Love and Lingerie

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Love and Lingerie Page 26

by Lacey Black


  She checks the sizing. “It’s a small. Are you saying I can’t fit into a small?”

  “Not at all,” I tell her honestly. “Every woman is shaped different, and sometimes you wear a certain size shirt but a different size bra.”

  Felicity rolls her eyes. “I’m sure I’ll be just fine,” she growls as she takes the red ensemble and heads to the dressing room. Just the thought of her trying on the pieces makes me want to fumigate the store. I’ll definitely have to hand-wash them in the back if she doesn’t purchase them. And something tells me, that outfit isn’t going to fit her the way she’s expecting it to. She’s too…top heavy.

  I stand outside the dressing room, like I always do, ready to offer assistance, if needed. Felicity, however, is a professional at getting in a bustier, and before I know it, she rips open the curtain and struts into my shop, wearing nothing but the red corset and its matching red lace thong.

  I should be completely shocked she just struts out into the store, where anyone can see her, wearing next to nothing, but I’m not. First, it’s Felicity, and I’d expect nothing less. But mostly it’s because the outfit looks…bad. Like really, really bad. Like a busted can of biscuits BAD!

  “Umm,” I start, not really able to find the right words.

  If I were being completely honest, Felicity actually has a lot in her favor. She’s pretty when she doesn’t completely overdo her makeup, her hair has long, natural curls that everyone fawn over, and her body isn’t bad. It’s not perfect, but hell, whose is?

  What draws my attention though is how bad this outfit makes her look. It doesn’t complement her natural curves and beauty – at all! As expected, the top is too small. Her boobs look painfully uncomfortable and lack the natural plump appearance a corset can give you. And her waist? Oh, God. It’s way too tight and gives her a horrible muffin top over the panties. I’m almost embarrassed for her.

  “Well, I’m not really sure it’s right–” I start to say, but am cut off.

  “I’ll take it!”

  My mouth opens, ready to argue with her. I know the customer is always right, but this outfit just isn’t for her. Maybe if it were in a medium, it wouldn’t look like a marshmallow seeping out of the sides of a s’mores graham cracker. I’m saved from trying to talk her out of it when she turns to face the mirror on the wall (not the one in the actual dressing room, mind you) and says, “Latham is going to swallow his tongue tonight when he sees it.”

  And that’s when everything around me seems to crumble. My vision blurs (probably from the tears I didn’t know were so dangerously close to the surface) and my ears fill with static. Getting air into my lungs seems like the hardest job in the world right now.

  “Oh, you didn’t think he was over there, pining away for you, did you?” she sneers, a vindictive grin on her face.

  I don’t say anything. I can’t.

  “Lathy and I have been spending a lot of time together lately,” she continues, shrugging her shoulders and running her hand seductively down the bodice of the corset. “We’ve been dancing around each other for too long now. When he asked me out, I knew it was time to take our relationship to the next level.” She stares at her reflection in the mirror, but I can feel her eyes on me. When they connect in the reflection, she adds, “He’s been over you since the moment you walked away.”

  My throat closes and my vision blurs again. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I look at the woman in front of me, wearing horrible lingerie and a malicious smile, and I realize I’m not angry. I’m sad.

  For her.

  I take a step closer, ignoring the ringing of the bell over the door. “You know, Felicity, someday, you’re going to meet someone who loves you for who you are, not who you’re trying to be. Quit with the manipulating and the man-stealing. That’s not love. In fact, you’ll never know what love is because you don’t love yourself first. Maybe when you finally realize all of your evil and nasty isn’t who you really want to be, you’ll finally experience the life and love you’re meant to have. Until then, you’re just a shallow, horrible person who gets off on making everyone around her miserable.” I glance down at the hideous red outfit. “I feel sorry for you.”

  Then, I turn around, coming face to face with my best friend, and say, “I’m going to take a break. Can you finish helping this customer?”

  Free doesn’t say anything, just gives me a reassuring smile as I head toward the door. I don’t grab my purse or my keys, I just need air. I need space.

  I need a hug, dammit.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Latham

  I’m pissed.

  Samuel, Jensen, Rhenn, Dad, and I have been setting up the new space all morning, getting everything ready for the big reveal and grand opening next week. It’s hot, tedious work, but it’s going smoothly, considering I have a lot of extra hands to help move in all the new shelving units, build the metal display structures, and start to stock the shelves – or most of them. We’ve put our noses to the grind and have gotten shit done.

  Until Felicity disappears.

  “Where the fuck did she go?” I bellow in the empty (fortunately) store.

  “Latham, settle down. I’m sure she’s around here,” my dad says, always trying to appease me. He heads to the back of the store once more, while I head out the back to see if she’s in the lumber yard.

  She’s not there, of course, so I head back inside. “Anything?” I ask, coming in the back door.

  “No,” Dad says, scratching his head.

  “Knowing Felicity, she went for a coffee run or something,” Jensen says, and he’s probably right.

  “Did she tell you she was leaving?” I ask my dad, who just shakes his head.

  “You guys go back to the addition and finish up. I’ll stay up here and man the counter,” he says.

  “You’re retired, old man,” I smart off, a smile on my face.

