by Cassie Cole
In a normal situation, I would arm the alarm and then have two minutes to exit out of the back alley with the other employees.
But I had one extra task to complete.
Plenty of time, I thought.
I inserted Mr. Webber’s key into the special alarm-arming slot, then swiped my employee badge in front of the reader. The light began blinking to indicate that the two minute delay had begun.
It was a short walk to the back door, leading to the alley with the dumpsters. Cold air bombarded me as I pushed on the heavy door, and the pleasant smell of the department store was replaced with the sour-rotten smell of the dumpsters.
I wedged the shoebox in the door to keep it from closing. In the corner of the ceiling was a security camera aimed right at the door, but that couldn’t be helped. I just had to pray that the night security guard wasn’t watching at this moment, or that I looked like I was doing something related to my job. They would be more concerned with people taking things out of the store, rather than someone bringing things inside. Right?
I rounded the dumpster to retrieve my trash bags. They were right where I had left them, but there was a new problem.
There was a homeless man sleeping against one, using it like a big pillow. He wore a huge black coat and had a brown rat’s nest of a beard covering his face.
I winced, but didn’t have much time to fret about it. I grabbed the nearest trash bag and pulled it away. The homeless man did not move. I tossed it inside the building and returned for the second bag. The third one was the problem, since he was sleeping against it. There was no way to retrieve it without disturbing the man.
I took hold of the top and said in a meek voice, “Excuse me? Sir?”
With the intention of waking him gently, I gave my bag a small tug.
The man jerked awake as if the fire alarm had gone off. “What! Who! How in the…” he demanded, blinking rapidly and waving his arms around to grab something unknown.
“I need… I’m sorry!” I blurted out, pulling on my bag.
The man let out a drunken growl and grabbed the trash bag. A short tug-of-war ensued there in the alley. My grip on the top of the bag won, but not before he had torn a hole in the bottom. I whirled toward the door while the man shouted obscenities at me. Loose clothes were falling out of the hole, leaving a trail of my belongings behind me. I lurched inside, kicked the shoebox out of the doorway, and then let the heavy door close.
A few seconds later, the alarm system on the wall stopped blinking and changed to red. The alarm was now set.
“Son of a bitch,” I said while examining the bag. This one had contained most of my shoes and socks. And by the look of it, I had lost a bunch of them outside.
Three bucks got me two bags of chips and a coke from the vending machine in the employee lounge. I carried them back into the department and gazed around at the big, empty room.
Now to figure out where to sleep.
The only sitting surface in the locker room was a hard bench, so I went back out into my department. We had plush seats arranged throughout Women’s Fashion, but the idea of sleeping in a chair wasn’t very appealing. Neither was the thought of sleeping out in the open. I could make a nest inside the circular racks of coats, which would be like a little cotton igloo. I could even pull down some coats to sleep on and use as blankets.
I was wondering which coat rack would be the warmest when I heard a noise.
I froze and gazed around the huge room. It was creepy at night with the lights off. The noise had come from the front, by the glass doors I had locked. I slid behind a pillar and gazed out, keeping my body very still. Santa’s Workshop lit up the area out in the atrium, which made it easy to scan the area for movement. Had there been one last person in the men’s locker room? No, because the exterior locker room door was locked. Unless someone came back…
Two long minutes passed before I decided that I must have imagined the noise, or that it was something innocent. Big old buildings like this one had pipes and vents that shifted. Especially the ground floor, which had not been renovated in several decades. This was a pre-war building. The upper floors were a little nicer, most notably the Sporting Goods department which had just been completely redone back in—
I blinked. The Sporting Goods Department.
The employee lounge on each floor was connected by a stairwell. I took it to the fourth floor and peered into the department. It made me uneasy to intrude on the foreign territory of another department. Like snooping around in a neighbor’s house while they were on vacation. Necessity helped me get over that discomfort quickly as I walked through the dark room, past rows of baseball bats, tennis rackets, and golf clubs.
The camping gear was in the back-right corner. A little faux-campsite had been set up to showcase some of the equipment, including a two-person REI brand tent. I checked the inside, which was empty, then dragged the display sleeping bag and a battery-powered camp lantern inside. I had to duck down to keep my head from scraping the ceiling, but I could sit cross-legged inside with some comfort.
“Okay,” I said out loud while munching on my bag of chips. “This isn’t bad.”
Up until that point, I’d been keeping it together emotionally. The hierarchy of needs meant prioritizing shelter and food first. With those taken care of, I could finally allow myself to think about what had happened with Carl.
That’s when I checked my phone.
Carl: I can’t believe you just left. I guess our relationship wasn’t worth fighting for?
Carl: Typical.
Carl: I’m glad you’re gone.
Carl: Bitch.
The text messages broke something in me. Sure, I knew Carl was twisting things to make it seem like I was the one who had left, that it was my fault for not staying in the apartment hallway pounding on the door all night. But knowing something and feeling it in your heart were two completely different things.
It’s over. It’s really over.
There in my tent, alone in the department store, I cried.
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Cassie Cole is a Reverse Harem Romance writer living in Norfolk, Virginia. A sappy lover at heart, she thinks romance is best with a kick-butt plot!
Books by Cassie Cole
Broken In
Drilled
Five Alarm Christmas
All In
Triple Team
Shared by her Bodyguards
Saved by the SEALs
Forbidden Crush
The Proposition
Full Contact
Sealed With A Kiss
Smolder
The Naughty List
Christmas Package
Trained At The Gym
