Starting Over: The Broken Hearts Club

by Michele Barlow

  Her mother folded her clothes, commenting on every item, and discussing its merits. Her dad did his part by telling her jokes or worse, printing out jokes from the internet to have her read when she got home. That kind of stuff was okay on infrequent visits; but as a daily occurrence, it was wearing on her. Loving her parents and living with them were two very different things

  Cambry had made the hard decision back in New York to pawn her wedding rings. The diamond solitaire Miles had given her as an engagement ring she had sold to a high-end jeweler in New York City before she left. It was supposed to be her nest egg, but the legal fees for her divorce had depleted that chunk of money drastically. For some reason she had held on to the actual wedding band that had over three carats of diamonds that twisted around her finger.

  It was a beautiful ring, and she loved how it sparkled in the light. She also used to love the way everyone had commented on how lucky she was to have such a generous husband. Now that ring didn’t even fit on her finger. For a while, she had kept it on as a souvenir of her old life. It was a ring that didn’t take an appraiser to know what it was worth, when the light hit the fire inside the stones, the value was obvious.

  Still, she had it and couldn’t bring herself to sell it. It was stupid. It was worth so much and she chose to work two jobs and smell like grease instead of getting rid of it. When she was allowed to take her personal belongings, she loaded her Louis Vuitton suitcases with practical clothes. Not one gown, not one pair of shoes that she couldn’t stand in for more than ten minutes. Anything worth any value was seized. But that ring, it was still real. It was the last link to what she used to have.

  Looking over she saw Gordon waving at a car that had just pulled into the parking lot. Cambry grabbed the broom and dustpan and made her way into the dining area to start tidying up an already clean floor. Gordon would love to put on a big smile for new customers. She was happy to let him do that, her mind was somewhere else and she didn’t have the normal Twisty Cup enthusiasm that the customers might be looking for.

  Tonight was her first night at Monroe’s department store. She had been told that the dress code was business casual, but she honestly didn’t know what that meant. She decided to play it safe and wear her suit. It was an Oscar de la Renta that had become a well-recognized feature in the courtroom during her husband’s trials. It made her feel confident, and she needed that right now. Putting that suit back on was going to be tough, but it was no longer her armor against angry stares and legal woes. It would be her ‘getting on with her life’ suit.

  Miles wasn’t getting out of jail for a very long time, and he deserved to spend that time thinking about his choices and, hopefully, coming out with a new perspective on honesty. Cambry, on the other hand, was starting to feel that she might have gotten the life sentence in this whole thing.

  She had never felt so inadequate before in her life. Her suit wasn’t working. Her confidence was riding high as she gave herself a final pep talk before walking into the Human Resources office at Monroe’s. The HR person had been enthusiastic, oddly enthusiastic, now that she thought about it. It must have been about thirty minutes later that she discovered that working at Monroe’s wasn’t so different from the Twisty Cup.

  Having a twenty-something show her how to use the complicated computer register shortly after she arrived was embarrassing and only furthered her determination to make this job just a stepping stone to something bigger. She also got the unfortunate job of spending time in the stock room attaching security tags to clothing that she couldn’t imagine anyone stealing. Monroe’s was an average Middle America-style department store. They sold clothes, housewares, and tires. It was a ‘get it all here’ type place.

  “Kimber?”

  Turning from where she was kneeling on carpet that had likely never seen a vacuum, she saw her “trainer,” Landon.

  “It’s Cambry. Cam-Bree,” she enunciated.

  “Yeah, uh-huh. I’m gonna take my break. You need to cover the register.”

  “By myself?” The horror.

  “Yeah, if you have any problems just wait for me to get back.”

  “Wait for you? For how long?”

  Landon gave a shrug. “Dunno, fifteen?”

  Fifteen minutes staring at a customer that would most likely be getting angrier by the minute. Crossing her fingers that no one would come in; she stood up and put on a chipper smile. She was not a quitter.

