Someone Like You

by Timothy J Beck

  “Derek, we have customers who require your attention. Is this your hat on the floor?” Natasha interjected, handing him his hat as if it were his head on a platter. “We’re here to make money, not stand around and—oh, Hershel! I didn’t see you. I thought Derek and Vienna were loitering on company time. As usual. I didn’t realize they were talking with you and—” She looked at Drayden, as if noticing him for the first time. “Mr. Lvandsson! It’s so good to see you again.”

  “Drayden, I’m sure you remember Natasha Deere, manager of Women’s Shoes,” Hershel said politely.

  “Of course,” Drayden replied. Vienna noted with satisfaction that Drayden made no move to touch Natasha. His arm remained fraternally on Derek’s shoulders while he said, “I was learning how lucky we are to have Derek on our team.”

  Vienna wondered to which team he was referring.

  “I’m afraid I might have to disagree with that assessment,” Natasha said curtly. Vienna scowled, especially when Natasha’s expression changed from dour to frosty delight as she continued. “While Derek may not be my best associate, he isn’t without his charm. In fact, I was going to recommend a transfer. Perhaps Derek would be better suited to Customer Service. He loves to talk on the phone, as Vienna can attest, since they’re constantly chatting with each other.” Before Vienna could protest, Natasha motioned to Derek and Drayden and added, “As you can see, Derek really shines when interacting with people.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re implying, Natasha,” Drayden said, pulling Derek in closer, “but I do agree that Derek seems to have excellent people skills. Perhaps those abilities are being squandered here, since there seem to be so few actual human beings in this department.”

  Vienna resisted the urge to gasp and cover her mouth, remembering that sudden noises and movements had caused Belle the bull to charge. Drayden locked eyes with Natasha, as if daring her to strike. Vienna noticed that Natasha’s jaw was set and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, as if straining not to stupidly lash out at the company’s namesake. Derek was pale, and Hershel looked equally uncomfortable.

  Drayden broke the tension by saying, “I think Hershel and I are being horrible hosts. It’s Planter’s Day Preview Night, and we’re so wrapped up in one another that we’re neglecting our guests.” He released Derek but took his hand, saying, “I look forward to seeing you again, Derek. You’re quite charming, and I’m sure you’ll go far with our company. In fact, I’ll see to it.”

  “It was an honor to meet you, sir,” Derek said and quickly walked away.

  “Ms. Deere,” Drayden said, “I’m quite dismayed by your lack of tact this evening. There’s an employee relations seminar in Chicago that I’m sure will benefit you. I’ll book you and forward the details. I trust that won’t be a problem?”

  Natasha said icily, “Not at all.”

  “Perfect,” Drayden said. Once Natasha skulked away, he turned to Vienna and said, “As for you, Miss Vienna, if we turn our backs on you for a second, somebody’s liable to steal you away from us. You’re obviously overqualified to stand behind a makeup counter.”

  “I can’t imagine who, or what, could tempt me to leave your store, Mr. Lvandsson,” Vienna said.

  “What a fantastic liar you are, Vienna!” Drayden exclaimed. “You can’t fool me. I couldn’t wait to get away from this business when I was younger. There’s nothing more boring than retail. I thought I’d die if I tried to live out my father’s dreams. But I’ve learned that other aspects of the business can be fascinating. The fashion, the people who buy it, the people who sell it. Once I figured that out and conquered my fear of failure, nothing could hold me back.”

  “Atychiphobia,” Vienna said absentmindedly.

  “Excuse me?” Drayden asked. When Vienna shook her head, he said, “I’ll be in town for a while. I’ll make it a point to see you again.”

  As he kissed both her cheeks, Vienna said, “I can’t wait.”

  “Once you’ve vanquished your demons, we’ll figure out a way to get you out from behind that counter,” Drayden said.

  “Who said anything about demons?” Vienna asked.

  “Perhaps I should’ve used the singular?” Drayden coyly asked. “Hershel, old man, let’s see if we can find Henrietta. I’ll get her to tell you the story about when she won a race against our neighbor in my father’s horse and wagon.”

  After Drayden and Hershel walked away, Vienna peered into Women’s Shoes. She couldn’t spot Derek among the customers and hoped Natasha wasn’t browbeating him. She returned to the Cosmetics area, wending through the crowd until she reached her counter.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Meg demanded. “I thought you said you’d be right back. I was starting to think you’d been captured and tortured.”

  “Something like that,” Vienna said.

  “You forgot our bottles of water,” Meg complained.

  “It’s okay,” Bianca insisted. “I’m sure if Drayden Lvandsson wanted to meet me, I would have forgotten, too. Not that he’d ever want to meet me.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll go get them,” Vienna said.

  “No!” Meg and Bianca exclaimed in unison.

  “Don’t be silly; I’ll be right back,” Vienna vowed and hurried away from the sales floor.

  24

  I’ll Take What’s Behind Door

  Number One

  Derek climbed the stairs to the second level of the stockroom. His head was pounding, his stomach felt inverted, and he wanted to throw up. He remembered those exact sensations from his rides on the Indy Cyclone when he was a kid. Every year when the garish little carnival returned to their shopping center in Evansville, Derek vowed he wouldn’t ride the Cyclone. Reuben and his other friends would taunt him mercilessly until he gave in. He still had occasional nightmares about it.

  As he stared unseeingly at rows of shoeboxes, it occurred to him that the Indy Cyclone was an apt comparison for his job. The punch of the time clock initiated the same dread he’d felt when the bolt slid into place on the ride. He could view daily life teeming around him, but he was trapped in a cage. Then the cage began moving in an endless loop, tossing and turning, sometimes suspending him upside down, then unexpectedly wrenching him upright before the next circuit.

  The Cyclone was also like Natasha, whose behavior left him nauseatingly addled. Within the duration of one shift, she might show him disarming sweetness, turn on him with vicious criticism, or ignore him altogether, treating him to icy indifference. Her behavior never seemed related to either his personality or his job performance. He didn’t need Vienna’s advanced degrees to know that his boss could use extensive psychotherapy.

  He slumped down, pulling his knees against his chest, grateful that Natasha had banished him from the sales floor, although she probably would appear any minute and begin screeching at him about his indolence. He puzzled over her earlier behavior. It seemed to him that as his manager, she should have been delighted to hear Drayden Lvandsson commending him. Instead, it had fine-tuned her hostility. She was determined to humiliate him in front of every customer he helped.

  Derek didn’t get it. If he’d been a stellar employee, he might have suspected that she felt threatened by him. If he was ever rude or unhelpful to a customer, she’d have been justified in protecting the store’s interests. If his behavior indicated a tendency toward laziness, treachery, or thievery—but he was average in every sense of the word. He wasn’t the kind of person who aroused great passion in others, whether anger, lust, hatred, or love. But if he wasn’t the cause of it, if it was just Natasha’s own demented personality, why was he the only one of her employees who had to endure her Sybil-like conduct? She either tolerated people or showed contempt for them. But he’d never seen her treat anyone else with the wide array of behaviors she directed toward him.

  He no longer cared when she did it in front of his co-workers. They understood how she was. As embarrassing as it was around Christian or Vienna, at least he knew they
were on his side. He didn’t flatter himself that any of his customers gave him more than a cursory thought. But the way she’d belittled him in front of Drayden Lvandsson was totally unprovoked and uncalled for.

  He tried to make himself invisible as the doors beneath him opened with a soft whoosh. He heard Natasha hiss, “How dare you push me—”

  “Listen, you officious, self-important viper,” a male voice cut her off, and Derek went rigid. “I’ve been watching you all night. You either back off of Derek Anderson or you’ll no longer be employed by the Drayden’s organization. Or any similar company. In any capacity.”

  “You wouldn’t—”

  “Don’t tempt me,” he said.

