Page 158 of Safe With You
Ellis disappeared down the fiction aisle while I settled onto the stool behind the register, counting the drawer the same way I had hundreds of times before. The calculator clicked beneath my fingers as I jotted the final number onto the deposit slip.
“Balanced?” Ellis asked from somewhere behind the romance shelves.
“Thankfully.”
“I was rooting for you.”
“I could feel the support.”
“I do what I can.”
A smile tugged at my mouth.
The silence that followed didn’t feel awkward.
It was filled with the quiet shuffle of books sliding back onto shelves, the wheels of the return cart squeaking every few seconds, and the soft jazz still playing through the speakers overhead.
I locked the register drawer before carrying the deposit bag into the office.
When I came back out, Ellis was standing on the small step stool we’d bought years ago because neither Naomi nor I could ever reach the top shelf without it.
I stopped in the middle of the aisle.
“You know...”
He glanced down.
“What?”
“Watching somebody over six feet use that tiny stool is objectively funny.”
He looked down at the stool.
Then back at me.
“I was trying to save my back.”
“Mhm.”
“I was.”
“You look ridiculous.”
“I feel judged.”
“You should.”
He laughed, sliding the last book into place before stepping down.
“There. Happy?”
I tilted my head, pretending to inspect his work.
“You put two books in the wrong section.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
