Ortega followed him inside, demanding in his mind to know what was going on. Bron walked straight to the counter. When he got there, his keys clacked on the countertop and he gestured before him.
"Sit."
Ortega leaned back against the wall, pocketed his hands, and held Bron's glare.
Let thunder strike his ass if he sat.
"You're just gonna stand there, huh? Fine. It's just the two of us anyway."
Bron rolled his shoulders and cracked his fists. The muscles rippled in his arms like something crawled through them.
"You can say what you want to say without me coming over there," Ortega said over the fast beats of his own heart. "We're not on a date."
Bron seemed to consider that for a beat before backstepping and sitting.
"Pussy," he said, causing Ortega to wince.
Bron rummaged through the back pocket of his jeans and dropped a pack of cigarettes on the counter after putting one between his lips. He lit it with his watch. Ortega tched. 'Fancy shit.'
After a drag, and when the air filled with the burnt, acrid smell of cigarettes...
…Bron cleared his throat, rested his elbow on the counter, and pointed to Ortega.
"Right. You're probably wonderin' why your… boss hasn't shown up yet."
Bron said it in that gravelly voice of his. It had a bass that shook Ortega's bones. Ortega hated how, compared to Bron's, his own voice felt weaker and less domineering.
Bron continued.
"She's on her period."
Ortega blinked. "What?"
"You deaf, motherfucker?"
"Okay, wow. Chill," Ortega placated. "It's just… I never thought that could be so serious."
"Well... it is."
Ortega bowed his head, touching his fingertips.
The man sighed, letting out smoke. Dark worry lines carved his face behind the haze, then faded quickly. Bron's eyes were steel-hard, and his cigarette finger twitched.
Ortega rubbed his elbow and said,
"If what you say is true, then shouldn't you, like… be with her?"
Bron scoffed. "Mae's a strong woman. She can handle herself. 'Sides… thought this would be a perfect opp'tunity to see the bastard she hired."
Ortega ground his teeth.
"Cool it with the names."
"Sure, dickhead."
Ortega sighed and shook his head.
"So you're just here to inspect me… fill in for Mae?"
"Oh, I'm not filling in for Mae. I own this place. And a coupla other places like this. I trust Mae and a coupla other women to keep an eye on 'em. Not that you'd understand. Ortega, right?"
"Right," Ortega managed.
"Well, from now on, I'm your boss. You can't work with me, be my guest and fuck off."
Ortega glared at Bron, who glared back. First it was beating him up. Now this? These fucking insults? Maybe if these words came from someone who didn't give off the vibe of a trueborn asshole, he'd tolerate this shit.
Ortega spun on his heels and powered toward the exit, fuming.
And just as Bron thought Ortega was leaving…
He stopped.
And spun the sign from CLOSED to OPEN. Then, without looking at Bron, he picked up the duster and proceeded to wipe the glass windows.
'Twas a new workday. Shitty Bron or Mae. His plan was getting paid at the end of it.
***
A few hours passed, and the duo were already settling into a rhythm of some sort.
Ortega was behind the cash register as always, while Bron…
Bron surprisingly wasn't lounging in the back like Mae. He was actually active. Too active, rather, Ortega thought, watching Bron flirt with a new customer who walked in.
Wasn't fair, since Bron had explicitly told him no flirting. Guess the rules didn't apply to him. Still, it wasn't fair.
Ortega, for a brief moment, had the ridiculous urge to go over there and say something stupid. Something that would shatter the whole convo. But alas, he sighed. He was busy, after all, and had his own problems to deal with.
He was just about to bust a shoplifter.
The boy, no more than fourteen, thin and freckled, looked around slowly, thinking the coast was clear, till he began stuffing items into his coat of many pockets.
Ortega watched him, amused.
'Twas funny to see a thief in action. Funnier when he thought of how the young man must be thinking he was so slick. He straightened, looked around.
