four: trapped

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The last twenty minutes of my shift could not go any slower. It feels as though every second is a minute, every minute an hour, until seven o'clock hits and I let out an audible sigh of relief when I hotfoot it to the office to stamp out. The manager – Trey, the weedy guy who hired me – hands me several crumpled ten dollar bills when I sign and date the shift sheet.

"See you tomorrow," he says. "Good job today. Keep it up."

"Thanks."

"Ten to six, Monday to Friday, is your official shift," he says, writing it down as though I'll struggle to remember, "but we're open eight to eight and if you wanna work twelve hours, you'll be paid for twelve hours. If you need to come in late or go early, you tell me or Lani." He adds two cellphone numbers to the bottom of the note.

"Lani?"

"Kaylani," he says drily. "And she's my niece, ok, so watch yourself." He hands me the slip and says, "You're not gonna get fired for the odd short shift – we need all hands on deck – but don't push it."

"I'll take all the hours I can get," I say as I pocket the cash, mentally tallying how much I can make if I work twelve hours a day. I'm not even sure it's legal for me to spend all day on my feet and get paid under the table but I don't care. It's only for a few weeks.

"That's what I like to hear," Trey says. With that, I head out feeling on top of the world. I have a hundred and ten bucks for eleven hours work, despite shadowing Kaylani for the first four and taking thirty minutes for my free lunch in the garden center's café.

I'm almost jogging to head out to the parking lot, where Storie's waiting, when Kaylani catches my elbow and I jerk to a stop. Her expression doesn't change. Partly bored; partly amused.

"There's a girl waiting for you outside," she says. I stare at her.

"I know," I slowly say. "That's kind of why I'm heading outside with my coat on."

"I think she likes you," she says. "Good luck."

"It's complicated." I don't know why I say that, but I'm gone before she can say another word. I throw a goodbye over m shoulder, but I don't look back.

It's freezing out here. Like, seriously freezing. I can feel my skin icing over the moment I step outside and my coat doesn't help much when the elf suit is so thin. It feels like a cheap Halloween costume from the dollar store and does nothing to protect me from the wind that rages through the trees.

A short honk grabs my attention. Storie pulls up in the same car she had last time I saw her. She waves me over and pats the empty front seat, and I dash in beside her before the cold can do any damage. My coat whips around me as I try to sit, battling the gale, and the heating stings when I shut the door.

"Hey," she says. Her little finger grazes my thigh when she puts the car into drive and does a tight U-turn in the parking lot.

"Hi." It comes out as a breathy sigh.

"Long time since you sat there." She glances at me for half a second. Her eyes are so beautiful, black coffee irises that reel me in and hold me in a trance. Her gaze drops to the hint of green peeping through my coat. "I have a lot of questions."

"Me too."

"Kris's place is only ten minutes away. We'll talk when I've dropped Jaz off." She grins at the mirror. "You ok back there, Jazzy Pear?"

He nods and yawns, his head lolling against his headrest, and he jams his thumb in his mouth.

"He's adorable," I murmur. "As if you have a brother. That's crazy. How old is he?"

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