“No, no,” she complained. “It has to be orange.”
“Here’s an orange one that has a soccer ball on the front.”
She grimaced. “I don’t like that one. How about the one with the soccer player on it? Do you have that one in orange?”
“No ma’am, I’m sorry. We’re out of the orange shirt in that design. Maybe after Christmas.”
She glared at him. “That would be a little late, wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe your brother would like a cap,” he suggested, trying to save the sale. “We have several designs available.”
“No, I don’t think so.” She gave him a contemptuous snort, stuck her cute little nose in the air and walked away, her red skirt swirling around her.
Rem blew out his breath. Nasty customers were part of the job, but pretty girls should act pretty too. What a disappointment. His Christmas angel was a devil from hell.
Three customers later, it was time to leave. He locked up, tucked his hat in his pocket, and walked out of the mall into the Christmas Eve darkness.
The weather was a little brisk, but his old Chevy was parked close enough to the door that he didn’t need a jacket. He unlocked the door and slid in, turned the key, lost the engine, then tried again.
TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW