Forever With You

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Forever With You Page 2

by Jess Mastorakos


  “You know about that?”

  “Of course, we all know. We go in there as much as you do, man. That’s the owner’s daughter you scorched.”

  I threw my head back. “Perfect. Now they’re gonna start spitting in my coffee.”

  “Or denying you coffee in general.”

  “Can’t have that. What’s her story?”

  Cooper shrugged. “No clue, man. She just showed up that day. I didn’t even know they had a daughter until I asked Zack who their new girl was.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Heard Staff Sergeant tell you to find a grad female. You should ask her to come in for an interview.” Cooper suggested, wagging his eyebrows. “Best case, she joins, and you get a contract and she’ll probably move away. Worst case she’ll come in for an interview and it’ll look good to the higher-ups.”

  I put my hands on the back of his desk chair and gave him a hard shove back to his own desk. “Wrong. Worst case is that she turns me down for both and I’m embarrassed as hell.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time you embarrassed yourself in front of her,” he supplied, unhelpfully. “What do you have to lose?”

  3

  Sara

  I flipped the sign on the window to the ‘closed’ side and leaned my forehead against the cool glass. It had been three months since I was left at the altar. I had good days and bad days, like anyone, I supposed. Today was definitely a bad day. It was like the whole city had gotten a secret invitation to the store for themselves and a date. Not just any date, but a date they were madly in love with. And the instructions on the invitation had said to make the poor loser who worked at the bookstore want to die.

  Turning back to the empty store, I put my hands in my pockets and really gave it a good look for the first time since I’d arrived three days ago. It was a large store, both wide and deep. Books lined the cherry shelves along the walls and filled the displays peppered throughout the store. There were plush couches and chairs strategically placed in sections where people liked to linger, and the children’s area in the back had a train table and picnic benches for story time. The cafe was halfway down the wall on the left, with a long counter so people could sit there or at the tables nearby. Free Wifi signs topped each table, and there were plenty of outlets for students to plug in and do their work.

  It didn’t look anything like the store my parents had first opened when I was in middle school. They were good at updating it with the times and showcasing popular trends and genres. They even changed out the decorations regularly to stay fresh. I was impressed with them, I had to admit it. They’d built an amazing business over the years, and it had all started with my dad’s dream of running his own business and my mom’s love of reading that she’d passed on to me. Guilt settled into the pit of my stomach, and I worked to push it away.

  The biggest difference between the early days and now was the cafe area itself. That had been my spineless ex-fiance’s idea. I’d brought him home for Christmas two years ago to meet my parents, and he’d commented that they could get a lot more traffic to their store if they used some of the expansive room for a small cafe area. They’d gotten to work immediately, and I remember being so proud when his idea had helped them go from needing to close to completely thriving. The busy days we’d had since I’d arrived were the only thing that kept me from being too bitter about Derek’s involvement in the cafe area. It was good for my parents.

  I shook my head and walked towards the back room to start my closing duties. I’d been spending ridiculous amounts of time at the store to keep from going home to my studio apartment alone. I gathered the trash from the back office in one hand and the larger bag from the cafe in the other and used my back to push open the door to the alley behind the strip mall. It was dark out, but the alley was well lit. As soon as I stepped away from the entrance to the store, I realized I hadn’t done anything to keep the door from locking behind me. I tried to catch it before it closed, but the heavy door slammed shut with a bang. I hung my head, trash bags in hand, alone in the alley.

  “Are you locked out now?” a voice from behind me said, not without humor in his tone.

  I turned to see the Marine who’d spilled coffee on me and let out a breath of relief. “Looks like it. Vince, right?”

  He laughed. “I’m surprised you remembered after all the chaos that day. I’m really sorry about that.”

  “I didn’t, I asked one of your Marine buddies the next day when he was getting his coffee.” I looked down, not sure why I admitted that. “Anyway, what are you doing out here?”

  He held up the stopwatch in his hand. “I’ve got poolees running laps around the parking lot. I’m timing them.”

  “What’s a poolee?”

  “It means they’ve signed their paperwork to become a Marine but haven’t left for boot camp yet. They come here every week to maintain their fitness until they ship out.”

  I nodded. “Got it.”

  “Here, lemme get those for you.” He stepped forward, tucking the stopwatch into the pocket of his shorts. “They just took off, so they’ll be a minute.”

  I let him take the heavier cafe bag and we took them to the dumpsters across the alley. He heaved the bag into the bin, then took the office trash from me and tossed it in. He brushed his hands on his shorts and smiled slightly, looking like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if he should. I studied him as we walked back over to the building. His hair was the usual military crop. He had on black Nikes, red basketball shorts, a black athletic shirt with the Marine Corps logo on it. The shirt was tight, and it hugged his biceps and the muscles in his back when he moved. He stretched, and the hem of his shirt revealed more muscles and lines on his lower abdomen. I averted my eyes, heat rising to my cheeks.

  A runner came around the side of the building, his footsteps light as he kept an even pace. He wore a bright reflective safety belt so cars would see him in the darkness. Vince clicked the stopwatch and called out his time as the runner kept going right passed us. I turned back to the direction from which he rounded the corner, expecting to see more runners.

