Page 51 of Haunt the Mall

“I can endure anything,” he said, bowing to conspire with me. “But my favorites are think pieces, smart movies that wink at or challenge the audience, even if they’re silly.”

“So you want Mummy’s House, obviously.”

He chuckled and hung his head.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, tapping him with my hip. “And thanks for letting me pick this time. Although you did great the last time.”

“Of course. I have great taste.” He grasped my shoulder to peck my lips. His cold fingertips sent goosebumps skittering across my skin. Then, he left.

I bit my tingling lip and hugged his jacket, thankful that the widow helped me find my Spider-Man.

23

Second Skin

After watching a different classic horror movie for a bit, I had to go back for my closing shift. I snuck out of the theater and surveyed the area for Victor. This time, I hesitated to ask the widow animatronic for his location. What if she was actually possessed and pointed him out again? The less I bothered with haunted shit, the better. I texted him instead.

< Me: Hey, where are you? I can return your jacket before I head back [black heart emoji] >

Hopefully, the heart emoji wasn’t too much. I also wanted give him a kiss.

< Victor: I’ll come get it from you at the end of my shift. Or you can come to me, depending on who gets out first. >

Nice. So, I’d get to see him again today. I slipped into his jacket and popped the Dracula collar to warm my ears. This was so him. I chuckled and sipped my refilled cup on the way back to Hot Contra. The coat billowed behind me like a cape. No wonder he had so much confidence. In this jacket, I was a badass bitch.

I guessed I was always a badass bitch. This outfit emphasized it.

I steeled myself with a smile and breezed into the store. “Hey, fam.”

“Hey.” AJ lifted his hand, then quickly tried to balance a stack of costumes.

Bree slid off the counter. At least she tried to hide she’d been sitting on it.

Something seemed weird, though. I set my drink in my office, then came back out to the sound of plastic rustling and hangers clanging. “Why’s the music off?”

Bree crossed her arms.

AJ hesitated and sent her a long look. “Uh, it was giving her a headache,” he said.

I nodded. “Ah, yes.” Because somehow, her hangover trumped best business practices. “Bree, would you step into my office?”

She sighed and dragged her feet.

Why was she acting thirteen instead of twenty-three? This girl desperately needed some boundaries, like Victor said. I had to implement them.

I stopped her at the door to my office. “Why don’t you take a second to gather yourself before we begin?” I warned her somewhat nicely.

Her mouth hung open.

Thankfully, the implication seemed to sink in: Get your shit together, Bree.

She twisted her hair, then stomped into the office. I closed the door behind us and strode to my desk. “How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Fine.” She flexed her neck and shoulders. Was she uncomfortable with the lie or was she tense when playing nice?

I crossed my legs. “I want you to succeed, Bree.”

She arched her eyebrow.