  Before Natasha could respond, Derek heard her name paged on their speaker system, and the doors whooshed again. He tossed his straw hat aside, clattered down the stairs, and headed for a different set of doors, reluctant to leave the stockroom and come face-to-face with Natasha. He didn’t want her to stop him from catching up with his defender and thanking him.

  He slipped through the stockroom door that was closest to the mall entrance and frowned when he realized that his view was blocked by the stupid bales of hay they’d stacked up. He stuck his head through an opening and saw his quarry walking toward the exit into the mall. He crouched down and darted in the same direction, hoping that if Natasha happened to glance his way, she wouldn’t spot him stalking the man who’d just threatened her job.

  Within seconds, they were moving side by side, invisible to each other because of the hay piled between them. As he reached the last stack, he was able to grab the man’s arm before he could leave the store.

  He saw a flash of shocked blue eyes turn his way, then he was being pushed backwards. When he extended his free hand behind him to brace himself against the wall, he felt a doorknob and instinctively turned it. The force of the other man’s movement propelled them both through the door into total darkness.

  “Where the hell are we?”

  Derek thought for a second, then said, “Storage closet. Behind the display window you can see from the mall.”

  Then he stopped talking because his mouth was full of another tongue. The kiss was so deeply fulfilling that it left his entire body throbbing with desire. Their mouths stayed locked together as overalls and suit coat were pulled off, shoes went flying, and snaps, buttons, zippers, and belts were negotiated. Then Derek laid back with a moan as the tongue finally abandoned his to travel down his body. After an eternity of being teased and tantalized, he heard the tearing noise of a condom wrapper. What began slowly and gently quickly intensified until both men’s ragged breathing ended in a tempest of moans and gasps as they collapsed together in sweaty, sticky pleasure.

  As much as he enjoyed watching his lover’s face when they had sex, fucking unexpectedly and spontaneously in total darkness with dozens of people only a few feet away was the hottest thing Derek had ever done with Hunter. He couldn’t catch his breath to say any of the things that were tumbling through his mind, including thanking him for his threats to Natasha. Or asking when he’d gotten back from Sydney. Or telling him how much he’d missed him over the last four months. Or apologizing for moving out and begging to come home.

  None of it mattered. Hunter had taken delicious possession of him again, and Derek’s senses were singing in an ecstasy of surrender. All he needed or wanted was to hear Hunter express his love. Then he’d do anything he was asked to do. But he understood Hunter well enough to know those words wouldn’t come easily. If he said it first…

  “Hunter, I have to tell you—”

  “You don’t have to tell me anything,” Hunter insisted. “Don’t talk. Not yet.”

  Derek relaxed in Hunter’s arms, allowing himself to enjoy the physicality of the moment. Hunter was right. As long as their bodies were so eloquent, they didn’t need words. Hunter began softly kissing his neck, moving up to his ears, then back down to his throat. Derek’s hands traveled over Hunter with purpose, until he heard the sharp intake of his breath.

  “I need to see you,” Derek moaned. “I need to see your eyes. I’m nothing but need; I need you so much.”

  Hunter pulled away and said, “Get dressed. Go tell that bitch that you quit. Or don’t tell her. Leave with me now.”

  “Why, Hunter? Why should I quit?” Derek asked, silently imploring, Tell me you need me. Tell me you miss me. Tell me you love me.

  “You don’t have to stand for that kind of treatment. You don’t need this job.”

  “Why don’t I need this job?”

  “You don’t need the money.”

  “Because you’ll take care of me,” Derek said.

  “Of course.”

  “I’m not quitting my job,” Derek said. “And I’m not moving back to the Congreve.”

  “Was it so bad that anything, even this, is better? Do you like being unappreciated and mistreated?”

  “Not anymore,” Derek said. “Do you have your cigarette lighter? I have to find my clothes. I’m still on the clock.” He heard Hunter rummaging around, then the click of the lighter. He avoided looking in that direction as the flame illuminated the darkness.

  “You’re really not coming with me.”

