in another city. Maybe someone in Anchorage would be more accommodating.
Anderson grabbed a shopping basket and started filling it up with the items on Sawyer’s list, while Silver trudged along behind him and dragged her feet along the tile floor. Anderson had just finished finding the items on the list when he heard the man at the front counter raising his voice in annoyance.
“Look, lady,” the man said. “I’m the only employee here today. I can’t leave the register unmanned. If you wanted help with those bags you should have brought someone along to help you.”
“Please? I didn’t realize you wouldn’t have carts available to get this to my car, and it will only take a minute. The store isn’t that busy. I’m sure it will be fine if you leave the register for a moment.”
“Sorry,” the man said gruffly. “I’m a cashier, not a mule. You’ll have to get your bags out yourself. Take them one at a time if you want. I’m sure you can manage that way.”
Anderson wanted to roll his eyes. Was the guy at the front desk seriously refusing to help a woman carry her stuff? What an asshole. He rounded the corner, determined to show the man what it meant to be a gentleman. But he stopped short in his tracks when he saw that the woman at the front counter was Lexi. She had just turned her back to the man at the counter, and was struggling to lift a fifty pound bag of potting soil. Her hair was pulled up in a haphazard messy bun, and she wore a pair of black sweatpants along with an old, dirty t-shirt. Her tennis shoes looked new, though. They were hot pink, and bright and clean—standing out starkly from the rest of her worn out clothes. Even her face was dirty. Some of her loose tendrils of hair had escaped from the bun only to be plastered against her face by a mixture of dirt and sweat. She was a dirty, hot mess. And she looked stunning. Anderson couldn’t ignore the way his heart beat faster at the sight of her, but he did his best to push down the emotion once again. He would help her, like a gentleman. But he wouldn’t acknowledge the feelings of desire welling up from deep within him.
Anderson walked up to the counter, and slammed his basket of items down on the counter.
“I changed my mind on these,” he said, looking the clerk straight in the eye. “I have no interest in giving my business to a shop where the employees have no idea how to extend common courtesy to their customers.”
The man shrank back and did not reply. Anderson made an imposing figure, standing a head and shoulders above the clerk, with biceps bigger than the man’s thighs. Lexi didn’t speak, either. She just watched, open-mouthed, as Anderson grabbed all three bags of potting soil at once, and hoisted them onto his shoulder like they were bags of feathers.
“Where are you parked?” he asked.
“Uh, I’ll show you,” Lexi said, regaining her composure and walking toward the door. Anderson followed her, with Silver trailing along behind him and struggling to keep up. When they arrived at her vehicle, Anderson was surprised to see that it was a large pickup truck. He hurled the three bags into the bed of the truck, and then raised an eyebrow in Lexi’s direction.
“This isn’t exactly what I pictured you driving,” he said.
Lexi crossed her arms defensively. “What did you picture me driving?” she asked.
“I don’t know. An overpriced sports car that is sexy but completely impractical for an Alaskan winter?”
Lexi laughed. “I’m a practical gal. I know you think I’m nothing more than a spoiled celebrity who lives to party, but I’m actually pretty down to earth.”
Anderson noted the hint of bitterness in her voice, and he felt strangely embarrassed by her accusation. He did kind of think she was a spoiled celebrity who lived to party, but he didn’t want Silver to know he had judged Lexi like that. Anderson was always telling his daughter to see the best in people, and to give them the benefit
Anderson grabbed a shopping basket and started filling it up with the items on Sawyer’s list, while Silver trudged along behind him and dragged her feet along the tile floor. Anderson had just finished finding the items on the list when he heard the man at the front counter raising his voice in annoyance.
“Look, lady,” the man said. “I’m the only employee here today. I can’t leave the register unmanned. If you wanted help with those bags you should have brought someone along to help you.”
“Please? I didn’t realize you wouldn’t have carts available to get this to my car, and it will only take a minute. The store isn’t that busy. I’m sure it will be fine if you leave the register for a moment.”
“Sorry,” the man said gruffly. “I’m a cashier, not a mule. You’ll have to get your bags out yourself. Take them one at a time if you want. I’m sure you can manage that way.”
Anderson wanted to roll his eyes. Was the guy at the front desk seriously refusing to help a woman carry her stuff? What an asshole. He rounded the corner, determined to show the man what it meant to be a gentleman. But he stopped short in his tracks when he saw that the woman at the front counter was Lexi. She had just turned her back to the man at the counter, and was struggling to lift a fifty pound bag of potting soil. Her hair was pulled up in a haphazard messy bun, and she wore a pair of black sweatpants along with an old, dirty t-shirt. Her tennis shoes looked new, though. They were hot pink, and bright and clean—standing out starkly from the rest of her worn out clothes. Even her face was dirty. Some of her loose tendrils of hair had escaped from the bun only to be plastered against her face by a mixture of dirt and sweat. She was a dirty, hot mess. And she looked stunning. Anderson couldn’t ignore the way his heart beat faster at the sight of her, but he did his best to push down the emotion once again. He would help her, like a gentleman. But he wouldn’t acknowledge the feelings of desire welling up from deep within him.
Anderson walked up to the counter, and slammed his basket of items down on the counter.
“I changed my mind on these,” he said, looking the clerk straight in the eye. “I have no interest in giving my business to a shop where the employees have no idea how to extend common courtesy to their customers.”
The man shrank back and did not reply. Anderson made an imposing figure, standing a head and shoulders above the clerk, with biceps bigger than the man’s thighs. Lexi didn’t speak, either. She just watched, open-mouthed, as Anderson grabbed all three bags of potting soil at once, and hoisted them onto his shoulder like they were bags of feathers.
“Where are you parked?” he asked.
“Uh, I’ll show you,” Lexi said, regaining her composure and walking toward the door. Anderson followed her, with Silver trailing along behind him and struggling to keep up. When they arrived at her vehicle, Anderson was surprised to see that it was a large pickup truck. He hurled the three bags into the bed of the truck, and then raised an eyebrow in Lexi’s direction.
“This isn’t exactly what I pictured you driving,” he said.
Lexi crossed her arms defensively. “What did you picture me driving?” she asked.
“I don’t know. An overpriced sports car that is sexy but completely impractical for an Alaskan winter?”
Lexi laughed. “I’m a practical gal. I know you think I’m nothing more than a spoiled celebrity who lives to party, but I’m actually pretty down to earth.”
Anderson noted the hint of bitterness in her voice, and he felt strangely embarrassed by her accusation. He did kind of think she was a spoiled celebrity who lived to party, but he didn’t want Silver to know he had judged Lexi like that. Anderson was always telling his daughter to see the best in people, and to give them the benefit
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