The pen rolled, pulled between Victoria's lips when she pushed her bottom lip forward. It spun again when she drew her lip back. She breathed through her nose, blinked and twirled the pen forward, idly enjoying the repetitive action while her eyes scanned the monitor in front of her. Sharp red strands from her messy bob haircut swayed lightly while she nodded back and forth.
She hummed softly, creating a song using pieces of music cobbled together by her subconscious mind in an endless melody that helped to fill the emptiness of the often quiet store. The pen rolled. Stopped. Rolled. Rolled rolled rolled stopped.
A shadow passed on the wall behind her, drawing her attention to the mirror resting at an angle to the side of the register on her left. Her heart skipped a beat. She opened her mouth to drop the pen, catching it in one fluid movement with her left hand.
Victoria winced at herself in the mirror. Blue ink smeared the very corner of her lips. She sighed and touched the ink before running a knuckle along the freckles covering her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her fingernail clicked against the mirror when she touched it to gently turn it away from her until a black door was reflected - the entrance to the back room where the owner of the little plant nursery, Elias, was waiting for- waiting for-
She wasn't sure exactly what Elias did.
There was a specific class of customers who only spoke with Elias. After two years of working at the small store, she found she could pick them out as soon as they walked in and it became a little game for her to while away the hours in between caring for the plants. She couldn't pinpoint exactly
what
it was but she'd never made a single mistake over the last month. It wasn't the way they held themselves; some were stiff-backed and assured while others slouched and slinked. Still others assumed a casual countenance, wandering the store as if interested in the labeled herbs sitting within the hydroponic containers.
They all eventually made their way over to her in order to ask for variants of the same thing:
'I need to make a bulk order'
or
'I have a large amount of special items I need to purchase'
and any other request that fit the theme. Those customers were always sent to the back room and, if they ever returned, she was to allow them back without question.
Despite being return customers, they never gave their names and Elias politely avoided the subject when she'd asked after a few of the more outlandish ones. In return, she'd named them herself.
Ms. Crow Hat was her favorite. She wore a black bonnet edged with lace and silk roses but the crowning achievement was a large crow's head attached directly to the center of the brim. Victoria prayed it was a well made toy but it seemed real enough that she worried it was taxidermy work. The woman was middle-aged and always wore dresses in varying shades of
dark
. Even though she never purchased anything in the front of the store, she would make a full inspection and point out any issues she noticed. Yet she also praised Victoria if everything was in order. And sometimes she would tilt her head
just so
as if giving the crow a view of something interesting.
Other regulars included Ms. Serene - sometimes also referred to as Mrs. Must Be On Some Amazing Shit due to how incredibly laid back she was. Slow and smiling as if
everything
was new and interesting but she couldn't be bothered to react to any of it. Then there was Mr. Twitchy, who couldn't stay still.
Beautiful Question Mark was an androgynous enigma - cordial but distant and ethereal. Tall and lean. Whenever Beautiful Question Mark passed through the store, Victoria was left in a dizzy haze for hours, distracted by every little thing around her.
Even more puzzling was Accountant Man. He wore his white shirt with the long sleeves rolled up and his tie was perpetually loosened with the tip crumpled against his barely bulging beer belly. The man appeared constantly tired with his thinning hair tousled while his thick glasses were canted slightly on his broad nose. Still, he always said he hoped she was having a nice day before heading to the back room with his jacket clenched in his left hand. When he'd arrived the first time, she'd been certain she was wrong about him being a 'back-room-er' until he stood before the desk to ask for help on some unnamed bulk goods.
For a while she was sure it was all drugs and even now she sometimes worried the police would storm the building. Marijuana was legal but perhaps it was something else. Something more exotic.
In the end, it didn't matter. She was hired to sell herbs and plants and never saw anything out of order. Elias never asked her to do anything but care for the plants and treat the customers with respect. She'd say the same to any police.
When nothing else moved in the back of the room, Victoria turned the mirror back. She sighed as she stared at herself. An array of skylights filled the store with natural sunlight. One of the windows sat just behind her. She leaned back slightly until her face was highlighted. The direct light caused her freckles to fade somewhat while her short hair cast jagged shadowy cliffs against the green apron she wore over her dress shirt.
"Disheveled," she told her reflection while toying with the ends of her hair.
She'd tried different styles over the years before settling on the modified bob cut. Shoulder-length hair left her feeling like she was wearing a perpetual shawl while longer hair was a time consuming hassle to care for. Her mother called it 'boyish', but she thought it felt modern. It was her one remaining middle finger to conformity after a brief fling with a goth lifestyle as a teenager.
And so, it was a surprise when she found herself becoming infatuated with her boss.
Elias was everything she wasn't; self assured, calm, well put together and incredibly decisive. In their always brief interactions, he never misspoke or misrepresented himself. She felt relaxed simply being in his presence. Relaxed but also captivated. He was beautiful, tall with broad shoulders and curly brown hair perfectly framing his face. Clean shaven with high cheekbones and an expression constantly on the knife's edge of tranquility and amused interest.
The only fault she could find is that he wore the same style of clothing every day - dark gray slacks with a matching vest over a crisp white dress shirt. In the winter, he added a currant colored scarf and an overcoat but the base look was always the same. And even then it only served to highlight his allure. A not-so-small part of her interest in him was the constant wondering of what he was like beyond the persona he'd adapted for work. However, the physical attraction and the feeling of being anchored in his presence were what really drove her to him.
"And yet, here I am," she said with a sigh.
A week or more could go by without seeing anything more than a sliver of his arm when the back door was opened. And whenever he did spend time with her, he always spoke courteously to her but distantly - a god relaying orders to his disciple.
The one friend she'd been able to hold onto after college was no help. Her idea to 'just talk to him, maybe bring him something he likes and ask to get lunch together to get to know him' was utterly laughable. Searching the Internet for tips was not much better as most of those boiled down to the same formula - be cheerful, get to know them, find common interests, develop rapport and slowly increase your relationship until you feel comfortable enough to ask them on a date.
"How can I 'build rapport' if I'm too terrified to even
talk
to him?" she groaned, laying her head on her folded arms atop at the counter.
With a loud, overly dramatic groan, Victoria pushed herself up. She brushed her fingers through the tips of her hair and pulled at her apron, settling it in place before starting a circuit around the store to inspect the plants.
