."

Krystal nods. "I know."

I furrow my eyebrows. I beg your pardon? Was that an attack? I pretend I didn't hear it.

"Anyway, you'll find someone," Andy's bitchy wife continues. "He'll come eventually. I just want to say thanks for all the help you're giving my husband. This store would have shut down if you didn't show up. I influenced Andrew to start this business, you know?"

"Oh, I didn't know that," I tell her.

"I even came up with the name. I made him fall in love with reading when we met in Uni. I turned him into the man he is today."

She's clearly gloating. I continue to smile, but when I bury my face back in my book, I realize she's still staring at me. I really want her to leave.

"Has anyone told you, you look like Bernadette Amara?" she asks.

I genuinely have no idea who that is, but I have to act nice. "Sorry, who?"

"Bernadette Amara. Popular actress in this country. She's in the sitcom Bad Habits? You haven't seen the show?"

I shake my head with a grin. Her eyebrows shoot up. "Well," she scoffs. "You definetly need to see it. I'd better call the show's producers to hire you to play her double in an episode or something. Anyway, Hamba kahle."

With no subtle comeback, I watch her catwalk out of the store.

"I even came up with the name," I mutter, mimicking her voice. For the next hours, I get no customer so I have enough reading time. I arrange the books in the shelf under the Science Fiction aisle, wait for my co-worker Phillip to arrive for his night shift, then nearly add in the logbook, "Today, Andrew's bitch of a wife arrived to show me how much of a bitch she was", and then walk home.

I make my way to the tiny apartment I bought from my most-trust worthy friend; disappointment etched on my face. I can never compete with a woman like Krystal. Not with the kind of baggage I have. When I enter my house, my mood shifts at once.

"Richelle! Kaya!" I call out. When I enter my son and daughter's bedroom, my jaw drops. I let out a tiny gasp. Scattered all over the floor is a pile of wrapped-up presents and a few clothes. It's him again. It's about time.

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Chapter Soundtrack: Maxwell As My Girl