  Derek didn’t answer, getting himself back together while Hunter held the lighter aloft. The last thing he did was reach down and pick up the condom and the torn wrapper, dropping them into a Drayden’s bag so he could throw them away in the men’s restroom. Although how he was going to get there without being seen by his boss was a mystery.

  “See that door over there?” Derek asked. “If you crack it, you’ll get light in here from the display window. So you can see to get dressed. I have to go.”

  “Fine,” Hunter said.

  Derek dared a look at him, but just then the lighter flickered out, so he groped his way to the exit door and opened it, saying, “Call me sometime when you can talk without giving me orders.”

  After the door closed behind him, he leaned against it for a few seconds. He subdued an overwhelming urge to cry and looked down at the Drayden’s bag, realizing that he could easily slip from the store and go to the mall restroom without Natasha catching him.

  He hurried in that direction, grateful that no one seemed to glance his way as they loitered around Gert the fiberglass cow. When he went into the little hallway that led to the men’s room, the door of the women’s restroom opened and Vienna emerged.

  Derek squirmed as her gaze raked him from head to toe, then his face flushed when she said, “You might want to clean that…genetic material…out of your eyebrow before you go back to work.”

  He stared at her in an agony of embarrassment. “It was Hunter. I was with Hunter.”

  “I know,” she said. “I tried to let you know that he was in the store checking you out. But Natasha was watching you like a hawk. She picked up the phone every time I called.”

  “So you’re the stupid customer who kept calling with infuriating questions,” Derek said. “I thought her brain was going to explode.”

  “We should be so lucky,” Vienna said. “Anyway, I guess he caught up with you.” Derek nodded mutely, unsure whether to laugh or cry. “And it didn’t go entirely well. Your night has really sucked, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Derek concurred.

  “Why don’t you leave? I’ll clock you out.”

  “We could both lose our jobs for that.”

  “So what? I’d just move on to number twenty, or whatever it is. And I may be useless in affairs of the heart, but I’m great at vocational guidance. I could find you a better job in this mall faster than Natasha could say, ‘You’re fired.’ Go home and do something nice for yourself.”

  “All right,” Derek said reluctantly.

  Vienna reached into her smock pocket, shoved a sample of skin cleanser into his hand, and turned him toward the men’s room, saying, “After you wash your face.”

  Derek viewed himself in the restroom mirror with relief that no one but Vienna ha
d seen him looking so disheveled. His shirt was buttoned wrong. An overall strap was twisted and only half hooked. His hair stuck out in all directions and still had straw in it from that stupid hat. He definitely looked like he’d just gotten off the Indy Cyclone.

  After he made himself presentable, he trudged through the mall toward the Galaxy Building. Only Drayden’s was still open, for Preview Night, and his footsteps were abnormally loud in the large, empty space. He could hear the tinny sound of a radio playing, so he figured he’d be accosted by a security guard any minute. Then he spotted the source of the music.

  One of the Cart People, as Vienna called them, was sitting at a kiosk, humming along to the radio. Derek didn’t avoid the Cart People like everyone else did. He liked to think of them as the modern equivalent of gypsies, and he was usually interested in their pitches. Tonight, however, he wasn’t really in the mood, so he was glad it was after hours.

  As if in keeping with Derek’s gypsy concept, the man’s kiosk was designed to look like the traveling wagon of an old-time peddler. Derek saw the name “Nature’s Marvels” painted on the side. He watched as the man polished a crystal from among the collection of stones and rocks on the shelves of the cart. He also saw bottles of essential oils and flower essences, which amused him. The peddler really was the New Age version of a snake-oil salesman.

  The man glanced up, smiled at Derek, and said, “Did you lose your raft?” When Derek didn’t answer, the man nodded toward several paper containers of chili dogs and said, “These were left over when Sirius Dogs closed tonight. They were free. You’re welcome to have one.”

  Derek smiled. Eating a stale hot dog would top off his feeling that he’d spent a night at the carnival. He sat on the extra bar stool, took a bite, and examined the man’s wares.