  “He’s well ahead of the rest of them, I’m sure,” Vince said from behind me. “That guy is a machine.”

  “He’s in high school?” I asked.

  Vince nodded. “Yeah, just turned eighteen. He swore in during his junior year with parental permission and he’s been coming here every week to work out ever since. He’s finally leaving next month after graduation.”

  “And do you get some kind of extra credit for him being so fit?”

  “Hah, I wish. There’s no extra credit in recruiting. Besides, none of these guys are mine.” He said as a dozen poolees rounded the corner, as if on cue. We watched as they passed us, Vince calling out a couple of times for the group of them since they were all within seconds of each other. When they passed, he tilted his head side to side to stretch his neck.

  “What do you mean, they aren’t ‘yours’?”

  “Sorry, I mean I didn’t recruit them. There’s five of us recruiters in the office, and one boss. We each have our own ‘pool’ of applicants, or poolees, and they’re all part of the whole office’s ‘pool’. Usually, we work out with our own pools, but I’m new and I only have one contract so far. And he’s not here tonight. The rest of these guys were recruited by the guy I replaced when I got here a few months ago. So, I guess they’d be my adopted poolees.”

  “This is like a whole separate world with its own language and everything,” I said, gesturing to the door to his office.

  “Oh, trust me. Recruiting is a separate world from the rest of the Marine Corps, too. It’s so different from my regular job.”

  I crossed my arms to fight the chill of the cool night air. “You’re not a recruiter all the time?”

  “Definitely not. This is a temporary thing. I didn’t volunteer for it, but I was what we call ‘voluntold’ to come here. Know what I mean?”

  “I can kind of imagine. So, what�
�s your regular job?”

  “I’m a cook.”

  I blinked at him from behind my glasses. “Are you serious? The Marines have cooks?”

  He nodded. “They have to eat, don’t they?”

  I laughed. “I suppose so.”

  He crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. “What? Do you think I’m not so tough anymore now that you know I’m a cook?”

  I pushed his shoulder and we laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re still tough.”

  The fastest poolee rounded the corner again and we paused our conversation while Vince gave him his time and he passed us. Again, I looked for the rest of the group, but they were still trailing pretty far behind him.

  “Seriously though, do you like being a cook?” I asked, curious about his life now. For some reason I’d pictured him running around in the desert with a machine gun as a Marine, not slicing potatoes in a kitchen.

  “I do, actually. I’ve been to some pretty cool places, since wherever Marines are, they need to eat. My favorite was a deployment where we got to spend a long weekend in Italy. My mom’s side of the family is from there. Even though I mostly cook basic meat and veggies at work, I grew up cooking Italian food with my mom and nonna.”

  I smiled brightly, picturing him in an old-fashioned kitchen with his mom and grandmother. The image was the complete opposite of a stereotypical Marine. “I bet that was amazing.”

  “It was. I hope to be able to go back someday, or anywhere cool like that, but now I’m stuck here on recruiting duty for the next three years.” The rest of the poolees ran past us and he called out their times. “How about you? What’s your story?”

  My stomach turned, not sure where this would go or how much I’d be able to talk about. “Well, my parents own the bookstore.”

  “Yeah, heard that. I was worried they wouldn’t let me in there anymore after I spilled coffee on you. But they didn’t give me any trouble today when I stopped by.”

  “That’s good. I must’ve been on lunch; I didn’t see you.”

  His lips quirked up into a sideways smile as he looked right at me. “Nah, you were stocking books. I saw you.”

  I blushed and looked away, uncomfortable with the way my heart sped up at his words.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “so you just moved here? From where?”

  “Seattle,” I answered, digging my hands into the back pockets of my jeans.

  “Ah, nice. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

  “It’s not that great,” I said quickly, then chuckled nervously when he arched a brow at me. “I mean, it’s a fine city. I’m sorry.”

  “Sounds like it did a number on you.”

  I let his words hang in the air for a minute, not yet ready to open up to him. “So, I don’t suppose you know how I can get back into the store, do you?”

  Vince made a face. “Sorry. I’m not really in the business of breaking into bookstores.”

  “Guess not,” I allowed. “Well, my phone is inside. Can I use yours to call my parents? They have another key. I hate to bug them this late. I feel like an idiot.”

  “You’re human. Stuff happens.” He fished his phone out of his pocket, typed in the passcode, opened the phone app, and handed it over.

  “Thanks.” I dialed my parents’ house and stepped away from him, walking a bit down the alley as the fast guy appeared for the third time. I watched as he slowed to a stop in front of Vince, got his final time, and jogged over to the pile of Marine Corps water bottles in a group by the door of his office.

  “Hey Dad, it’s me.” I said when my dad picked up. “I’m on someone else’s phone.”

  “Hey, Sara. Everything okay with closing?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine… but I accidentally locked myself out of the store.”

  My dad chuckled. “Forget to prop the back door open while you were taking the trash out?”

  I groaned. “Yes.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ve only done that a dozen times over the years. I’ll come down and let you in.”