  “Pfff, that might be the case, but I was running this place when you were still shitting yourself at home. I think I can manage to ring out a few customers over the next hour or two,” Dad retorts with a wide smile that matches my own.

  “Thanks,” I tell him, following Harper’s family into the new part of the store. It doesn’t go unnoticed when I called in for reinforcements this morning, her family came running. I called Samuel, who was all too thrilled to help put the finishing touches on the building. He had stayed last night to help, and it was only fitting he was here for the final steps. And when he told me he’d make a few calls for manual labor, I wasn’t surprised to see Jensen and Rhenn in tow.

  “Let’s get this done,” Rhenn says, slapping me on the upper back and heading back into the other room.

  I follow the guys, loving the nearly finished product of a long week’s hard work. The building itself was in great shape. It was an open space, which didn’t require much demo. The biggest part of tearing out the old drywall and exposing the beautiful brick underneath, just the way Harper and Free suggested. The rest of the interior work was a quick refinish of the floors and some updating in the storage area.

  Now, we’re setting it all up – or at least, most of it.

  Some of the areas, primarily the front of the room, will have to wait. New product is expected to arrive very soon, but I’m still taking extreme care of making sure the area is just right. Rhenn helped me carry in the two large units, and they’re positioned front and center, facing the new window. I can practically see the new stuff on the shelves, in prime location for patrons.

  Jensen and Samuel have been focusing on the back half of the room. The younger brother was like a kid in a candy store when he started unboxing and setting up all the new outdoor tools. He knew my general concept, and from what I saw each time I popped back there, he’s following my ideas to a T. He’s also made a few tiny changes, grouping items together that are more logical, and arranging items on the shelves for convenience of the shopper.

  Rhenn and I b
ring in the final touches to the front half of the room: the bench storage. Dad helps hold the doors, which is a tight fit, but we make it. Just as we’re setting it down by the window, I hear the bell sound over the door. I pay no attention to who’s coming in, especially because Dad’s over there to help, and keep my focus on reassembling my bench.

  “I’m back!”

  My back straightens and I glance to the doorway between the two buildings. Felicity comes flitting in, shaking her hips like it’s her fucking job. She’s wearing a bright smile, flashing her pearly whites at anyone who glances her way. It’s what’s in her hand that has my full attention now. She’s carrying a white bag with a familiar logo on the side. My heart starts to beat like a fucking snare drum in my chest.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” I ask, my tone harsh and aggressive.

  “Shopping!” she coos, waving her Kiss Me Goodnight bag in front of my face.

  “Why? You’re on the clock,” I state, crossing my arms over my chest.

  Felicity rolls her eyes. She actually fucking rolls her eyes at me, and it takes everything I have not to wrap my hands around her neck and squeeze. “I was taking a little break,” she says with big doe eyes.

  “You had already taken your morning break, right? You aren’t scheduled to take lunch until one. Why the fuck did you leave without telling someone?” I know I’m being a dick, but you know what? I don’t care. She has proven to be a subpar employee, at best, and frankly, I’m fucking done.

  “I’m sorry,” she whines, twirling her hair with her available hand. “But hey, good news! I found something for later,” she smiles widely and bounces, her hand now resting on my chest. She steps forward, way too fucking close for my liking, and digs her fingers into my pec. “Maybe you can come over later tonight. You know, and see what I bought?” Then she bats her I-want-to-suck-your-dick eyes and smiles seductively.

  I shiver, but not in a good way. Just the thought of seeing her in whatever’s in that bag has me seeing red. No way in hell. The only woman I ever want to see wear something from that store is the owner.

  “You’re fired.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them, not that I’d want to.

  “What?” she gasps, tears welling in her heavily made-up eyes.

  “You heard me. You’re fired. Get your shit and go,” I state bluntly before turning around and heading back to my current project.

  Felicity starts to argue and cry, but I ignore her. I hear my dad talking, hopefully taking care of escorting our former employee from the building. Rhenn doesn’t say a word, just tries his damnedest to hide his smile. He fails.

  We get the rest of the bench in place and anchor it to the floor. When I’m sliding in the last screw, Dad comes over and stands next to me. “That was blunt.”

  “She needed blunt,” I tell him, glancing up at him for the first time. “She gone?”

  He nods. “Yeah, I helped her to her car with her bag and purse. She was a bawling mess, probably more for my benefit than because she’s that torn up over losing her job.”

  “She’ll be fine. A woman like that will find something else before the end of the day.”

  Dad laughs and slaps my back. “You’re probably right. Now, come on, guys. Kitty brought some lunch for all of us.”

  “And I can’t wait to see if the cushions fit the bench,” Mom says as she walks up behind Dad, wrapping her arms around his waist. My gut clenches as he gazes down at her as if she hung the moon and all the damn stars. They have the perfect relationship, one I’ve always secretly admired. It’s what I’ve always strived for, wanted for myself, just wasn’t sure I’d ever have.

  After eating a quick lunch with the guys and Mom, making sure the cushions fit and are positioned perfectly, and cleaning up the addition, my parents head home to enjoy the rest of their Saturday afternoon. The guys aren’t too far behind them and start to make their way to the door. “Thanks for helping,” I say to each of them, reaching out and shaking their hands before they go.

