Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Hmmm, what’s going on? Brad’s house has a security camera installed facing the front door, which is hooked up to an app on my phone. It’s useful because I can see delivery people come and go, leaving packages at our doorstep. If any thieves come by, they’ll be recorded. But then, I’m jolted from my reverie.
“No phones on the retail floor!” barks a voice behind me, making me jump. But to my relief, it’s not our manager, Greg, whom I detest with a passion. Seriously, could a person be more gross? Greg always looks greasy and puffy, and he wears his Mickey’s blue vest with pride because he loves being a part of “management.” To be honest, he probably makes only a tiny bit more than a sales associate, but you wouldn’t know from the way he preens and parades around the store.
Fortunately, it’s not Greg though. The person who made me jump is Elissa, my co-worker and friend. She giggles when she sees my reaction.
“It’s just me,” she breezes with a grin, which I return. “What are you doing?” she adds, peeking over my shoulder at my phone screen.
“I’m waiting for an Amazon package to be delivered, but no sign yet,” I reply.
“Oh really?” she asks with interest. “Why, is something exciting coming in the mail? Oh my god, I hear Dyson came out with this hot new barrel iron that gives the perfect beachy waves. Have you tried it yet?”
I shake my head. Elissa’s really pretty with big brown doe eyes and long, wavy brown hair that she styles each day. Like me, she’s sassy and curvy, and it’s one of the reasons we get along so well. We’ve both thrown the skinny image to the wind and embraced our full, luscious bodies, basking in body positivity. After all, beauty comes in all forms, and it’s something we try to embody every day while interacting with customers.
“I just want to make sure my package doesn’t get stolen,” I shrug.
“In that fancy neighborhood of yours?” Elissa exclaims with raised eyebrows. “That’s not likely!”
“You’d be surprised,” I sigh. “Some of our neighbors have recently had packages disappear. So I just want to make sure.”
“I totally get that,” Elissa answers, pretending to help me with the display so she can carry on chatting with me.
“Besides,” I continue, “it’s Brad’s fancy neighborhood, remember? Not mine.”
“Sure,” she shrugs. “But you still live there. Which is such a sweet deal by the way. He still hasn’t brought up you leaving?”
“Nope.”
“Maybe he loves that you still live there,” she giggles.
“Not likely,” I say with a wry smile.
“Why not? You’re a sassy, curvy young girl and he’s a stud. Of course he loves having you around!”
“I don’t think I’m his type, Elissa,” I say with a pointed look.
“Of course you are,” she rolls her eyes. “You’re every man’s type!”
“No, I’m not. Besides, you’ve met my mom before,” I reply. “Brad dates women like Janice: slim, leggy blondes.”
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy some eye candy of a different kind. He’s a man. They don’t discriminate like that.”
“Well, he barely even notices me. To him I’m just some kid. Trust me, that’s the way things are.”
“Hey, look!” Elissa suddenly exclaims, pointing at my phone. The screen now shows an Amazon delivery guy leaving a package on the doorstep and scanning it. The package is a huge, six foot rectangular box.
“Whoa, what did you order?” breathes Elissa. “Is that a coffin?”
My eyes bug out as the oxygen escapes my lungs.
“That’s not mine,” I muse. “I’m waiting for, um… something smaller.” I don’t tell her that I ordered a few outrageously skimpy lingerie items, inspired by the ones worn by the dolls I’d seen scattered around Brad’s home office last night. They had cut-outs to show off a woman’s nipples, and one pair of particularly sexy panties were actually crotch-less. My thighs squeeze together at the memory. But now in the cold light of day, I realize how ridiculous my order was because it’s not like Brad would ever see me in the lingerie. What an idiot I can be sometimes. But Elissa has no idea and scrunches her nose at the enormous box on our doorstep.
“So if that’s not yours,” she hums, “what did Brad order then?”
“I have no idea,” I lie. After what I saw last night, I’m certain the delivery box contains a sex doll because what else would come in a package that size? But should I tell Elissa that? What if she thinks he’s some kind of freak? I suddenly realize that I feel protective about Brad. Well, not protective, exactly. That’s not the right word. But I certainly wouldn’t want anyone thinking badly of him. That’s a startling realization, and it surprises me. I’ve had the hots for Brad since I met him, but so far it’s been entirely physical. I really don’t know the alpha male at all, so where are these feelings coming from? Maybe I should share my suspicions with Elissa because I’m so confused at the moment.