Kaplan? I glance back at Jake and his brown curls and wonder if he’s Jewish. I touch my Star of David necklace. There aren’t many members of the tribe living this far south of Atlanta. It’d be nice to work with a fellow Jew; well, it’d be nice to work with him if we could actually get along.
“And last, I have some exciting news!” Myra announces. Someone coughs, and Daniel nudges my shoulder and rolls his eyes with a grin. Last time Myra had exciting news it was that we were switching from medium roast coffee to medium dark roast coffee in the break room. She’s also someone who describes NPR as titillating, but you know, we love her anyway. “We’re going to have ourselves a little competition.”
“A competition?” Suddenly I perk up. “I love winning things!”
“Who says you’ll win?” Daniel asks.
“I have a better chance than you,” I reply.
“You don’t even know what the competition is,” Jake says.
I lean toward him. “Yeah, well, you don’t even—”
“Children!” Myra calls, cutting us off. My cheeks flush, and even Jake and Daniel seem embarrassed. We all turn back to face Myra. “The store is packed for the holidays,” she continues. “But we have too many browsers and not enough buyers. I figured y’all could use some incentive. Whoever makes the most sales by Christmas will receive a cash bonus of—” She pauses, and darn it if all of us aren’t hanging onto her next words. “—two hundred fifty dollars.” Adrenaline whistles through my veins. $250 added to my $500 at home added to my next check would be more than enough to fix Barbra. And I can buy some groceries tonight, no problem. Moms won’t have to argue about it again.
I jump up out of my chair and shout, “I volunteer as tribute! How do I win?”
“You win by selling books,” Myra answers. “And, more important, by following the competition rules.” She pulls her phone out of its holder on her chair and taps the screen. “Those rules are now in your e-mail. Good luck, everyone. May the odds be ever in your favor.”
From: [email protected]
7:42 a.m.
Morning, team,
Below are the rules for the Bookselling Bonus:
Each employee is assigned a QR code that can be scanned at the register. Please pick up your stack of codes from my office.
When you hand-sell a book, give the customer a code and ask them to use it at the register.
Cashiers are not allowed to use their own codes if the customer doesn’t have a code. Yes, I will be watching, and you will be disqualified if I see this happening.
Cashiers must scan the code they are given. No “oops, I forgot.” Yes, I will be watching, and you will be disqualified if I see this happening.
The code will register the sale. We cannot register how many books were sold, so the competition is by customers not number of books.
Let me repeat that: We cannot register how many books were sold, so the competition is by customers, not number of books. If you sell ten books to one person, that’s fantastic! It’s still one point.
In case you didn’t read numbers 5 and 6, it’s one point per customer. No exceptions.
The competition ends when we close on Christmas Eve.
From: [email protected]
7:47 a.m.
No, you cannot combine your points with another employee.
From: [email protected]
7:49 a.m.
No, Sophie-Anne, you don’t have to participate.
Participation is optional for everyone.
From: [email protected]
7:51 a.m.
No, Arjun, you don’t have to participate, either.
Participation is optional for everyone.
From: [email protected]
7:54 a.m.
No, I cannot win my own competition.
From: [email protected]
7:56 a.m.
ONE POINT PER CUSTOMER.
From: [email protected]
7:58 a.m.
Stop e-mailing me and get to work.
Chapter Four
Jake walks out of Myra’s office and slides a batch of QR codes into his pocket.
“Huh,” I say.
“What?” he asks, pausing a few feet in front of me. He has stubble today, and I have the distinct urge to touch the stubble and see what it feels like because, as previously established, I’m totally a normal person.
Instead, I clear my throat. “You’re competing?”
“To win two hundred fifty dollars? Yes, Shoshanna. I’m competing to win two hundred fifty dollars.” I bristle as he uses the same patronizing tone as yesterday.
“Right,” I say. “Well, good luck. You’ll need it since you can’t recommend many books.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll win customers over with my charming smile.”
I roll my eyes. “What charming smile?”
He smiles, and it is indeed a charming white-toothed smile that lights up his eyes. Between the smile and the flannel shirt he looks like he should be on the front of a Men’s Hiking magazine with a fishing pole over his shoulder and a golden retriever panting at his side. Damn you, smile. Damn you, flannel. I wish Jake had started working here over summer. Maybe he’d be wearing cargo shorts and T-shirts with borderline sexist statements instead, and there’s certainly nothing attractive about that.
“Whatever,” I say. Fantastic save, Shoshanna. Real verbal wit. I move past Jake and into Myra’s office. I’ve always loved her office, cream walls and pastel paintings, artificial plants that look deceptively real. Her shelving units, custom built low so she can reach them with ease, are neatly lined with her favorite books and knickknacks. And there’s always a crisp smell from her fresh linen plug in scent.
But Myra, usually relaxed in her domain, stares are her computer with a furrowed brow. “Um,” I clear my throat to get her attention. “May I have my codes, please?”
She glances up at me, and after a weighty pause, says, “Yes, but be sure to follow the rules so I don’t have to kick you out of the competition for not following them.”
“You have nothing to worry about. Promise.”
“Oy.” She grabs the codes from her desk and hands them over. But really—she doesn’t have anything to worry about. I’m going to play by the rules, win this bonus, and fix Barbra. “I need you on inventory. We got a big shipment in this morning, and those display tables need to stay stocked.”
“Okay!” I reply. “I’ll sell books after. I’ll take the lead in no time!”