“Did you see our latest product?” I ask the middle-aged guy with the thick bushy mustache. He’s looking at my father’s patented weight loss supplement like it’s about to jump out of the bottle ad bite him.

“Erm, no, I did not,” he drawls.

“It’s a great blend of amino acids, vitamins, minerals, and our secret selection of supplements that’s guaranteed to help you lose ten pounds in ten days.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really? Ten pounds in ten days, guaranteed?”

“That’s right,” I say, forcing a smile and pushing the vomit back down my throat. “Come right this way…”

The guy doesn’t buy anything in the end, which is no shock. He didn’t seem like a moron, and only morons buy my dad’s products. It’s all so clearly snake oil marketing bullshit, especially with the little caveat on the back basically stating that none of their claims are backed by the FDA and buyer beware.

I hate peddling this shit. It makes me sick but I need the money, and it does pay pretty well. Trying to get people to part with their hard-earned money for this crap kills me though. It’s not going to help them, except maybe through the placebo effect. Everyone thinks there’s some magic pill out there that can just fix all their problems, but the fact is, there’s no pill.

I’ve learned this the hard way. The only solution is hard work. That’s what I did in my hockey playing days. That’s how I got onto Notre Dame’s team and how I made it into a decent spot in the KHL. Although I didn’t make it with the NHL, I still got pretty damn far in professional hockey. Now I’m working hard again, doing my physical therapy and coming to this shit hole of a job, trying to get back on my feet.

Although being on my feet’s the problem. My shifts are eight hours and I’m on my feet the whole time, which means by the end, my knee’s aching.

“William.”

I turn my head to spot my manager, this horribly conceited guy named Tim, watching me.

I sigh. I was leaning up against a display, trying to take some weight off my throbbing knee. I stand up straight.

“How many more times am I going to have to ask?” He glares at me. “I know you’re the boss’s son, but come on. Follow the rules.”

“Got it,” I say to him, when really I want to knock his fucking lights out. “I’ll do my best.”

“Just don’t lean. And smile more. You look pissed all the time.” He turns and walk away without another word.

“That’s because I am pissed all the time,” I mutter under my breath.

My coworker Lamar grins at me. I smile back. He’s a decent enough dude, and he hates Tim as much as I do, which makes him a solid ally as far as I’m concerned.

But this whole fucking thing is humiliating. I used to be a professional hockey player. Yeah, it was overseas, but still. I was playing the sport I loved the most and I was getting paid to do it. Now I’m working for my dad in a dead-end sales position in a store I absolutely loathe.

But Addie’s right. It’s time to grow up. Just because I move out of my father’s house and support myself doesn’t mean I’m giving up on my dreams. It’s just practical and realistic to start taking care of all this shit.

I haven’t had to be a real adult, not yet at least. When I was in Russia, everything was provided for us. The management of my team found me an apartment with another international guy, they sent us rides to practice and back, and they even cooked us team meals most days, especially when we were on the road. I didn’t even do my own laundry, the team sent a service for that. We really were taken care of, and I didn’t have a single worry in the world.

I know that’s not real life. Most people don’t have a cleaning person come in and do their laundry for them. I was spoiled because I was a professional athlete, but all that’s changed now. My knee aches and my back’s getting there, and I’m as far from the pros as I’ve ever been. But I’m accepting it and I’m starting to grow the fuck up.

I put a smile on my face and help another customer, and another, and soon the day slowly passes by. My shift ends at seven, and by the time six fifty rolls around, I’m practically itching to clock out and go home.

I’m leaning up against another display case, massaging my knee slightly, when the door opens and shuts. I glance up, wondering if I have to convince another poor sucker into buying some magic beans, and instead my heart starts racing.

Addie spots me right away. She walks over with a big smile on her face. She’s still clearly wearing her clothes from work, and she looks so fucking sexy in a simple skirt and blouse. It’s crazy how attractive I find her, even when she’s not even particularly dressed up. It’s just the way she moves that makes me so crazy.

“Hey Will,” she says. “Working hard?”

“Hardly working,” I say.

She grins, and I suddenly feel super aware of that khaki pants and the stupid blue polo shirt with my dad’s company logo on it. I look like such a fucking dork and I hate it, but it’s the uniform and I can’t change anything about it.

“I’ve never actually been in here before,” she admits. “Isn’t that crazy? Your dad’s owned this place as long as I’ve known you and I’ve never come in.”

“No reason to,” I say. “You’re not in the market for boner pills.”

She grins at me. “Do you really sell those?”

“Sure, although we call them male enhancement pills.”

