The Angel of Black Friday Read online

  The rest of the people were huddled around the first four in loose, concentric rings. From past experience and news-video footage, Rick knew that as more and more people showed up, the rings would tighten in as people defended their early arrival spot. By the time those doors opened, there was going to be hundreds of people here, and most of them frantic and impatient and half-out-of-their-minds with a need for… well, whatever. He’d have to step lightly and keep near the fringes. He wasn’t after any of the big-ticket items, after all: toys, small appliances and designer clothing. He’d peel off and head for the sporting goods section, avoiding most of the crush.

  Only problem was: this wasn’t his normal store. There were two Grayson’s at either end of the city, and the other was closer to his apartment by a few minutes. But they weren’t carrying any of the IAGEE6s, according to their store’s website. He didn’t know the way to the sporting goods in this massive warehouse. Oh, all the Grayson’s were about the same, so he had some idea. Sporting goods would be along one of the sides and probably in the back corner. But he could easily turn the wrong way and then have to fight back across the store amidst the chaotic crush.

  He thought he saw a store map inside, but the second he edged closer to see it, the others gave him the stink-eye. Made sense. Joy wasn’t in great supply here, especially for those who had been cold and rained on since midnight.

  He called up the store map on his phone, but the website was abysmal. The central site was good enough to order things for delivery, but the individual stores varied wildly. This one had a blocky diagram that didn’t tell him anything. Damn.

  From beside him came a polite female voice, “Are you looking for the layout?”

  Rick turned, and spent a long while remembering how to speak.

  She was lovely. Her skin was a creamy caramel and her eyes the liquid chocolate that made Latina women so beautiful. Her hair was dark, wavy, and hung in a dark waterfall to her shoulder blades. Her lips were perhaps her best feature: lush, pouting, and expressive, the sort you could dream of kissing for hours and still not be satisfied.

  Recovering from the stunning initial impression, he became aware of the rest of her. She had a small, black beret capping her head, which matched her stylish black sweater. Over the dark ensemble, she sported a bright-pink, light fall coat which added a splash of color to the mix. Her pencil skirt was dark as well, professional, extending down to just above her knees, with a delicate embroidery of pink swirls to help break up the dark colors. Her legs were bare between the skirt and the black-suede, almost-knee-high boots with two-inch heels that completed her outfit. For some reason, he had the impression she had chosen this outfit specifically to make a striking impression without going overboard. A job interview?

  She had an understated grace to her movements, like she was used to moving carefully and precisely. He was instantly attracted to her, and fought against pasting too goofy of a smile on his face. She asked you a question, idiot. Remember? Giving himself a mental shake, he answered, “Oh, ahmmm… yes. The website is a dud, and I was hoping to map out my route.”

  With a pleasant, friendly smile, she opened a hand-held version of the store map. “I come prepared.”

  Salvation lay within reach. He spun around to her side, devouring the information. “You’re a life saver!”

  She returned a soft laugh. “I’m not sure I’d go that far. What are you trying to find?”

  “Sporting goods. You?”

  “Kitchen supplies.”

  His head came back up again, sympathy on his face. “Oh, that’s right in the thick of things. Why would you do that to yourself?”

  She sighed. “Because that’s what the recipe calls for.” He still looked confused, so she explained. “I have a chance to audition for a reality TV show – Conquer the Kitchen.”

  Rick’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, I’ve seen that! That’s a great show. Difficult to win.”

  She nodded. “I’m honored just to get a chance to audition, really. They hunt around, looking for sous-chefs and people who run small bakeries and the like; then they give us a chance to get noticed.”

  “Which are you?” Rick wondered aloud.

  Flattered he would care enough to ask, she answered, “Actually, I’m a bit of a wild-card. I was inspired by this chain of stores I once saw, so I opened my own version called Flowers from the Garden. I craft bouquets, decorations and centerpieces out of fruits and vegetables. Looks like a flower centerpiece, but you can eat anything in it.”

