Read In Your Room for Free Online Page B

make sure no one had come in and seen her, then returned to the counter to wait. A few minutes later a redheaded girl around Molly’s age came swinging through the employees-only door in the back, carrying a box of napkins. She had a coffee-stained apron over her T-shirt and cutoff jean shorts.
    “Oh, jeez, you scared me!” the girl said, dropping the box on the counter when she finally noticed Molly standing there.
    “I’m sorry,” Molly said. “I thought you were open.”
    “We totally are. I just didn’t hear you come in.”
    “Oh, good. I don’t think I could last much longer without any caffeine.”
    “Tell me about it,” the girl said. “I’ve had, like, three already. What can I get you?”
    “Whatever’s biggest and strongest.”
    “Late night?” she asked, pouring a cup.
    “Something like that,” Molly said. “We drove here and got in around midnight.”
    “Ah, a tourist. I’m surprised. I can usually spot them a mile away.”
    Molly smiled. “Well, I’m glad I’m not too obvious. I’m not really the outdoors type and you probably get a lot of those around here.”
    “So where you from?” the girl asked, handing Molly her coffee.
    “Los Angeles,” Molly said, reaching for her wallet.
    “Huh. I’m Sylvia, by the way,” the girl said, extending her hand.
    “Nice to meet you,” Molly said, shaking it. “I’m Molly. So how much do I owe you?”
    “On the house,” Sylvia insisted, waving away the money Molly was trying to hand her. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
    “Thank you,” Molly said, stuffing two dollars in the tip jar instead.
    “Totally unnecessary,” Sylvia said, walking Molly to the door. “How long are you here?”
    “Until August.”
    “Well, I’m here all the time, so come by if you ever want to hang out,” Sylvia offered. “Seriously,
all
the time.”
    Molly laughed. “Cool,” she said on her way out. “Thanks. I will.”
    The bell on the café door tinkled behind her. Molly looked down at her watch. There was still almost half an hour until Ron returned for her, so she strolled down the street in search of the thrift store. She loved the vintage shops in L.A. and often perused them for design ideas. But she definitely wasn’t looking for a job and had no idea what had compelled her to rip the flier off the wall. She could have just as easily memorized the address.
    A couple of blocks down the street she found number 178. Had she not been looking for it, she never would have noticed it, let alone guessed that there was a clothing store behind the smudged windows and chipped wooden front door. A plump, gray-haired woman pushing sixty exited the store and tacked a “back in ten” note to the door frame.
    “Murphy’s law,” she said with a chuckle when she turned around and saw Molly standing there. She took down the note and unlocked the door.
    “Don’t worry about it,” Molly said, starting to back away. “I can come back another time.”
    “It’s not a problem. Come on in,” the woman said, opening the door. “Coffee can always wait.”
    Molly followed the woman, hoping she could do a quick drive-by of the racks and then be on her way.
    “First time here, right?” the woman asked, leading Molly down the center aisle toward a desk at the back, where she dropped her purse. Racks of clothes spilled out on either side, three rows deep.
    Molly nodded.
    “Thought so. I never forget a face. Owned this place going on twenty years now. Sometimes I think it’s what keeps my memory intact. My name’s Penelope and I also have a pretty good head for inventory. Looking for anything special?”
    Before Molly could answer, Penelope noticed the yellow flier she had posted at Bubba’s peeking out of Molly’s pocket. “Ah, you’re here about the job.”
    “Well,” Molly began, trying to think on her feet, “I guess I am.”
    Great. That was just great.
Her mouth had a mind of its own, apparently.
    “Fantastic,” Penelope said, pulling an