On the job

She had a funny smile on her face when I turned back to my cash register.
"Did he just ask you out?" Her dimples taunted me.
To be honest, I couldn't remember if I had mentioned a drink before he did, we had spent almost two hours talking over the course of my shift. My response was flustered. "I don't think so, I mean, I had suggested a drink earlier, I think, when we were talking, before, on my break."
"It sounded like he wanted to make sure, he repeated it twice." Her smile grew.
I could feel my face getting red, and couldn't figure out why. Sure, I thought he was cute, and funny, and we would lose ourselves talking on breaks until the P.A. system dragged me back down to work. And sure, the thought had crossed my mind once I discovered that my assumptions about his sexuality were mistaken. But still, I had never planned to do anything about my latent interest. Of course, that was all before it was sparked. She looked at me, teasing. I grabbed the phone and made a closing announcement.

As we counted out, I thought through the evening. The pieces started to come together. Yes, our second-floor meetings were regular, but tonight he had wandered in the second I stepped out of the elevator with Char. And yes, he tended to stop by to chat with us on his way out the door, but tonight he stuck around for nearly an hour, until we started to close down our end of the store. Could she have seen something I didn't? So now, of course, thanks to my nosy and mildly more observant co-worker, I have a funny feeling that I have a quasi-date in my future.