Chapter 7

Ellie raced back down to the shop floor, quick step. She had left her scanner on her trolley in the warehouse, which was a little further away than she’d hoped given the time she’d gone on break. She already felt rough today, and she didn’t need a low SPIMS score to add to it. 
She set off at a slow jog, past the alcohol aisles in the direction of the warehouse. However, rounding the first corner, she collided with someone. Not just someone. Jae-Sun. 
The speed she was going, she expected to knock him clean off his feet. To her surprise, however, Jae-Sun deftly shifted her momentum, slowing her down in a move similar to a twirl. 
“Are you alright?” he asked, calm and collected.
“Yeah,” Ellie replied, quickly tidying her hair, part through embarrassment, and part through trying to look her best. “That’s quite some moves you’ve got there.”
“All part of the job,” Jae-Sun replied, as smooth as a slide. “Better that than a shoplifter landing a punch.”
Ellie laughed, then blushed. What was it about this guy?
“You seem in a rush,” he commented. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh yeah,” said Ellie, recalling the reason for her haste. “I need to get back to my trolley — don’t want to get a low SPIMS score.”
“Then I won’t keep you,” said Jae-Sun, gesturing for her to go. 
“Thanks,” Ellie replied. “See you round.”
Ellie set off to leave, quick step. With each successive step, she heard Maddy’s voice in her head, encouraging — demanding — her to make a move.
“Wait,” she called back, and for a moment froze in shock. Had she actually said that? She turned and was relieved, not to mention terrified, to see that Jae-Sun was still standing there. 
“Everything okay?” he asked, the third time since their collision.
“Do you want to go out for a drink sometime?”
Her heart started pounding in her chest. Had she actually just done that? 
Jae-Sun stared at her for a moment. A moment that, while only a few seconds long, seemed to last a lifetime. In that moment, Ellie imagined all manner of ways he would turn her down, in escalating levels of severity. She didn’t for a moment imagine he would say:
“Sure.”
Ellie blinked. 
“Alright,” she said, desperately scrabbling for what to say from here. “How does tomorrow at eight sound?”
“It sounds great, actually — it’s when my shift ends.”
“Alright,” said Ellie, inwardly chiding herself for not using a wider vocabulary. “See you at the store entrance then — at eight.”
Jae-Sun nodded with a smile, and Ellie melted. Unable to remain in his presence any longer, through fear of literally dying from embarrassment, glee, or something in between, she left. It was only a few steps later that she remembered about her scanner, and her ever-dropping SPIMS score. 
She had never run faster in her life. 

Ellie arrived back at her trolley and didn’t stop before setting it in motion. Lungs heaving from exertion, she fought back the pain, and opened up the device resting upon it, frantically inputting data to make it seem like she hadn’t spent all her break — and longer — asking out a guy she had fancied since the moment she clasped eyes on him. 
Hoping her SPIMS score hadn’t dropped as much as she’d feared, she pressed on towards the crisps aisle with the pace of an Olympic athlete. 
When she arrived on the aisle, she was pleased to find Charles there with his own trolley, replenishing buckets of popcorn that Ellie and Maddy had played their part in eating their way through the day before. 
“Hey,” said Ellie, beaming. “Fancy seeing you here!”
“Hello,” said Charles, turning to wave. “You seem in high spirits today.”
Ellie felt a nervous sting in her stomach, and the blood rushing to her cheeks. “It’s been a good day,” she said. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Charles and jinx the whole thing.
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Charles with a warm smile. “Happiness looks good on you.”
The comment made Ellie’s smile all the wider. She started unloading her trolley, hefting box after box of snacks onto the shelf. 
“Look at you go,” Charles commented. “What were you eating on break, rocket fuel?”
“I left my trolley for a little longer than I expected,” said Ellie. “Can’t let my SPIMS score drop.”
Charles’ face fell, his eyes showing a kind of concern she hadn’t yet seen from him. “No, absolutely not… Do you want me to help you get your trolley finished? I’ve been hammering these trolleys out at quite the pace today.”
Ellie frowned, taken aback. She knew Charles was kind, but this was a little much. “No, it’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got this.”
Charles, still showing concern, hesitated for a moment before returning to his own trolley. “Oh, alright…”
Ellie felt a stab of guilt. He was only trying to help, but there was no way she could put his neck on the line — what if Carol found out? 
“How are you finding the job?” asked Ellie, attempting to smooth over her guilt with small talk.
“It’s actually quite a lot, you know,” he replied. “It’s been a while since I’ve done something quite so hands-on.”
Ellie’s brow furrowed. “What did you do before?”
“Consultancy work,” he said, vaguely. “Doesn’t always pay the bills, but I enjoyed it.”
“That’s something you can be guaranteed here,” said Ellie. “It’s good stable work, and there’s always overtime somewhere if you’re struggling.”
“And, like any job, it’s the people that make it what it is. Thank you, Ellie, for how kind and welcoming you’ve been since I started.”
Ellie was so taken aback that her jaw hung open, and tears brimmed beneath her eyes. His comment had to be one of the kindest things she’d heard since she’d started working for Freshfields. She caught herself, realising how, really, the comment was little more than kind feedback shared between any coworker. What shocked Ellie was how unused to a compliment she was. It spoke volumes about her coworkers. Other than Gary, there wasn’t really anyone who seemed to show their appreciation for what she did, although she was sure it was there, acknowledged but unsaid.
“Thank you,” was all Ellie could think to say. 
She fought back her smile, not wanting to show how touched she was through fear of embarrassing herself. Most of all, she didn’t want to jinx it. 
Not when she had a date tomorrow.

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Next Aisle: Chapter 8