Love Songs Box Set

I Can’t Get No Satisfaction-3

“Georgie, I need you to restock the citrus, please. Lemons, grapefruits, oranges. They cleaned us out yesterday,” my very pregnant boss Darlene said to me when I reported for work at five o’clock on a Thursday morning. My shift would end at one-thirty in the afternoon. “Once you’re done, set up a display for gala apples and kiwi, okay? Oh,” she added as she glanced at the clipboard in her hand, “we have a new manager starting today, Ry Archibald. He’ll be taking over for me when I go on maternity leave next week. He’ll be in around eight.”

I nodded before she moved on to hand out assignments to the others. I found an apron, and as I pinned my nametag on my polo shirt, I wondered if the guy would be a jerk. Darlene had been decent, as managers went, but she had been an oasis in the desert of fucktards and egomaniacs who’d paraded their way through here on their way to something “better,” which they never let us lower-rung folks forget.

Most of the people I worked with at this hour were zombies, just like me. I had to have two cups of coffee just to be awake enough to make the walk to the store. Even the murderers and rapists were asleep right now.

I waved at Buzz as I passed the meat department. He’d been here as long as I had, and loved his job. He was a burly guy, married to the man of his dreams, and had three kids through a surrogate and adoption. He’d been the only employee to befriend me, not put off by introverted behavior. We had lunch together most days, where I listened to stories about the shenanigans of his kids, and heard all about the mercurial nature of his artistic spouse. Sounded like heaven to me.

I got to work and forgot all about the new manager until Darlene called us into the mandatory employee huddle before the doors opened to the trendy, über professionals and stay-at-home parents who would soon grace the aisles of our store.

She clapped her hands to get our attention. “Everyone, today will be a great day. We’ll be professional and polite, no matter what—right, Randy?” She stared pointedly at the redhead who tended to be a bit terse with rude or clueless customers. I didn’t blame him.

He shrugged and grinned.

“And,” Darlene continued, “last but not least, let me introduce you to our new produce manager, Ry Archibald, who’ll be taking over, starting next week. He’ll be shadowing me for the next few days, and then he’s all yours, poor thing.”

That earned her a chuckle from everyone there, even me. We weren’t a bad crew. The few rotten apples we had were overshadowed by the good work ethic of everyone else. I looked at the new guy. He seemed familiar, though I wasn’t sure from where. I never went out, or at least I hadn’t since…hmm…

Ry smiled at everyone, his broad frame intimidating but…comforting, somehow. He caught my eye, and I swore he stilled for the barest of seconds before his gaze moved on. I probably imagined it. Anyway, it was time to get to work.

An hour after the doors opened, I took my “lunch” break and bought a couple of bean burritos at the employee discount rate before heading to the staff kitchen to heat them in the microwave. I purchased a grape soda from the machine next to the refrigerator, then sat next to Buzz.

“You’ve met the new manager, right?” he asked as he dug into what looked like homemade hash browns with vegetables, and three slices of toast with butter. He was a big fan of carbs.

“Officially, yes.”

“Hot, yeah?” he said as he dug into his meal.

I thought about it. “Maybe.”

Buzz rolled his eyes. “Are you human, honey? Happily married I may be, but even I can appreciate that splendid beast of a man.”

I had no response to that. It didn’t matter if I’d felt at peace, somehow, just having Ry Archibald nearby. He’d seemed…familiar, but I was certainly not in his league. “I’m human, alright, but I’m also a realist. Guy like that probably has somebody already.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.” Did I mention Buzz was a gossip queen? “Florence over in beauty told Patricia in baked goods who told me half an hour ago that Trent, the hussy at customer service, asked Ry if he was gay or bi or poly and single.”

I shook my head. “Trent is in heat twenty-four-seven.” He was a hot little number and he knew it. He’d slept with almost every willing male employee in the store, except Buzz and me—I didn’t meet his standards, he’d apparently told Buzz, and I knew my friend had no intention of straying from his husband. By all accounts, Trent was a good time, according to the grapevine. He had absolutely no shame, I thought, or maybe I was a little bit jealous of his ability to go after what he wanted, fearlessly.

“Exactly. Anyway, apparently Ry had smiled at him and said, ‘yes, I’m gay and single,’ and before the man could walk away, Trent had handed over his name and number on the back of a receipt.”

Wow. Even for Trent, that was fast work. Didn’t mean Ry would go for it, but what did I know? I still felt a little twinge in my chest at the thought. I rubbed the spot. I’d never reacted that way to anyone before, except that one time when I’d lost my virginity.

“He’s an adult. I’m sure he can handle himself,” was all I said, and finished my burritos.

“Maybe you should give it a go. He’d bend you in half and you’d probably howl.”

I tried not to blush at his words. “I doubt that’ll ever happen. I’m no one’s prize.”

Buzz huffed in annoyance. “Stop saying that. You’re cute as a button with hidden depths. Come on, Georgie. You’ve worked two jobs for years and never complained, though I know you’re unhappy. You need something more in your life. Someone. It makes me sad to see you wasting away. You’re way too young for that.”

“I’m twenty-six, thank you very much.”

“You look eighteen, for which I hate you, by the way.” He winked, so I knew he was kidding.

I smiled. “I know you mean well, Buzz. I’m okay, promise.”