That was Ortega's cue. He moved closer to the young man and said, "You gonna buy all those?"
The man heard him, flinched, and broke into a sprint. Ortega gave chase.
They played tag around the aisles.
Why was the little shit so fast? Almost like the kid was playing with him. He didn't even bolt for the exit, probably because Bron was still there flirting with a baddie. Still…
Ortega gritted his teeth and locked his eyes on the sweaty boy in a coat standing before him.
A pillar of headphones stood between them. They circled each other.
Ortega's back was to the exit, and the boy dropped his shoulders and made test runs, which Ortega predicted and blocked, forcing him to retreat.
Then a light bulb went off in Ortega's head.
He bolted left.
The young boy took the opening Ortega had given him and made for the space at Ortega's right.
Ortega dropped his shoulder and pivoted, tackling the kid!
Surprisingly and thankfully, he was light, and Ortega was graceful enough that they didn't go crashing or breaking anything.
The boy kicked, struggled, and fought out of Ortega's grip. Ortega was strong enough to control him and keep him in place.
Ortega put him down and said, "Now let's have those back, shall we?"
He patted down the young lad and pulled out…
Condoms? Seriously, man?
The boy was red-faced, his mouth shut. He brought his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it.
Ortega shifted back a bit and saw clearly that this was not a boy but... actually a man Just waaaay too short.
Ortega did not want to use the term, but y'know...
When the implication hit, Ortega's cheeks heated as well. It wasn't his place to ask, but suddenly there was the overwhelming urge to tease this stranger. Ortega had never experienced this kind of situation before.
More or less caught a thief who stole condoms.
"I can explain," the man stuttered in a voice that wasn't manly.
Ortega's smirk was sly. "No need."
Ortega let him go with the condoms. The cost deducted from today's pay.
Ortega did not mind at all. It wasn't like him to be generous. Over something so silly, too.
But it cherished him nonetheless.
He made a little man's little brother happy with protection. That was all that mattered.
***
As more customers flooded in, Ortega realised that these people were happy to see Bron. Their collective energy was through the roof. Bron wasn't only a brute but also a social magnet for bros and hoes alike.
They greeted him with signature handshakes, the bros. And the hoes… well, let's just say they got a little extra touchy with Bron.
Ortega suddenly felt left out. Usually he didn't mind, but why was this irking him so much?
There was this ridiculous need to compete.
To show and prove that he could bag a few bad bitches too.
The Bron he knew and this Bron that mingled well with people were two different people.
Ortega prided himself on social prowess, but Bron's expertise was far better. The brute seemed in his element and in his space.
'Twas fascinating and painful at the same time.
Finally, a girl walked over to Ortega after shopping.
This was his chance.
He said, "How can I help you?"
She just dumped her groceries on the counter and went back to her phone.
The aloof texting girl was a far cry from the smiling mess that was with Bron. Ortega wanted to trigger that smile, and he found himself thinking of a conversation starter.
Something she bought, maybe. He could use that. Ortega felt his heart quickening as he slowly opened her bag.
To see she bought…
Sanitary pads?
And more sanitary pads?
Was she planning on stocking against a future apocalypse?
How was he going to start a convo based off something like sanitary pads?
Think, Ortega. Think.
He racked his brain, trying to find the perfect opener.
"Are you done?" she asked, and he startled.
"Uh, one sec…"
Quickly, he processed her payment, accepting defeat.
The girl was in no mood to talk, and even if she were…
His mind was blank.
She left. Ortega didn't even get to say, "Thanks for shopping with us."
He watched her tap Bron on the shoulder.
Bron, who was surrounded by other giggling girls, turned to her. She waved at him and exited the store.
And she smiled! Ortega could've sworn.
Throughout the day, his eyes never left Bron.
Ortega studied him like a hawk, and when Bron looked at him…
Ortega nodded back, showing his respect.
Which was ignored by Bron as he escorted another baddie out of the store, palming her ass.