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “Cool.”

  Landon shuffled away. There wasn’t any other good way to describe how slumped and lackadaisically he walked. It was though he had no place to go and was coming from nowhere too.

  Walking back out to the floor, she saw only a few people milling around. She’d sat through a training video that had covered clocking your hours, how to give the Monroe’s ‘service with a smile,’ and then a horrendously long section on employee theft and how horrible it was and how they would ruin your life if you were caught. It was terribly cheerful and made you want to be a model employee. At least, that was the intent.

  The video had barely touched on shoplifting. Then again, they had Burt, the security guard that was half standing half leaning on a stool by the front door and appeared to be sleeping with his eyes half closed. Squaring her shoulders, she made her way around to the few people asking them if they needed help. She was greeted with sharp no’s, a grunt, and a woman that just stared blankly at her.

  Returning to the register, she started fussing with the desk. It was filthy and featured a layer of dust so thick she could write her name in it. It was a hazard of working around paper and cloth, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t keep the area tidy.

  As she worked, she thought about the texts she had gotten from her girl squad wishing her good luck. They were on a group messaging chat that would terrify any mortals that came across it. Fifteen women, currently all talking and commenting on different things. Tonight her phone was full of hearts and four leaf clovers. Her girls had her back.

  “Excuse me?”

  Cambry shook herself out of her thoughts and looked up to see a tall, handsome man that was sporting a meticulously groomed short beard. He had piercing blue eyes and jet black hair. He was wearing a black motorcycle jacket and had set his helmet on the counter.

  Holy crap, he rode a motorcycle. The chances it was a Vespa were slim. Nope, gorgeous, leather wearing, motorcycle rider.

  Cambry felt her knees wobble. “Hello?”

  “Is that a question?”

  She blinked at him a few times. “Oh, sorry. It’s my first day. You’re the first customer that has actually spoken to me.”

  “Well, that’s a shame.” He smiled at her and she felt her knees wobble again.

  Damn it.

  “Can I help you? And please don’t tell me you are ready to buy something because I’ll be honest, the register kinda freaks me out.”

  The man let out a chuckle. “Good news then. I haven’t found what I’m looking for yet. I need a suit, nothing fancy, but I need to find something tonight.”

  “I can help you with that. There isn’t anyone in the men’s department right now, but I can show you around?”

  Did sales people show people around? She didn’t think so, but the words were coming out in a rushed, unsure manner that she couldn’t seem to stop. Smiling awkwardly, she started walking towards the men’s section assuming that he would follow behind her. That thought prompted another. Was he staring at her ass? Her skirt was fitting a tad tighter than it had a year ago. But why would he be doing that?

  Reaching up she tried to tuck the strands of her blonde hair back into the braided bun she had at the back of her neck. It was a severe style, but she didn’t want leftover food smells to come wafting out of her unwashed hair.

  “So, a suit? Special occasion?”

  “Not exactly. A funeral, my Great Aunt died.”

  Cambry came to a screeching halt and whipped around to face him. Her eyes were wide and she
could feel tears welling in her eyes. Why this stranger saying his aunt died would hit her so hard was a sign of her fragile mental state.

  “I’m so sorry!”

  He smiled. “Don’t be. She was ninety-five and went down cussing and drinking the way she wanted. She lived a good life and she was ready to go. Not all deaths are bad.”

  “Of course, I’m still sorry. It’s sad, but…”

  “Really, it’s fine. But I’m worried if I show up in my jeans, she’ll haunt me forever. That’s why I need the suit. I probably won’t ever wear it again anyway.”

  “So, affordable, but still decent?”

  “Exactly. I’m Evan Brantley.”

  He stuck out his hand and Cambry reached for it. “Cambry Sinclair,” she said stumbling over her last name.

  He raised his eyebrow at that. “Did you just make up a fake name for me?”

  “Sorry, I just changed my last name and it’s hard switching gears in my head,” she explained.

  “Married? Congratulations.”