  He had seen that version of art before. “Impressive. But you must have training in baking and other cooking areas, or you wouldn’t be putting yourself forward.”

  She nodded. “Oh, I can. And I can plate the food like no-one else because of the practice from my store. They’ll consider me an outsider, but I think I’ve got an edge.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  She shrugged. “Too much time on my hands. I watched that show, especially the auditions, over and over again. You bring your own material, wheel it in on a cart, and show what you can do. On the surface, using your own stuff looks like a gift. You get to work with your own equipment, right?”

  “You’re telling me it’s not?”

  The woman answered with an odd bite of humor in her voice. “Partly. The judges are biased towards those with quality equipment. It’s like they are judging your taste in good cookware as much as your cooking. Guess that sort of makes sense. Once I saw that…” She sighed and smiled in a self-mocking kind of way. “Well, if you knew me, you would know I can get a little carried away with details. For what I’m going to make, I need a food processor.”

  Rick smiled. “Seems like something you would have already.”

  “You’re sort of a smart-ass for having just met me.” She said it with a cute smile.

  He chuckled. “Haven’t officially met. Name’s Rick.”

  She held out her hand. “Elenia.”

  He shared a pleasant handshake with her, appreciating the satin texture of her skin. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, give it up. Why the lack of food processor?”

  She smiled in a way that looked suspiciously like she wanted to stick her tongue out at him playfully, but managed to restrain herself. “The problem is, out of the 1260 contestants admitted in the initial auditions over the last six seasons that utilized a food processor, 1038 of them had a Stelton Lamor variant – whichever was most modern and recent that year.”

  “Ahh. Normally I would call that a little like wanting a lucky rabbit’s foot, but that is a fairly solid statistic.”

  She laughed at herself. “Problem is, now it’s in my head. I could be one of the other 222 contestants that made it without needing one, right? But I’m psyching myself out. I’m sure I’ll choke if I don’t have this thing. That makes the real problem the $3000 price tag on it.”

  “Except for today.”

  “Yup. Today, it’s a steal at $1999.99. That’s still going to hurt, but I can make it work. I need that machine.”

  Rick heard her nervousness. She was overthinking this, and she knew it. Didn’t take an expert to see it. That didn’t make the impact of a good luck charm any less real. Especially when the show’s judges might actually care about what equipment the contestants picked. “Well, guess I have to wish you best of luck, then.”

  She rewarded him with one of her smiles that could break anyone’s heart, what with those luscious lips. “And to you.” She tapped the map in her hands. “Remember, keep left, then take the second off-shoot and head for the far corner of the warehouse. You’ll be home-free.” She lingered a little, letting her eyes roam over him before tossing him one last parting wave.

  Rick’s answering smile was genuine. He wasn’t overly arrogant, but he also knew who and what he was. He wasn’t going to be starring in any heart-throb movies any time soon, but he had a sculpted jawline and bright blue eyes that drew more smiles than frowns from women. Golf might be his past-time, but he treated it in th
e same way as new-age golf pros on the PGA tour; you needed to have strength behind your swing. His long, lean form could generate a lot of power, and his body was as appealing as his smile to those who could appreciate masculine charms.

  He tipped his fingers to his forehead in a kind salute. “Thanks.”

  They drifted apart, each of them contemplating their own upcoming race. Rick spent a few minutes watching the small crowd in front of him, deciding who was going to be fast and who was going to be slow. Then, he measured the crowd that was showing up behind him. As he predicted, the parking spaces started to fill up quickly. Dozens became hundreds. By the time the opening bell was about to sound, he guessed there were conservatively two thousand waiting at the entrance.

  The typical levels of Black Friday impatience and bad temper began to build. Five minutes back from the opening, people started to shout at the employees to let them in. It got worse as the store clock was running a minute behind. When everyone’s digitally-controlled watches and satellite-enabled phones clicked over to the top of the hour, the store clocks were showing one minute left. People started screaming at the uniformed woman behind the glass doors to get on with it. The employee ignored them and peered up at the store clock, following it as the only true guide.

