Isolation (Book #1 of the Taylor Series)

Thirteen

"Why hello," Mrs. Peterson smiles as she strolls past me with a huge box in her hands, "Surprised to see you here today. Are you feeling better?" She drops the box on the ground in front of a bookshelf and starts to unpack the brand new  paperbacks.

I smile politely and adjust my name tag. "Yeah, sorry about staying out for the past few days, I must've had the flu or something." She waves me off and slams some more books onto the shelves.

"It's alright, it's the first time you've ever actually called in. Now come over here and help me stock." She demands.

I nod and get on my hands and knees beside her. It's weird to think about, but for a business person, it doesn't seem to me like her business is her main priority. Not in a bad way, just in the way that there are bigger things to care about, like the health and well-being of her employees. That's more than I can say about other business owners.

Smiling at the thought of Peterson's humanity, I put more stacks of books on the shelves. I hadn't even realized that I'd been putting the books in alphabetical order based on author until my boss sighs beside me contently.

"See, this is why I keep you here, Nicholson. Excellent job." She praises me, and I roll my eyes. She should see my bookshelves at home. They're an absolute mess, so humiliatingly so, that she'd probably faint at the sight of them.

"Thanks, but this is only a skill that I apply at your store. If you saw my bookshelves at home, I'd get fired." I joke, and she laughs a low fake laugh. 

Mrs. Peterson stands up promptly, and I look up her surprised. The lights are so bright in here that I can hardly see the gray tint in her eyes or the gray strands in her hair.

"We both have got to get back to work." She says in a modest tone. 

I look back towards the box confused and notice that we'd already put all the books on the shelves. Nodding, I stand up and take my place behind the cash register. I watch her walk to the back of the store, in the direction of her office before I turn back to the entrance door.

After a few minutes, I realize that nobody will be coming in anytime soon. I'm not exactly surprised, it's Saturday and it's only 12 P.M. Not rush hour, so I suspect that we'll be quite empty for awhile. Just as I pull my phone out of my pocket and type in the passcode, I hear the bell ring.

"Welcome to Peterson's Books, let me know if you nee-- Stella?" I raise my eyebrows at her confused.

She obtains a pissed look on her face with tears in her eyes. "I'm so fucking sick of him," She walks towards me and leans on the counter, "I mean, look at me. I'm attractive, Eve, I'm one of the hottest girls in the entire school. That's not me being conceded or anything, I genuinely am. Yet, my stupid boyfriend doesn't even want to fuck anymore. Why?" To say that I'm taken by surprise would be an understatement.

"Stella, I'm at work. I don't really have time to talk about this with you," I look around the empty store awkwardly, "And even if I did, I really don't want to talk about this particular subject with you."

She stomps her foot like a child, and I roll my eyes. A few tears roll down her face with a sniffle. "Just tell me one thing, Eve. Just one thing." She begs, her voice cracking.

I look around the store awkwardly and then back to her, and nod slowly. "Am I attractive?"

My eyes widen, "Huh?"

"You know, am I attractive? Does Graham still find me attractive? I mean, we haven't fucked in weeks, and honestly, I'm beginning to think it's because I'm not sexy enough for him. Or maybe he has somebody else on his mind and wants them instead. Honestly, I have no fucking clue, but has he said anything to you about not being attracted to me anymore?" She wipes her tears away roughly.