Traces of Delilah

Three

Did I want to keep the bracelet? Sure, it was pretty. But there was something else. I couldn't put my finger on it. Every time the bracelet ran through my head, something stirred in my gut. It was a piercing feeling that made me want to puke. Was that a sign I shouldn't have kept the bracelet? It felt wrong, but it wasn't wrong. Did that make sense? I wasn't sure. There was also the fact that the bracelet had someone else's initials on it.

Perhaps I was over thinking as usual. I guess there was nothing wrong with keeping the bracelet for myself. It wouldn't have been weird, would it have? I didn't think so.

I shook the negative thoughts of my head. It was okay. Everything was fine.

* * *

"Anywhere but here," I begged. 

I was close to dropping to my knees in a second. I had barely glimpsed over the sign on the store when I caught the word Mars, written in large white bold letters, included in the name. I knew who had the last name Mars. Mick mentioned it last night. And if this was his family's business, there was a possibility I had to work with him if I got the job.

"Listen, it's either here or fast-food woman." Skylar huffed. "Take your pick and choose wisely."

I groaned and folded my arms, contemplating my options. God, I couldn't imagine going back to a fast-food environment. My first, second, and last experience was horrible. Would I be able to torture myself like that again? The more I thought about it, the more it looked like a big hell no.

"Fine. Let's go," I muttered.

"That's the spirit. Atta girl! Think of it this way, the antique shop is just a few blocks away from here, so you can drop by whenever you need to." Skylar patted me on the back, a shit-eating grin covering her face. 

Sure, that made me feel so much better. Well, if I was being honest, it did make me feel a little better.

I rolled my eyes and followed her into the entrance of the store. 

The sports shop made up most of the hallway on the first floor of the shopping center. Sheesh, Andrew wasn't the only one who had some wealth to his family's background. 

I could've sworn Skylar mentioned this wasn't the only sports store the Mars family owned, when she was talking to me earlier. I believed she said there was another one mixed in with the stores along the street near the antique shop. I wasn't sure, I wasn't exactly listening to her. But I did remember her saying they invested in a lot of sports goods, so I assumed that was the case.

"Speak of the devil and she shall appear. What the hell are you doing here?" A familiar voice scoffed at Skylar. I turned my head, watching Thomas round the counter, to approach us.

"I'm trying to get my friend a job dimwit. Fuck off," she retorted. "Now, where's someone with some sense that I can talk to?"

He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "My dad's not here. You'll have to speak with me."

"Oh great," Skylar murmured. 

Was he the manager or something? I wouldn't have been surprised, since it was his family's business, but still. Did I have to work under him if I got the job? That sounded like a nightmare if he was going to act like this. Unless he was only like this towards Skylar.

My eyes lingered around the shop, taking in the wide space. 

The inside was similar to most of the Modell's stores I'd been in. They had it all, from basketballs, to footballs, to hockey sticks, to t-shirts and sweatpants, and the list went on. There were few cameras placed in the corners of the ceiling. But they were angled perfect enough to catch the center of the store and the blind spots.