Thank god, another long workday over. While Lance locked the pharmacy doors, I finished the nightly reports and began thinking about what I'd make for dinner when I got home.
"Good day, huh?" he smiled, coming to stand at the counter near me.
"Long day," I corrected him with a wry smile.
I could see him in my peripheral vision, watching me, but not with the eyes of a manager. I glanced at him. A funny smile played on his lips and his brown eyes danced in what looked to me like mischief. Lance did have a good sense of humor; it was one of the things that made this grueling retail pharmacy job bearable. He was a talented pharmacist, multitasking all day long, keeping us focused with his easy style.
"Well, tomorrow's Friday. Then we'll have a weekend to recover from the madness." He continued smiling. When I looked at him again, I swear he was checking me out.
Everyone else had left. Being the lead technician, I was responsible for the reports and making sure things were ready to go first thing in the morning, because the minute we arrived it was pandemonium. Phone calls, walk-ins, refills from our message line, online requests. There was no time to clean up from the day before.
"I need more than a weekend," I said, shaking my head. I reached under the counter for the reports that had spewed on onto the laser printer. I straightened them out and walked to the back of the pharmacy to put them into a binder.
Lance followed me. I liked him, I respected him, and, I had to admit, I found him attractive. In a kind of nerdy, shy way. I was the oldest technician on staff and the only one married, but the young women had no qualms about flirting with him. He flirted back, carefully, well aware of the dangers of sexual harassment charges. For some reason, though, he was always respectful toward me, speaking to me as a fellow adult, more or less. And I knew I couldn't compete with those young girls anyway, at least as far as looks.
Lance hovered. I smiled at him, wondering if he wanted to talk to me about something. Had I made a mistake? Spoken harshly to a customer? I was aware of him near me; tall, slim, his dark hair a bit askew, needing a trim. It gave him a rakish air, adding to the nerdiness. Smarter than shit, this guy. He could do algebraic calculations in his head in nothing flat, had so much information in there that sometimes when he started talking it was like a faucet of brilliance had been turned on.
I shoved the binder onto a shelf and turned to face him. "What's up?" I asked point blank.
He shook his head now, and looked down. Here was the shyness.
"I've got to get going," I said, nodding at the clock behind him.
"Sure. Could you come into the office for a minute?"
Uh oh. There was something. I reviewed the day in my head and couldn't remember anything strange or difficult that might have caught his attention. I followed him into the tiny office. It was his office, really, but as busy as we were he rarely had any time to spend here. He was supposed to review invoices and mail here, keep up the narcotic logs - he did all these things during the day at the pharmacy counter while checking prescriptions and counseling patients. The office had become the repository for our prescription files, boxes of invoices, vials, computer paper, and labels. You couldn't even get behind the desk to sit in the chair.
It surprised me a little when he shut the door behind us. Oh shit. This was bad. Was I going to be fired because I made more money than the others? Had the company decided they could pay the young airheads less than me, that I was expendable?
"Carla," he said, his tone soft and sweet, "I really like you."
Oh yeah, I thought. Here it comes. Butter me up and then throw me under the bus.
"I like you, too," I said, but my throat was dry.
"I watch you all day long. You're so efficient and graceful, and the way you smile at all the customers, it's really amazing. Then you go home to your family and take care of them. You're ten times the woman any of the other techs are."
"Uh, thanks."
I screwed up my courage and looked into his face. Aw, fuck. A lock of his dark hair had fallen onto his forehead; he looked like a naughty little boy. I was reaching up to put it back before I realized it.
And he kissed me.
The startled look in my eyes made him step back.
"What -" I said, but before I could get anything else out, he'd pulled me close and kissed me again. "Lance!" I exclaimed, my hands against his chest.
"I've wanted to do that for months," he said, still holding me, smiling. "I hoped maybe you've thought about it, too."
Actually, I had, but quickly put such thoughts out of my head. He was so young, only five years or so out of pharmacy school. I had a son in high school.
"Well, I -"