  Rick was jostled a few times, but he had the size to hold his ground. He backed a few people off with dark stares. The troublemakers shifted away to push against less intimidating types without actually learning their lesson. The whole scene was a mob waiting to happen.

  Even though he wasn’t as panicked, Rick watched the second hand tick down. He’d have to rush forward to keep ahead of the stampede, no matter how eager he actually was.

  The second hand clicked up to the ‘12’. 7 a.m. Go time.

  The employee inside made sure to be standing off to one side, actually propped up on a display pedestal to keep well out of the way of the doors. She reached out with a stick and prodded the electronic sensor to unlock the entrance. The glass doors slid out of the mob’s collective path.

  The crowd surged forward, and Rick rolled along with them. Everything was going according to plan. He started to edge to the left, ready to break free of the main group heading into the clothing and kitchen sections which held the most popular sales.

  But disaster struck.

  A man along the left side bounced off a large barrel of brooms sticking out a little too far. It was a stupid place to leave it, and was about to cost a lot of people some pain. The unfortunate guy did his best to keep his feet as he stumbled. In the end, he rolled his ankle and went to the ground with a roar of surprise.

  The impact of his fall rippled outward. Another guy tumbled over him, skidding over the linoleum painfully. The woman next to him was wearing sneakers and was athletic enough to leap over one of them, but she couldn’t avoid the second. She stepped on his back, which cost her the last bit of her balance. She didn’t fall completely, but rather lurched sideways right into the path of another man trying to sidestep the mess.

  Rick was doing the same thing, veering back to the right in an effort to steer around the growing pile of bodies. Random chance brought him into step behind Elenia. Her quick steps dodged the worst of the commotion. She picked her path as deftly as a deer in the forest running from a wolf. Rick shamelessly stole her path, planting his feet on the same spots.

  Fate and poor manufacturing intervened. Elenia’s acrobatic, long strides proved too much for the heel of her left boot. The black, wooden spike snapped. The unexpected loss of support robbed Elenia of stability and she tripped headlong onto the ground.

  On any day, Rick would have stopped to help anyone off the ground after taking that kind of spill. But this time, it was a matter of life or death. The mob was coming. The stampede was already underway. The first group that had tripped was funneling the crowd toward Elenia. That re-direction had used up any flexibility in the mob. Thousands of people were pressing forward, and nothing was going to stop them now.

  Rick saw the dream of his golf emulator flutter away. He couldn’t bear to just rush pass and leave Elenia to the mob’s crushing feet.

  Instead of leaping over her, he went to one knee and scooped Elenia into his arms. He couldn’t carry her fast enough to keep ahead of the stampede. Instead, he cradled her close and jumped into an opening between two nearby shelves. It was a dead-end, but it was exactly the shelter they needed. Tucking their limbs under cover, they waited as the horde of insane shoppers plowed up the corridor. A few more crashes happened. Shouts of anger and pain overpowered the white-noise music filtering through the store speakers.

  But in the end, no-one died. Soon the crowd dissipated in search of their sales. Three store nurses who were on standby emerged from their hideaways and descended on the fallen. Bandages and pain medication were administered to grouchy customers who kept trying to push them away and get back to their feet so they didn’t lose their chance.

  Poking his head out, Rick saw that it was safe. His concerned eyes focused on Elenia’s rather pleasant weight in his strong arms. “You alright?”

  Elenia was still breathing hard, which had a pleasant effect on her bust-line, causing her cleavage to swell higher into view with each pulse of her chest. “Umm, y-yes…” Then, mild horror rushed onto her face. “No! Oh, no, my food processer!” She scrambled in Rick’s arms, trying to get back on her feet.

  He didn’t try to contain her, instead helping steady her as she planted her shoes on the ground. Pouting at the loss of the semi-expensive, certainly fashionable boot, Elenia tugged it off and then did the same with the other. She was wearing black no-show socks that hugged around her ankles. She tested them on the semi-slippery floor, frowned, and then shrugged. “They’ll have to do.”