  Cambry practically tripped over her heels. “Oh, no, divorced actually. Took my family name back.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  She stopped at a rack of suits and turned back to him. “Not all divorces are bad.”

  So many reasons to end a marriage. She was grateful that hers wasn’t because of abuse or infidelity. There were much worse reasons to get divorced.

  “True. It can still be disappointing.”

  Cambry didn’t acknowledge that. But he was right. Disappointing. It was a great word for how she was feeling. She couldn’t muster any more anger; she had burned most of that out in New York. Sad, sure, there was a little of that still. Mostly she was disappointed. Her life currently was a hot mess of epic proportions and the only positive thing about it was that she had control over what came next.

  “Yes it can,” she admitted. “Here is the best we have to offer. And I’m stating that as a new employee based on the fact it’s the only rack of suits we have.”

  “These should work. I’m a 40 long and nothing too flashy.”

  “Pinstripes or no?”

  “Not, please.”

  Cambry pulled out a few options and handed them to him. “Do you need a shirt and tie?”

  “No, those I have plenty of. My kids give me a hard time if I don’t wear an interesting tie.”

  “How many do you have? Kids I mean?” she laughed.

  “Good thing you didn’t ask about the ties because I honestly don’t know. Kids, I currently have twenty-three.”

  Cambry gave him a frown. “I’m sorry, twenty-three?” Was he a sperm donor?

  “Yes, I’m a kindergarten teacher. I got in the habit of wearing themed ties when I was teaching because honestly I had no clue what I was doing when I first started. Now it’s become an expectation and my kids love when I have new ones.”

  He was a freaking kindergarten teacher. A motorcycle riding, kindergarten teacher. Cambry couldn’t wait to text the girls.

  “The fitting room is over there.” Cambry thought for a millisecond to follow him in, just in case he needed something, but resisted. What was she going to do, check his inseam?

  “Thanks, Cambry.”

  Shit, he’d said her name. And he said it just right, all soft and warm. Soft and warm? She was getting a little too caught up in the dashing figure he presented.

  “No problem. Let me know if you need a different size or if I can help. I’ll… be around.”

  Chapter 3

  He turned to the dressing room and she looked at the mirror just besides the door. She looked flushed. Shit, her eyes were sparkly and her cheeks were in full blush mode. Damn, she’d never been able to hide that. Her emotions were directly linked to the blood vessels in her face.

  Worse she looked eager. Attractive, lonely salesperson attacks man in department store fitting room, would be all over tomorrow’s headlines. Creeping away to start straightening racks, she was still in earshot in case Evan needed her. Oh such as slippery slope to use that phrase. Was she so hard up that she was ogling a customer?

  Landon wasn’t back, and she couldn’t get caught using her phone to text the girls. Maybe she could take a secret picture of him when he wasn’t looking. That wasn’t weird, was it?

  “Cambry?”

  She felt a shiver, he remembered her name.

  “Yes?”

  “I need a woman’s opinion. My Aunt always said a man shouldn’t wear an ill fitting suit.”

  Turning towards the dressing room, she saw him standing in dark navy blue suit that was moderately priced and made out of a polyester Rayon concoction. On him, with his broad shoulders filling out the single button suit, it looked like it could have been a six thousand dollar wool suit.

  He’d left on a white t-shirt underneath the jacket and it made the look work. She swallowed and gave him an up and down.

  “Besides needing a nice break in the cuff, I’d say that fits you very well. Your Aunt couldn’t disapprove and I’m sure it will keep you in her good graces so she doesn’t feel the need to haunt you.”

  He gave her a smile that would melt the panties off any woman. Damn, she sure as hell had never had a teacher like him before. Her elementary teachers had all been middle-aged women that had been a bit road weary after dedicating their lives to teaching children. They also tended to have the scent of mothballs and perfume that hung around them. Nice enough, but they were no Evan Brantley. Oh, Mr. Brantley.

