Laura Drake - Against The Odds

Coordination. Another skill that she didn’t possess. Yet.

Travis handed out a list of outdoor events within a two-hundred-mile radius of the store, so they could keep their customers informed. He highlighted storewide markdowns and upcoming sales, then had each department head explain one of their lesser known items and its selling points.

Hope took notes.

He released them with a booming “Let’s go get people fired up about the outdoors!”

He paired Hope with another cashier, Grace, and in no time, Hope was ringing up sales. Maybe it wasn’t the most mentally stimulating job she’d ever held, but she enjoyed chatting with customers and trying to guess what some of their purchases were used for.

A few hours later, she checked out the last person in her line and then a leggy blonde employee stepped up to her counter.

“I’m Lori Olsen. Goddess of all that is camping. Can you do lunch?”

Hope glanced around. “Um. I’m not sure. Can I?”

Grace made shooing motions. “You go ahead. I’ll hold the fort and go when you get back.”

“Okay. I’ll be back in...” She reached under the counter and retrieved her purse. “How long do we have for lunch?”

“Forty-five minutes,” Grace and Lori said together.

“Okay. Lead on, Goddess.”

“No need for formalities. You can call me Lori.” She flipped a lock of waist-long golden hair over her shoulder and took long strides to the door.

Hurrying to follow, Hope couldn’t help but notice her lunchmate’s muscular thighs and heart-shaped butt.

Common. Her mother chimed into Hope’s thought. A lady never wears clothing that tight. Or revealing.

Maybe my butt will look that good in the uniform, after I try all these sports. That shocked her mother to silence.

Lori held the door. “You okay with eating at the drugstore? There’s a great café there.”

If Hope ate lunch out, it was always at The Farmhouse Café, with Jesse. But Hollister Drugs was just down the street. “I’ve never eaten there. Sounds good.”

“Oh, you’ve got to order a milk shake. Sin makes the best in town.”

Hope checked out Lori’s fat-free frame. “Where do you put them? If I drank a milk shake, it’d be on my hips in thirty seconds.”

“I’m a runner. Three miles every morning means I earn a treat for lunch.”

“Run? Morning? I’d rather just have a salad for lunch, thanks.”

They strolled down Hollister, Hope walking on the outside, ducking from under the canvas awnings of the stores they passed. The sun felt good, warming her naked thighs. She’d never owned a pair of shorts higher than the top of her knee before. They made her feel daring and exposed, all at the same time.

Kind of like my new life. Her mouth spread in what had to be a goofy grin. “Thanks for being the welcome wagon for a newbie.”

Lori walked to the glass doors of Hollister Drugs, and pulled one open. “I have an ulterior motive.”

“Now I’m worried.” Hope stepped in, but caught her toe on the doorsill, and stumbled into Lori. “Sorry.”

Lori caught Hope’s arm to steady her. “Hope was a much better name for you than Grace.”

“Very funny.” Heavenly scents distracted her. French fries, bacon and...was that hot fudge?

Beyond the cashiers, the aisles of products led through the store to the pharmacy against the back wall. But Hope’s nose directed her left, where an old-fashioned soda fountain perched in a sea of black-and-white checkerboard tile. The huge mirror behind it reflected the stacks of sundae boats and parfait glasses. All of the white wrought-iron tables were occupied.

Lori led the way through the babble of the lunch crowd to the bar where they snagged the last two seats. “Hey, Sin.”

The young woman behind the bar didn’t even look up. She dispensed a soda from the old-fashioned draft handle and flipped a burger on the grill at the same time. She wore a pink throwback A-line dress with a white frilly apron and pink pillbox cap perched on her turquoise shoulder-length hair. The rims of both ears were encrusted with studs and her lipstick and nail polish were lime green. “Do I look like I got time to chat?” She snapped gum like machine-gun fire. “The McDonald’s is closed for redecorating, and everybody got ravenous at the same time. Holy shit.” She planted a hand on her bony hip and pointed a spatula at Hope. Snap snap. “What’s her problem?”

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