Strut the Mall (Love at Westbrook Mall #4)

15. Interview

15

Interview

Zack followed Theo for a little bit to make sure he left. Then, he marched to my desk. “So, what was that?”

“My ex. Being dramatic. I guess we have that in common,” I said.

Zack arched his brow. “I gathered that.”

Well, damn. Now I was like Theo? I pushed my shoulders back and reorganized some shoes. “Thanks for helping me get rid of him.”

“No problem,” he said. “Why did you say I was your boyfriend?”

Shit. I stuffed some crinkly tissue paper into a box, then clamped the lid on it. “Some guys don’t take ‘no’ for an answer unless they think you belong to another man.”

He propped his clipboard on his hip and glanced over his shoulder. “I see that at the bar all the time, but what was the video you mentioned?”

“Oh. I…uh,” I stacked the boxes, then scooped them up as a cardboard shield and crab-walked to the sorting shelves, “I drunkenly posted that ‘classy’ New Year’s message, and your voice was in the background.”

“Enough to bother him?”

“Yep.” Although it wouldn’t take much to irritate him after a rare rejection.

Zack tucked his clipboard into the back of his slacks. ”Can you show it to me?”

Ugh, I hated the idea of reliving my messiness, but I supposed if the rest of the world had access, he was kind of entitled to it. “Do you want the link or my handle?”

He shrugged and rubbed his ear. “I don’t have social media. Maybe send it to Shelby, and she can show me?”

We weren’t friends on socials. I wasn’t particularly excited for her to see it either. I checked for Andre, then jerked my chin to indicate Zack should follow me. “I can only use my phone in the back where we don’t have cameras.”

He glanced at the camera perched over the shoe window. “Am I allowed to go there now that my interview is over?”

“We can always say I needed you to move this for me.” I huffed and tried to shove the entire shoe stack onto a shorting shelf. Boxes slid everywhere. I gasped and tried to pin the falling ones with my body.

Zack rushed up and caught the strays, his button-down brushing my arm. “Got it?”

“Yeah,” I wheezed. Why was I always such a mess around him?

His large frame took up almost all of the narrow hallway, his shoulders blocking out the dim warehouse lights. I’d have to brush past him to go anywhere at all.

In his shadow, my heart pounded harder. “How did the interview go?” I asked.

He leaned against the shelf. “Good, I hope.”

“I think so too, from what I saw. He doesn’t do orientations unless he likes someone.”

“Yeah?” His lip ticked up on one side.

I patted his arm. “Hard to believe someone likes you, I know.”

Zack scoffed.

Poor guy probably had to fight off cheerleaders for half his life.

I sucked in my gut and scooted past him, though my boobs still grazed him by accident. He stiffened and avoided my gaze. Maybe he only liked girls in non-neon-green uniforms.

I pulled down my shirt hem and led him to the shoe repair station. “Sometimes, I hide my phone here. Andre’s kind of strict when he’s conscious.”

“Conscious?” Zack snorted. “At work? Isn’t that part of his job?”

“You’ll figure it out. Here’s the video.” I pulled it up and tilted the screen toward him. As it played, I stared beyond my phone, praying he wouldn’t read the comments.

Heat radiated off him through that button-down. At least he wore deodorant. Old Spice again. I ran my fingers over my lips and waited for the video to end.

He snickered and straightened his spine. “That’s it?”

“Yes. Apparently, your presence indicated I’d been looking for a new man.”

He arched his brow. “And he thought I’d meet those standards?”

“Y-yes.” I darkened my phone screen. Was I considered high-maintenance? Or did a beefcake like Zack seriously think he wasn’t attractive? “You were just a disembodied voice to him. He didn’t know we were friends.”

To be fair, I didn’t know what we were either. The last few days had muddled our non-relationship.

I rubbed my screen on my leg. “Hopefully, now that he’s seen a muscle man, he’ll back off.”

“Just in case he doesn’t, here’s my number.” He scrawled his digits on a leftover receipt. “Anytime you need a fake boyfriend, you call me.”

“Really?” I smiled.

“Really,” he promised.

That was awfully solid of him. Not that I needed the quarterback to save the day. We had loss prevention and security who could help me out to some extent. Still, I smoothed the paper and added his contact to my phone. There were other reasons I could call him. Shoveling. Nagging. Having someone take me down a peg. “Is this only for Theo or can I call on you for other fake boyfriend purposes?”

He frowned. “What do you mean, like scaring off other guys?”

“No.” I rocked on my heels and tapped the paper on the counter. “This might sound stupid, but our video was actually kind of a success.”

“At what?”

“Um, engagement. For my brand.”

He tugged his ear. “I don’t really understand monetization and all that, but congrats?”

“I didn’t make money off it.” I wasn’t using him. Especially not without his permission. “But I was thinking maybe I need to rebrand. Especially post-Theo. I want to attract the right kind of…” Men? “Brands. Um, audience. And you seem like an All-American, non-jerk I could make content with until I figure out the algorithm.”

He tilted his head. “You want to get drunk on camera so I’ll make fun of you again?”

“Uh, no.” That was a huge embarrassment.

“I’m not a model or a cameraman,” he said.

“I know, that’s not what I’m asking for.”

“Well, be straightforward, then.” He huffed through his nose.

“Fine. I want you to be my boyfriend.”

Oh shit. Here we went again.