"Secrets don't die with the ones who keep them. They haunt the living until they're forced into the light..."
Aminah Clarke's life shattered the night her fiancée, Hailee, died in a tragic car crash. Now, a year later, she is left with a book bar, a...
Edited Fr this time🤍 Spotify playlist for this book is titled 'Tangled Veils🤍' Link will be in the comments as well🤍
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Aminah's POV:
"Alright, your total is $47.50, will that be cash or card?" I smile sweetly at the short elderly woman in front of me
Her face scrunched in disgust, "$47.50, that's absolutely ridiculous. I only got three books. Ring it up again, that's not right."
Don't do it, Minah. "Ma'am, I assure you that's the correct total-" My words were cut short by the palm of her hand blocking my view.
She's not worth it. Just be professional.
"Excuse me, ma'am--" I was cut off once again.
Like venom the words shot from her. "No, you excuse me. Listen here, you big idiot."
One. "There's no way in hell I'm taking 47 of my good dollars to pay for three stinking books."
Two. I stood frozen, contemplating my actions. Just breathe, Aminah.
Proudly she stood in front of the counter, shooting daggers with her eyes. "See, it's people like you that make shopping feel so uncomfortable. Where is your manager?"
Three. I pulled my lips into a tight smile and tilt my head to the right. Stray curls falling in my face as I eye the elderly decrepit woman. Bringing my hand up softly, I wave my fingers and straighten my body.
"Well, ma'am, you're speaking to the owner of the very floor you're standing so proudly on." Turning up the corner of my lips, I watch in amusement as the elderly woman scoffs before slamming the books down on the counter and turning to leave the store.
"Oh, and ma'am, since people like me make you uncomfortable, you don't have to bring your coffin-ready decrepit ass in here ever again. Consider yourself banned. Now, get the hell out of my store," I add, feeling a stream of confidence flow through me.
The salt-haired woman stood frozen, too embarrassed to speak. Aw cat got your tongue?
"Do I need to-", I was cut off for the third time today by a dangerously low and smooth voice. Who the fuck?
"You heard the pretty lady, or should I call the authorities?"
Pretty lady?
I avert my gaze from the elderly woman to see a tall blonde haired woman. A fitted baseball cap shielding her espresso shaded eyes, and small tattoos scattered across both her arms. Her medium length hair cascaded like sunlight, each golden strand carrying the warmth of a summer day. In her all-black ensemble, topped off with a pair of panda sneakers, she exuded laid-back confidence.
She's got style.
The elderly woman's irises widen darting back and forth between the two of us before quickly storming out. Leaving nothing but the sound of bell chimes and three very needed self help books to remind us of her presence.