  Rick held out an arm for her to steady herself on. “Come on. Let’s get there. If you slip, I’ll catch you.”

  Her smile beamed back at him. Here she was, threatening to have the worst day of her life. And on Black Friday at Grayson’s, no less, where the Thanksgiving spirit was normally taken out back and shot. It wasn’t much, but his gentle chivalry was clearly touching her heart a little. She was no wilting flower, independent and strong in most times of her life. But she wasn’t above thinking it sweet that someone had stopped to help. “Thanks.”

  They ran together, dodging through the chaotic crowd. Merchandise was being flung about, victims of tug-of-wars toppled in the aisles, and other similar mayhem as people fought to get what they wanted. Entire displays were dashed over the corridors. Both Rick and Elenia both nearly took spills; it ended up that they were supporting each other.

  They rambled into the small kitchen appliances area and did a desperate search for the right shelf. As usual, Grayson’s was playing its normal Black Friday game. They mixed up may of the displays, putting special deals on different spots. It made sense: that way, if all blenders were on sale, they could split the crowd up a little. Plus, it added a ‘treasure hunt’ element to the whole event. Right then, it was damned frustrating.

  Rick skidded to a halt in front of an empty table. A glossy sign proclaimed the former contents: Stelton Lamor Food Processors, Gold Edition, $1,999.95. Limited Offer, Today Only.

  He figured there was room for about four of the machines on the table. But now, there was only empty space. Crap.

  He figured he had about thirty seconds before Elenia saw it, too. Damned awful luck. Worse yet, it could totally psych her out. She had been invited onto Conquer the Kitchen for her talent. Given how driven she was, he had no doubt she could do well. But small things could throw off your game at a high level of competition. She’d lost her pair of boots, which partly-ruined her power outfit. Now this? This could cost her, especially if her audition was later today!

  He flagged down a service-woman, who was doing her best to play referee whenever she saw a conflict. She was somewhere in her mid-forties, her mouth pursed into a permanent, strict grimace, dressed in a no-frills shirt and pants under her store vest which declared h
er to be impartial, professional and completely unsympathetic. She came over to him, looking like she wasn’t going to be helpful at all, probably about to tell him to just keep calm and not cause trouble.

  Rick wasn’t a salesman, but he pulled out the memory of seeing his coworkers put on the hard sell. He found his most easy-going smile and glanced at her name-tag. “Morning, Wanda. Don’t suppose you have any more of these food processors in the back?”

  The saleswoman actually laughed at his audacity. “I think you know how this works, Sir.”

  Rick shifted to a different tactic. He got a little closer, going for implied secrecy. “Yeah, I do. I work over at Sally North. I take it you know the place?” It was a safe bet. As much as Grayson’s was a wholesaler, Sally North was the exact opposite. Custom, designer and high-class all the way. “It’s against the rules, but I know Employees always take a first pick off the top of the truck.”

  Wanda sniffed, then said, “Maybe, maybe not. So, what if that’s true?”

  “My store isn’t opening until nine. And I don’t do a lot of shopping.”

  Her interest was piqued. “Keep talking.”

  “This only works if one of your people kept one of these machines out back and is willing to part with it. Trade, beg, borrow, steal. Whatever you have to do. If you can put one of these in the hands of my friend over there, then I’ll turn over my pick of any item in Sally North. It’s only a quarter-after seven. The boss said I have until eight to turn in my pick or I lose it.”

  Wanda wavered. “We really aren’t supposed to…”

  “Got a survey? Customer feedback form? How much is a note to your boss worth to you? I’ll crow about how I have never seen someone keep their cool and manage a crowd like you did on a day like today. Wouldn’t even be lying – you’d be the reason the store had two very satisfied customers.” He tossed his head toward Elenia. “Not to mention, she needs a win right now. She took some hard spills and needs this one bad. Please, this isn’t for me. Help me help her.”