“Your total is $657.69.”

He blows out a breath and passes over his card. “He sure as hell better use some of this stuff.”

I glance at the name on the card. Griffin. Kind of different, like my name, but not as weird.

The bell over the door tinkles as a new customer enters the store. It’s another suit, but this one looks cheap and slimy. Like a pawn shop salesman or something. Ugh. Here’s hoping this one is quick so I can finally eat my shawarma, which is probably cold and soggy by now, although that’s my fault for being so thorough with Griffin. And it totally paid off.

Griffin glances at the new customer and hunches his shoulders. As if that’s going to make him any less noticeable. The receipt seems to take forever to print. I hand it over, and his long, thick, well-manicured fingers graze mine.

Goose bumps flash over my skin. The thermostat is probably set too low because the vent above suddenly blasts me with cold air, and I shiver.

He tucks the receipt in his wallet and grabs the bags. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Looks like you’re pretty stocked on the sex toys, but you know where to find me if you run out of lube.” I wink, and then internally chastise myself because I have no idea what this guy is really like, and now I’ve given him the equivalent of a green light to come back and visit. Not that I’m opposed to seeing his gorgeous face, but he could be one of the crazies. Then again, maybe he’s not.

He chuckles and taps on the glass top counter. “Have a good day, Cosy. Thanks for sharing your extensive knowledge with me.” He flashes me a grin, and holy hell, I think that alone might have given me a mini orgasm.

Okay, no it didn’t. But his smile is damn pretty.

I watch him leave before I turn my attention to the cheap suit. He’s hanging out in the video section. I don’t understand why people pay money for that stuff when it’s all over the internet for free, but whatever.

Cheap suit buys two granny flicks and makes his exit. I assume he has mommy issues or something.

After he leaves, I finally have a chance to eat my lunch. As predicted, it’s soggy, but still delicious. I make random doodles as I eat and find myself writing the suit’s name over and over, like I’m some smitten high school girl. I roll my eyes. That guy is one of a million suits who fly in for a business trip, mix it with a whole load of excess and pleasure, and then go back to their regular life and talk about that trip they took to Vegas.

Doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize about him, though.Chapter Two: Sexy Stalker. Maybe.Cosy

Three weeks later

I groan at the annoying buzz of my alarm. Mondays are always the hardest. Especially Mondays when I work at STW and follow up the shift with an evening seminar. This is one of those Mondays.

I roll out of bed and stumble across the hall to the bathroom. It’s nine thirty and I still feel as if I could sleep another four hours. Probably because I stayed up until two in the morning working on an assignment for my hotel management class. I’m mostly done, and it isn’t due until tomorrow. So I have time to go over it and make sure it isn’t full of two-in-the-morning drivel.

I take a quick shower, wrap myself in a towel, and head for the kitchen. My apartment is small but functional. I come to a stop when I enter the living room. On the couch is a body. More precisely, my sister’s body. I watch her for a few seconds to make sure she’s still breathing. When her back finally rises and falls, I sigh with relief.

Nevah—or haven backward—is my older, less grounded sister. Her presence on my couch means one of two things; she’s either broken up with her most recent meal ticket, aka boyfriend, or she’s lost another job. Or both. Sometimes it only lasts a day or two until she and the boyfriend in question make up. Other times, when she can’t find a job, or someone to shack up with, she’ll stay for weeks. Or at least until she gets annoyed with my work schedule and my responsible attitude.

I leave her to sleep and set the coffee to brew while I get ready for work. I change into my STW uniform, which is a tank with their logo on my boobs and a pair of shorts. The heels are a suggestion, but as a general rule, the higher they are, the better the sales tend to be. I also pack an extra outfit for class—once I accidentally forgot a change of clothes. There was a lot of staring that day. I also got asked out by three different guys. Needless to say, I haven’t made that mistake again.