“Do they work?”

“Probably about as well as everything else here.”

She laughs again and I feel a little bit better, just seeing her smile. “Well, it’s cool that you got a job.”

“Thanks,” I say, and check my phone. “I’m off in a few minutes, wanna meet me outside?”

“Trying to hustle me out? I see how it is.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to end up buying me boner pills, and we both know I don’t need them.”

She blushes slightly. “Asshole. I’ll be right outside.” She turns and flees the store, and I’m standing there, grinning to myself. Lamar gives me a look and I just shrug.

“A friend,” I say.

“I’d make her more than a friend real quick,” he answers. “Seriously man, that’s a fine piece of—”

“Okay, okay,” I say, laughing. “I get it.”

He laughs with me. “You know her a while?”

“Yeah,” I say, a little distant now. “Feels like forever.”

He’s about to say something else, but Tim comes out from the back and we both have to go pretend to be busy or else deal with him.

My shift ends not long later and I clock out immediately. I gather my stuff up and head out through the door. “Later,” I say to Lamar.

“Later, man.”

Addie’s sitting on a bench in a small open courtyard to the left of the store. I head over to her and she looks up, smiling at my approach.

“So, how is it?” she asks as I sit down next to her.

“Demeaning, demanding, and degrading,” I say, rubbing my knee.

“Ah yes, the three D’s of retail.”

“I don’t even know why I took this job, if I’m honest. It’s pretty bad.”

“How’s the knee?” she asks, noticing me rubbing it.

“Aches,” I say. “Standing all day isn’t exactly great for healing.”

She nods, looking a little concerned. “Did you have to take this job?”

“Probably not, but I don’t know what else I’d do.” I sigh a little bit. “Besides, it’s time to grow up, right?”

She narrows her eyes at me for a second, and I think she’s trying to read my face. I give her a grin though, acting like I’m joking, even if I’m not.

“It must’ve been nice, getting a couple more years to be young and play hockey,” she says.

“It was,” I admit. “But this is what everyone else deals with, right?” I gesture around us at the little shopping center.

“Right,” she says. “I just never took you for a responsible guy.”

I laugh and shrug. “Can’t really deny that.”

“But you’re trying. I mean, you have a shitty job. Welcome to life.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Sucks though. My manager’s a dick.”

“That’s pretty par for the course. I think everyone needs at least one shitty job in their life.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“I don’t think you can appreciate the good stuff if you don’t experience som eof the bad.”

“Heh,” I say softly. “Well, we’ve both experienced enough bad already,y don’t you think?”

She’s quiet for a minute. I feel bad. I didn’t mean to send her on a trip down memory lane, back into that basement and her abusive parents.

“Anyway, listen,” I say, trying to pull her back. “I need to do something fun.”

“Yeah? We live in Weston. What’s fun?”

“We could go to the beach,” I say.

She hesitates. “The beach.”

“Yeah, over in Westport.”

“That’s for all the rich people,” she says.

“But we’re allowed. Weston people can use the Westport beaches.”

She hesitates a second. “I guess we could,” she says. “I remember people in high school talking about going.”

“It’s nice,” I say. “Quiet and all that.”

“Okay,” she says finally.

“You should bring Cara. Has she ever been to the beach before?”

Addie hesitates, clearly surprised that I suggested she bring her daughter. Truth is, I want to get closer to Addie, and I know the best way to do it is by getting close to her daughter, too.

“She hasn’t, but maybe some other time,” she says finally. “You don’t want a baby tagging along.”

“Please, I don’t mind.”

“Well, I don’t want a baby tagging along,” she says with a laugh. “Julissa can watch her.”

“Okay then. Whatever you want.”

She smiles at me. “But it’s sweet of you to invite her.”

“Hey, I get it. You’re a package deal. If I want t keep seeing you, I better make friends with your daughter.”

She nods a little, grinning more. “That’s right. And speaking of her, I better get going. Bedtime is soon and I don’t want to miss it.”

“Alright. Well, thanks for visiting me.” We stand up and I give her a rough little hug. “And never do it again, please.”

She laughs and walks off, waving as she goes.

I hate that she saw me in there, working that stupid retail job, but I think it’s a good thing. I want her to see me as a responsible person. She’s a mom now, and I bet she doesn’t want to risk letting some frat boy hockey player back into her life, let alone her daughter’s life.

It’s so strange. Addie makes me want to be a better person, and we’re not even together. Just being around her again is bringing out the best in me in ways I never envisioned.

I smile to myself as I head back to my truck, already starting to picture Addie in her little bikini.