Free Swag Bags and Swindlers by Dorothy Howell Page B

Sandy said, rolling up a rug. “I was just wondering if you’d met Lani, the girl who does them.”
    I vaguely remembered Jeanette saying someone by that name was the person I’d be working with.
    â€œShe’s, you know, kind of weird,” Sandy said.
    â€œWho’s weird?” Bella asked, as she walked over from the bath department across the aisle.
    â€œLani. The orientation girl,” Sandy said.
    Bella shuddered. “That’s one weird chick, all right.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with her?” I asked.
    â€œShe’s quiet, kind of keeps to herself,” Sandy said.
    â€œYeah, weird,” Bella said. “Why are you packing all this stuff up?”
    â€œA new line of merchandise is going in,” Sandy explained.
    â€œYou want to hear some crap?” Bella asked.
    I always wanted to hear some crap.
    â€œI had a date with a new guy last night,” Bella said. “He fell asleep on my sofa watching television.”
    â€œOh my God,” Sandy said. “What did you do?”
    â€œWent through his wallet,” she said.
    â€œSo, did he have much money?” Sandy asked.
    â€œHe was loaded,” Bella said.
    â€œWhat does he do?” Sandy asked.
    â€œI don’t know. He can be a drug dealer for all I care. I’m dating him again,” Bella said.
    We’ve all got our priorities.
    â€œMaybe you two will get married,” Sandy said. “Hey, Haley, that reminds me. Have you picked out your wedding colors yet?”
    I cringed. “I’m not getting married.”
    â€œBut you caught the bouquet,” she said.
    We’d been at a wedding not long ago and I’d caught the bouquet. Sandy kept insisting a marriage proposal was in my future.
    I guess the toughest part of that whole ordeal was that Ty had showed up at the wedding. We’d acknowledged each other with a glance and a nod, which was totally awkward, but we hadn’t spoken.
    Thank goodness he hadn’t brought a date.
    â€œWhat about you?” Bella asked Sandy, and I was grateful she’d run interference on my behalf. “What happened with that guy you met on vacay?”
    â€œSebastian?” Sandy sighed and her expression took on a dreamy air. “He’s really cute.”
    â€œDamn right,” Bella agreed.
    â€œBut I already have a boyfriend,” Sandy said, looking a little sad.
    â€œYou should dump that loser,” I told her, for at least the zillionth time.
    â€œOr date both of them,” Bella suggested.
    â€œThat wouldn’t be right,” Sandy insisted.
    â€œWhen did you become Saint Sandy?” Bella asked.
    â€œMy boyfriend is an artist,” she said.
    â€œHe does tattoos,” I pointed out.
    â€œIt’s art, Haley,” she said. “And I wouldn’t think of disturbing his bliss by causing a problem in our relationship. He says I’m his muse.”
    Bella shook her head. “I’m out of here.”
    She went back across the aisle to the bath department. Sandy and I managed to stretch out loading the merchandise until closing time so we wouldn’t have to wait on actual customers. I got my handbag—a Dooney & Bourke barrel that always lifted my spirits—from my locker in the breakroom and was headed for the front doors when I spotted Jeanette at the customer service booth.
    I knew she was counting on me to help out with the new-employee orientation and carry a full work schedule when swarms of crazed shoppers descended during the upcoming holiday shopping rush. But I wouldn’t be here. As quick as Priscilla at L.A. Affairs got the words “full-time-permanent-employee” out of her mouth, I was going to quit Holt’s
    It hit me that the decent thing to do was to forewarn Jeanette so she could either work on her the-entire-Holt’s-chain-will-collapse-without-you speech, or practice her backflip because I was leaving.
    Really, I was pretty sure I knew