Choice Buy’s doors opened to the public at nine. Emma wasn’t trained in customer service yet, so she retreated to the public workbench near the checkouts, which they called the Techie Titan Base. The horseshoe of neatly stacked equipment and paperwork was cut in half by a freestanding wall, the front half public, the back half private.
She lifted the gate to enter Base, grabbed the top couple work orders in the stack, and retreated behind the wall to begin setting up the first laptop.
As Emma worked, she chewed over Dr. Light’s rescuing her. And hadn’t his heroic save made her belly swoop delightedly? But then he’d retreated like she’d suddenly sprouted boils. She was at a loss as to why. What had happened? Had he seen the desire in her eyes and been uncomfortable, or worse offended?
But she’d sniffed the barest dusting of testosterone in the air.
If he’d been offended, surely she wouldn’t have caught that trace of desire.
Well, in the final analysis, it didn’t matter why he’d retreated, only that he had retreated. If he hadn’t, she might have considered asking him out for coffee, or a date, or a little hot man-on-shifter action… She clenched her eyes briefly. He was her boss and she needed this job. Let him make the first move if there was a move to be made. She’d just have to ignore her attraction in the meantime.
Work like hell to earn his respect.
She’d just resolved this when a voice said from the other side.
“Hello, ma’am. I’m Your Name. I mean, I’m Brant. How can I help you today?”
Emma popped to her feet. What was the saying—bad things come in threes? After the broom incident yesterday and the television incident today, this was a disaster in the making.
She came around to see Brant grinning at a red-faced customer holding a laptop without a case.
“This piece of junk doesn’t work. Your store sold me this crap, and I want my money back.” She slapped it down on the counter.
“Um…” Brant stared down at an open binder on the desk just below the lip of the counter. Emma sidled closer until she could just see the top of the page, where “Hello sir/ma’am. I’m Your Name. How can I help you?” was printed.
Emma figured it must be a decision tree manual.
Brant started flipping pages in the manual. Each page was labeled with a large cause, like Problem With Billing, Problem With Finding an Item. He stopped at Problem with Computer.
The first paragraph read, “Have you tried turning it off and back on?”
Brant raised his gaze to the customer with a grin, ill-advised from the blood coloring her face and the vein pulsing in her forehead. “Have you tried turning it off and back on?”
“Yes,” the woman ground out. “Several times. It won’t turn on at all! It’s a defective piece of crap even a toilet would reject.”
“Um, okay.” Brant threw a “help me” glance toward Emma.
She wasn’t trained in customer service, but she couldn’t leave the poor boy helpless. “Hello, ma’am. I’m Emma, and we’ll do everything we can to get your problem resolved. If you’ll just let me find a senior Techie Titan—”
“Look at it! It’s so obviously defective even I can see it.” The customer grabbed the laptop and flipped it over. “It’s got this huge hole in it!”
Emma stared. It did have a hole in it—because the battery was missing.
“Oh.” A totally inappropriate laugh rose in Emma’s throat. She kept it down, but she could feel her face get red. “Well, um…I’ll just go get someone to help you.” She raised the gate and spun out—only to nearly run into an impressive chest covered by yards of sweater vest.
Gabriel Light.
He’d heard the whole exchange.
Emma wanted to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. So much for impressing him. “Oh, Dr. Light. I’m glad you’re here. This customer needs some laptop help.” She raised her gaze.
“I see.” His blue-green eyes twinkled behind his glasses. Laughing at her—or with her? He turned to the customer with graceful aplomb. “Ma’am, I’m Gabriel Light. We’re here to help.”
Nothing Emma and Brant hadn’t done, but coming from Dr. Light, the phrases seemed almost magical. The customer’s red face ebbed and, for the first time, she smiled.
“What Brant and Emma were about to say is that you need a battery to power your laptop. Mr. Crandall, check in the back for part number…” He named a series of letters and numbers. Seeing Brant just standing there, Emma quick reached over the counter, grabbed pencil and paper, and jotted the part number down.
When she raised her gaze, Dr. Light was smiling at her. “Ms. Singer, if you could help him?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Just then Carol swept up. “Dr. Light, the man from the insurance company is here.”
“Ah, the claims adjuster. That was quick. Please take him to my office, and I’ll meet him as soon as I’m done here.”
* * *
After getting the battery and seeing off a now-satisfied customer, Emma ducked back behind the wall separating the public and private section of Base.
Several hours later, she was quietly working when she heard a voice.
“I’m worried, Pan,” Carol said from the other side of the wall. “I don’t know what happened. The Wrapphone was here last night when I went home. Maybe it just got moved?”
“Dr. Light and I searched the whole store. It’s definitely gone.”
The bass voice was roughened by a growl. It reminded Emma of the tall, black-haired man whose panther’s grace had been interesting—until Dr. Light’s entrance had wiped it, and everything else, from her mind.
“And you saw the detective,” the man called Pan continued. “He’s treating it like a crime scene.”
“He didn’t say it was stolen.”
“He won’t give anything away until he’s come to his conclusions.”
“Maybe. But he keeps glaring at me. Like he suspects me. It makes me nervous.”
“Don’t worry. If he accuses you, Dr. Light’ll set him straight.”
A brief silence. Then, sounding tentative, Carol said, “What did you think of the insurance adjuster?”
“Dickwad,” Pan growled.
Carol laughed, but it sounded a little nervous. “He seems to think one of us took the phone.”
Emma’s hands froze on the keyboard.
“Yeah, well, it makes unfortunate sense,” Pan said. “The building is locked after hours, and there’s no indication of a break-in.”
“But an employee theft? It’s ridiculous. None of the staff that’s been here for any time at all would do that to Dr. Light.”
“They all know not to cross him,” Pan said.
“Or you.” Carol’s voice held a shudder. “There’s a reason you’re first assistant manager. Your chewings-out are legendary.” Another silence, extremely uncomfortable for Emma. “But if not one of the permanent staff, then…”
“Yeah,” Pan growled. “It has to be one of the new hires.”
All the feeling left Emma’s limbs. Her hands dropped to either side of the keyboard, suddenly too heavy to move.
Tentatively, Carol said, “Brant?”
“The kid?” Pan snorted. “He’s not smart enough. Even if he managed to unlock the Wrapphone from the display, he’d be standing out in the middle of the store with the thing.”
“But that leaves…”
Carol left the name unsaid, but Emma knew the answer.
That left her.
Oh, why had this store been the test market? If the phone had already been a commodity item, several billion sold, instead of one of a kind, she wouldn’t be in danger of worse than losing her job.
Being declared a criminal. She shuddered.
And then her phone buzzed. Premonition making her heart sink, she took it out.
New text.
—Pls come to my office. GL—