  The rest of the poolees rounded the corner and I watched as they also got their final times and went for their water bottles. It seemed like they were finished with their workout for the night, so I wondered if maybe that meant Vince could give me a ride to save my dad the trouble. He appeared to be saying goodbye to them, so I bit my lip as I weighed my options.

  “Actually, hang on a sec, Dad.” I jogged over to the crowd of sweaty teenagers and fought to keep from wrinkling my nose. Ugh, teenage boys were a rare breed of stink after a run. “Vince, sorry to interrupt. Do you think you could do me a favor?”

  He said his goodbyes to the guys he was with and walked over to me. “After dumping hot coffee on you? Name it.”

  “Can you give me a ride to my parents’ house to get the key? I feel bad making them come out. They don’t live far, but it’s late.”

  He didn’t even hesitate. “Of course.”

  “Thank you,” I said to him, then put the phone back to my ear. “Dad, a friend is giving me a ride. Can you just put the keys on the porch? Sorry again.”

  “Will do, sweetheart. And don’t worry about it, it’s no problem.”

  I got off the phone with my dad and held it out to Vince. “Thanks again.”

  He started to take it, then hesitated. “Wanna put your number in there while you’re at it?”

  “Ah...” I wrinkled my nose, unsure of what to say.

  Vince grabbed the phone and tucked it quickly into his pocket. “It’s getting late, let’s just get those keys and call it a night. Sorry.”

  “No, ugh, okay. I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t give it a second thought. Seriously, let’s pretend I didn’t ask.”

  “Okay, it’s just...”

  “No, really.” He smiled slightly. “Let’s go through the office so I can get my stuff and I’ll give you a ride.”

  I sighed and followed him through the door of the recruiting office. It smelled like sweat and dirt after the poolees had all passed through on the way to their own cars. It was decorated in the most patriotic color scheme of red and blue, from the walls to the carpet. There were war posters all over the walls and plaques and awards lining bookshelves. A TV was mounted on the wall that played a war movie, and Vince used the remote to turn it off before grabbing his keys, wallet, duffle bag, and briefcase.

  “Ready?” he asked me.

  I nodded, following him out the front door into the parking lot. While he turned to lock the door behind him, I silently berated myself for being so awkward with him. I figured it took some guts to ask me for my number, and we’d been getting along great. But I just couldn’t go there. Not yet, and probably not ever. Vince may be attractive, and funny, and kind... but so was Derek. And look how that turned out.

  4

  Vince

  “Moore,” Staff Sergeant Allen called from his office. “Get in here.”

  I spun around in my chair and headed to his office, bracing myself. “Yes, Staff Sergeant?”

  “Cooper said you were gonna get that grad female next door. Did you get her?”

  I tossed a look over my shoulder at Cooper, who’d been listening but quickly turned around when he saw me look at him. “Not exactly.”

  Staff Sergeant Allen held out his hands. “What are you waiting for?”

  “I don’t think she wants to–”

  “Seriously? You don’t know that. Your job is to get contracts, Moore. Not make assumptions about who would want to join. We need a grad female. Get her in here for an appointment.” He turned back to his computer, dismissing me.

  I stalked out of the office and straight for Cooper. “Really?”

  “Bro. He told me to recruit her. You really think we haven’t tried to recruit everyone who works over there? She’s no different. Just ask her to come in for an appointment. I did you a solid because I know you’re into her. You’re welcome.”

  With a heavy sigh, I plopped into my desk
chair and leaned back, closing my eyes. I could hear Cooper wheeling over to me. I opened my eyes to find him in his usual position of facing the back of this chair. He was just blinking at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Why are you being such a Weiner about this?”

  I scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s an excuse to talk to her. She’s hot... in that nerdy girl kinda way. What’s the problem?”

  “Ugh...” I knew I would regret telling him, but it didn’t look like he’d leave me alone either way. Cooper was one of those nosy, gossipy Marines. Whether you’re a grunt, in the Air Wing, in the desert, or on a boat—every shop had one. Turned out, this was one thing about recruiting duty that was similar to the rest of the Marine Corps. “Fine. I asked for her number and she turned me down.”

  Cooper burst out laughing. “Hah, wow. No wonder.”

  “Right.”

  He wheeled backward towards his desk. “Well, keep it professional this time. Maybe that will help.”

  I gazed out the window of the office and into the parking lot. Her car was there, so she’d be at the shop. I started to get up to get it over with, when I saw a guy and what appeared to be his girlfriend walking across the parking lot. I glanced at Cooper. He’d already gotten his two contracts for the month. I wondered if he’d let me call this guy if he came in as a walk-in.

  I nodded towards the parking lot. “Can we call dibs? Cuz if so, I’m calling that guy.”

  Cooper followed my gaze and chuckled. “You can call him, but he looks like a high schooler, not a grad.”

  Understanding dawned on me. If they’re out of high school, they’re up for grabs to anyone. But since each recruiter is assigned specific high schools in the area, the applicant automatically belongs to the recruiter who’s assigned to his school. I said a silent prayer that he went to one of my schools. I needed a contract. Especially after my ‘mission maker’ with the potential penicillin allergy had turned out to be a ‘mission breaker’ instead.

 

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