Cupcakes at Carrington’s (Carringtons Department Store 1) by Alexandra Brown

adds, smoothing a hand down over her bare thigh.
    ‘Err, yes,’ I manage.
    ‘Awesome, because we’ve got our work cut out over the next few months. This is going to be big. Huge,’ she says, whirling an immaculately manicured finger up in the air above her head like a cowboy with a lasso.
    ‘OK, so what does that mean?’ I have to know one way or the other. Maybe then I’ll be able to relax a bit, if I know what I’m dealing with. At least then I can face it head on.
    ‘Well, what do you think it means?’ she says, dazzling me with her pageant smile.
    ‘Well, I guess I want to know if my job is safe.’ There, I’ve said it. I sit back and listen to the blood pumping in my ears.
    ‘I can see why you might be worried about losing your job. Given the current financial climate and your family history … shall we say?’ She stops looking at me, and busies herself instead by circling her other ankle now. There’s an uncomfortable silence. I fidget in my chair.
    ‘How do you know about that?’ The words are barely audible and I can hear the panic rising in my voice.
    ‘Oh, someone mentioned it,’ she says, breezily. Oh my God! So who else knows? My cheeks flush and, as if reading my mind, she adds, ‘That’s it!’ as though it’s just popped into her head. ‘It was in your interview notes with something about it being your own personal business and not to mention it in case it upsets you. So I Googled it.’ James! Lovely kind James. I breathe a little sigh of relief, knowing I can probably trust him.
    ‘How is your father these days?’
    ‘Well, we don’t have much contact …’ I say slowly. ‘It was a long time ago,’ I add, tentatively. My mind is working overtime trying to fathom out where she is going with this.
    ‘Must have been hard though.’ I can feel my hands trembling so I push them underneath the sides of my thighs.
    ‘Yes it was,’ I mutter, looking at the floor and wishing I was anywhere but here.
    ‘I’m sure. Dreadful business. Losing everything like that. And then you being left all alone,’ she says, touching my arm briefly.
    ‘I lived with a foster family,’ I say, instantly hating myself for feeling a need to explain.
    ‘Oh dear, no other family then?’
    ‘Not really,’ I say quietly.
    My only relatives, Dad’s brother and his family, were living in Dubai when Mum died, with ‘no space for an extra teenager’ they said. The memory is scalded onto my brain along with the clinical smell of the hospital as I cuddled and stroked Mum’s hair during the goodbyes. She’d been ill for so long … and I’d tried to look after her, even bunking off school on occasion, but it was the pneumonia that took her in the end. Her body, so weak with MS, just couldn’t fight it. A jolt of grief grabs me, and for a second tears sting in my eyes. She would have been celebrating her sixtieth birthday this year.
    ‘Well, good thinking on your part to use your mother’s maiden name,’ Maxine says. ‘Break from the past and all that …’
    ‘Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but where are you going with this?’
    ‘Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. I trust nobody else knows, apart from James of course,’ she says, changing tack now. I shake my head, knowing Eddie would never breathe a word. ‘Good, because us girls have to stick together.’ She leans towards me in a conspiratorial way. ‘Just make sure everything else is in order, because in addition to revitalising the store, I’m going to attempt to modernise Carrington’s.’
    ‘What do you mean?’ I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
    ‘Well, given that an exceptionally high volume of valuable items are handled on a daily basis, I’ve suggested HR pull their finger out and do proper checks on everyone, like other stores do. Credit checks and so on. I can’t believe they haven’t even bothered before now. I’ve already discovered there’s at least ten thousand pounds’ worth of shrinkage – stock