The Display Model
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the public address system crackled, “it is nine o’clock. The store is now closing. Thank you for shopping at Richfield’s.” Kristin had begun closing out her register a few minutes earlier. Monday night shoppers in housewares were few, and the second floor department had been void of customers for the last forty-five minutes. Finished with her tally, she gathered her night’s proceeds and register slips into a deposit envelope and hurried off with it to gift wrap. The gift wrap counter was a short walk across the second floor from Kristin’s department, but with her feet throbbing in her heels, the short jaunt seemed a test of her endurance. Kristin had regretted her decision to wear three-inch heels for an eight hour shift on the sales floor, but the strappy suede pumps accented her calves and her long, snug brown leather skirt so nicely she couldn’t resist. ...