  That was so going to slip into her dreams. Her subconscious was already storing that for long-term use.

  “You sure? I don’t want to show up looking like a used car salesman.”

  “Trust me, I’m very interested in fashion and I happen to love a man in a good suit. This one was meant to be yours.” Love a man in a good suit? Did she just say that?

  She hoped she wasn’t laying it on too thick. Although her first sale going to a hot guy buying a suit had to be some kind of good employment karma.

  “Uh, do you need something, man?”

  Cambry wanted to spin around and punch Landon in the face. Of course he’d show up.

  “Why no. Cambry here has been incredibly polite and helpful. I’ll take the suit. Is there someone that can do the hem for me?”

  “Uh….” Landon seemed stumped by this question.

  “We have onsite alterations here. Let’s get you rung up and see how quickly we can get the hems done for you.” Cambry wasn’t going to let Landon take over this sale.

  “We do?”

  Cambry ignored her “supervisor” and smiled at Evan. He gave her a wink and went back into the dressing room.

  He freaking winked at her.

  “You know that guy?”

  “Nope, just met him. Can you show me where the number to the alterations is?”

  “How’d you know about that?”

  “I researched the company before I interviewed. Didn’t you?”

  “Nah man, my unemployment counselor showed me the ad. I figured, what the heck, that can’t be hard. I mean it’s clothes, right?”

  “Right.” Cambry wasn’t going to attempt any more conversations with him. Keeping it to work only seemed to be a good bet.

  She walked back to the counter and picked up the binder under the counter that Landon had pointed at.

  Flipping it open she found a page of numbers that had been originally typed but now was scratched out and rewritten over and over in different pens and pencils. Finding one for alterations, she waited patiently for Evan to return.

  Landon wandered off possibly to work, possibly to smoke a joint in the loading dock. She didn’t know and didn’t care.

  Evan returned and laid the suit on the counter. “This was much easier than I expected. The blue will be nice. Aunty never liked black. She said funerals looked like a bunch of crows standing around waiting to pick your bones.”

  “Vivid,” Cambry laughed. His aunt sounded like a funny, smart lady.

  “The f
uneral is Saturday; can the hems be done in time?”

  “It’s only Tuesday, I’m sure they can fit you in,” she said as she dialed the number.

  Cambry couldn’t help but glance up at him while the phone rang. He caught her and she blushed and looked down.

  She knew what she looked like…eager.

  Evan knew he was staring at something special. And he was staring. He couldn’t help it. This woman was adorably flustered by him and he thought it made her look stunningly beautiful. She was gorgeous to start with, but when her eyes got big as soon as he walked up, then her cheeks turned a sweet shade of pink, he was lost.

  He wasn’t the type to flirt with random women. He was always polite; some said he was even charming. Cambry made him want to turn up his game. Except he really didn’t have a game. He rarely dated, since most of his potential dating pool came from his student’s single moms. He knew better than to fall down that rabbit hole. His free time was spent outside hiking, going to the gym, or riding his Harley.

  She’d said she was divorced, and it sounded like that had been fairly recent. It should send him running, but he didn’t care about that. This woman was so interesting, and right now he didn’t care if the ink was still drying on her divorce papers. She was dressed in a suit that he wasn’t sure was purposefully tight, or it was just his lucky day. Her ass was curvy and full, he could only imagine what it might look like bent over in front of him.

  He was a bit of a dog, but usually only in his mind where no one could see. He had to always keep his outside actions PG, and this woman was making it really hard. Thinking about her bent over made him want to adjust the front of his pants. It was getting a little tight. He wasn’t blind, so he had been interested in her as soon as she turned around to lead him to the clothing rack.

  He wanted to grab her and kiss her. It was a crazy thought and would assuredly end with him in handcuffs, as he well should be. Damn, he wanted to taste those plump lips. She had a wariness in her eyes that looked like she was hiding something. Like there might be a little bit of a show she was putting on to cover up something else.