Candyman

Chapter 4 - Candyman

"Oh my god. Oh my god! You're dating him. You're going on a date with your hot customer!" Ashley fired off in rapid succession.

"I am not dating him," you tried, the excitement of the call draining out of your body and into the floor. Fuck. So much for trying to keep things quiet and separate.

"He FaceTimed you from his bed!" She practically yelled and you had to reach out to try and shush her.

"He..." and you hesitated, knowing that the truth was less damning personally but much worse professionally, "He asked for my number after the appointment. Like you keep saying, he's hot, so I gave it to him. I didn't think he would actually call."

"But he did call! From bed!" and she clapped for emphasis. Was that really necessary? "And now you're going on a date with him. Girl, you better look fucking hot, you can't blow this for the rest of us who will have to live vicariously through you."

You tried your hardest to ignore her as you took your seat back at the bench. No one was going to live vicariously through you, that was for damn sure. You didn't even want any of them to know. But now Ashley did, and she was the biggest gossipmonger in the whole store. You prayed a silent prayer that Steve would never actually come in again and put it in your mind to tell him to not FaceTime you at work.

But still, that tiny bubble of excitement in the pit of your stomach refused to burst. So many things were right. He called. He wanted you to come over. He tried to seduce you. He set a date when you were going to see him again. He called you beautiful, and smart, and made damn sure your brain was hijacked by thoughts of him and only him. If the visual of him getting out of the pool the day before wasn't enough, then seeing his bedding just barely high enough on his hips to keep him modest was. God, could a man like that actually exist? Cool, confident, too charming for his own good, gave you the butterfly feeling in your stomach, and was wrapped up in the perfect god body? Steve Rogers was just too much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lunchtime was more than welcome. You were dying to get out of that noisy repair room, Ashley choosing every date and slow jam song she could think of to play as loud as she could. The way she could hold a secret, you expected the entire store to know by the day's end.

But, when your brain wasn't creating scenarios where Steve fed you strawberries in bed, your thoughts drifted back down to the envelope. Practically falling down the stairs, you made your way to the break room and grabbed your bag from the locker, settling into one of the empty chairs at the table. A few others were sitting near, but most everyone had headphones on or were watching something on their phones. Discreetly you found the bill from the night before, folding it neatly in half and shoving it into your wallet before lifting the flap of the envelope.

2

4

10

13

15

Right? You counted them again, opening the sides wider to make sure you could get an accurate count.

Fifteen $20 bills... "What the fuck..." fell softly from your lips.

20, 40, 60, 80, 100.

20, 40, 60, 80, 200.

20, 40, 60, 80, 300. $300, $400 with the tip he left on top. Steve had paid you for the tech support and paid you way more than your agreed upon dinner. He paid you nearly a third of your paycheck for maybe 40 minutes of actual work. The rest of the time you were there was spent talking with him, getting to know him and spending time with him. $400 for 40 minutes was outrageous.