The Thieves: Stealing Bethany

Chapter 2

Nothing too ground breaking in this chapter, but I had to cut it off before the juicy stuff in chapter 3 because it was getting too long. Basically...keep reading! Also, star, comment, follow     You know the drill ;)

Monday, September 15th 3:58 p.m. PST, 26 days to deadline

            As soon as I walked into the store I knew something was wrong. Brandon was unloading a box of swim trunks onto a rack, the aviators that permanently hung from neon yellow croakies around his neck swinging back and forth as he bent and straightened over and over. I’d never seen him touch a box of merchandise.

            “Brandon, what are you doing?”

            He didn’t stop, only tossed a look over his shoulder at me as I moved to the register to clock in. “We have a problem Beth.”

            “Don’t call me Beth,” I responded automatically, relaxing a little. Whatever it was couldn’t be too bad if he was still purposely annoying me with his terrible nick names.

            “I had to let Matt and Jo go.” That stopped me in my tracks. Matt and Jo were good workers. What possible reason could Brandon, who was seriously the most lenient boss imaginable, have to fire them?

            “Why?” I felt bad for Matt and Jo, but my main concern was purely selfish. Was my job in jeopardy too? Is that what he meant by “we” have a problem?

            Brandon grunted, a look on his face I couldn’t decipher.

            “Don’t worry about why. That’s not the problematic part. The real problem is that I’ve called every one of the applicants on file and none still want the job. No one on the day crew can work extra shifts and I’m stuck—” he kicked the half empty box at his feet, “doing menial labor. No offense.” He shot me a quick grin.

            I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh. Brandon was a forty-something beach bum with skin like leather from a lifetime spent in the California sun. When he wasn’t sneaking out of the shop to hit the waves, he stayed in the office doing, as he called it, “managerial stuff.” It was no secret that “managerial stuff” was code for playing solitaire.

            “Now I have to, like, advertise.” He shook his head, appalled at the idea he’d have to do even more work.

            I hesitated, debating whether or not I should tell him the thought that had hit me the second he said Matt and Jo were gone. My conversation with Dominic that morning had immediately popped into my head. Throughout the day, I’d paid more attention to Chance in the two classes we shared, but true to form, his head had hit the desk the minute the tardy bell rang and hadn’t moved until the dismissal bell.

            I had French with Dom after lunch, but we didn’t sit near each other. Other than a few smiles when I caught his eye, we hadn’t talked anymore today. Neither one of them seemed like they’d be a good employee. Then again, I needed help in the store. Who knew how long it would take Brandon to find new hires? I definitely couldn’t depend on his help up front. He’d already abandoned the swim trunks, retreating back to his office and leaving me to finish it.

            There weren’t any customers in the store, so before I changed my mind I went to the back and pushed open the office door. I halted in the doorway, blinking in surprise at what Brandon was doing. “Since when did you even know where we keep the cleaning supplies?” I asked. He was bent over the completely cleared off desk, a rag in one hand and a bottle of Lysol in the other.