  “Just make this right,” Samuel says with a pointed look.

  “I will,” I reassure him, praying I didn’t just tell a lie.

  “Good luck,” Jensen adds, slapping me on the back before stepping outside.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re gonna need it,” he teases with a wolfish grin.

  “According to Marissa, she’s working on inventory tonight,” Rhenn says quietly, yet making sure he’s loud enough I hear.

  “Thanks, man,” I tell him with a nod.

  As I lock the door, I watch the guys get in their vehicles and head home. Rhenn’s heading home to Marissa, Jensen to his mom’s to get Max, and Samuel off to shower and head back to work. Before flipping off the lights, I take one last peek at the new space that will officially open to customers on Monday.

  Hopefully.

  There’s one minor tweak yet to be made, or at least I pray like hell it’ll be made. If it doesn’t, then that means I failed. That Harper’s not in my arms. That she’s not in my life for good.

  And that’s unthinkable.

  I head up to my tiny apartment to shower and get ready for the biggest mission of my life: Operation Win Back The Love of My Life.

  It’s going to be a bitch, but I won’t settle for anything less than her in my arms again.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Harper

  After leaving the store, I find myself wandering through the trail on the edge of town that leads to the falls. Rockland Falls, the very waterfall our town was named after. I’ve always loved it here, with its breathtaking view, lush green plants, and fragrant scent of the outdoors. It’s one of the things I missed the most while I was in New York.

  After firing off a text to Free, letting her know I was going to be a little bit and I was fine, I take some time to sit, watching the water beat against the rocks before smoothing out to the stream, and reflect on everything that’s happened. Seeing Felicity in my shop, hearing her talk about her date tonight with Latham just pushed me over the edge. It was a blatant reminder things don’t always work out the way you plan.

  Me? I started to plan a future. One with the sexy closet computer geek next door, who runs his family’s hardware store with the singular goal of turning around a struggling business. I never heard that from Latham, but from Mr. Douglas. Not too long before he announced his retirement, he mentioned business was down. Everyone would rather drive a half hour away to a larger city to shop at a big box chain store just to save a few dollars. I understand it, really I do, but it still sucks balls.

  Then, Latham stepped in, bringing with him ideas and dreams of expansion. More space means more product. More product means more consumers, a bigger draw of customers. That part I understand. I get why he needed the building. As hard as it is to admit, I think their business needed it more than my own, and in a way (not that I’ll ever admit it aloud), I’m glad they won, and I pray it all works out for them in the end.

  The part I don’t get is the lies. He didn’t need to sleep with me to get information. Hell, he never asked for it. What could he have possibly gained by sleeping with me, if all he wanted was information?

  As I gaze up at the cascading waterfall, the light bulb goes on.

  He didn’t need to.

  He didn’t sleep with me for information or to get the building.

  He slept with me for me.

  Then why the hell didn’t he say that? When I asked him, he never spoke a word. He never told me I was way off base, never told me to shut up and listen to him, never told me to stop with my crazy nonsense.

  He kept quiet.

  Probably because I wouldn’t let him speak, and he tried.

  I sigh deeply, wondering how in the hell I’m going to get out of this heart aching mess I’m in. Maybe I should stop by, give him a chance to come clean. Even if he tells me he really did screw me for the wrong reasons, at least I’d know and I could move on, instead of b
eing trapped in this perpetual state of limbo.

  Checking my phone one last time, I hop off the rock I’m perched on and set out for the walk back to work. Thank God I wore somewhat comfortable sandals today. No, they’re definitely not hiking appropriate, but at least I won’t have huge blisters on my feet like most of my other shoes.

  By the time I make it back, Free’s already gone and the store locked up tight. She took care of everything for me, including closing out the receipts and backing up the laptop, dropping off the deposit in the slot next door, and tidying up the mess I made when I was pricing the new pajamas. I head over to where they all sit on the counter and find my size. They’re made from a thin, breathable cotton you’ll probably be able to see through, but that’s okay. In the heat of summer, sometimes wearing just the thinnest layer of material is the best way to sleep.

  Knowing I have several hours of inventory to complete, I head to the back and decide to get comfortable. I throw my long hair up in a high ponytail and strip off my work clothes. Underneath, I’m wearing a basic white cotton bra and matching white cotton boy cut panties. I didn’t even have the energy to put on anything pretty this morning. It was all about the comfort.

  Ripping off my bra, I slide the tank top over my head. I opt to keep the panties on as I pull the shorts up my legs and tie the drawstring around my waist. I glance over at the mirror and can’t help but smile. Sure, the reason I bought these pajamas is because of the soft material and super amazing comfort value, but that’s not the only reason. Written across the black tank top in a rainbow of colors are the words Kiss Me Goodnight. It was fate when I saw them in the online catalog, and at a discount to boot, considering we’re already approaching the end of the summer shopping season.

  After getting into the appropriate ‘ready for inventory’ outfit, I head to the mini fridge for a bottle of water. When I open the fridge, I spy a new container with a note attached.

 

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