“Can I help you folks find anything today?” A lanky blond guy approaches us from the back of the store. He’s wearing a Mileage Sports golf shirt and a smile. One arm has a colorful sleeve of tattoos that travels from his wrist to who knows where. His sandy blond hair is long, and he wears it pulled back in a low ponytail.
“Women’s running shoes,” Josh says, moving to stand closer to me. “She needs a size eight stability shoe with midsole cushioning and good support. I’m thinking Brooks or ASICS.” Ponytail shifts his gaze to me and looks me over.
“I’d like to assess your gait first to make sure.” He smiles reassuringly at me. “Come on over here and slip off your shoes.” I follow him and do as I’m told, wishing I’d worn more appropriate socks. He crouches down and examines my feet, then looks up at me. “I’m Colby, by the way. What’s your name?”
“Betty.” His cocky grin goes full watt.
“That’s a great name.”
“I like yours too.” I smile down at him. Josh coughs behind us, and Colby straightens up to his full height.
“All right, Betty,” he says smoothly. “Why don’t you go ahead and jog to that display, then back to me.” He points to the display about twenty-five feet away and again, I do as I’m asked. I try to stay light on my toes and appear graceful, but I am painfully aware that I am wearing the wrong bra for any kind of running. I feel my breasts bounce with every step I take, and I hold my bent arms tight to my sides in an attempt to stabilize them.
“Very nice form,” Colby says when I reach him, and I can’t help but feel that he’s not talking about my running style. “I’ll grab a few pairs that I think will suit you.”
“If he doesn’t come back with ASICS or Brooks, he’s an idiot and we’re leaving.” Josh glowers when he’s gone. I ignore him and wander in my sock-feet over to the sports bras. I am definitely going to need something to bind my girls to my rib cage if this plan has any shot of working. I refuse to shop for underwear in front of Josh, or Colby, come to think about it. I make a mental note to jet to Lululemon at my earliest opportunity. If I have to run for twenty-six point two miles, I’m going to look cute doing it.
Colby returns with four boxes stacked on top of each other and instructs me to sit on a bench in front of a wall of sneakers. I do not miss the smug look of satisfaction on Josh’s face when he sees that there are three pairs of ASICS and one pair of Brooks. Colby takes a shoe from the first box, removes the paper that has been stuffed inside it to protect its shape, and laces it for me. I slide it onto my slender right foot, but it’s too wide and we eliminate it from the running immediately. The next pair is more promising. The shoe hugs my foot like a second sock and Colby laces up its mate so I can walk around a bit. I feel a bit clumsy in them and after walking in a circle; I notice that they put too much pressure on the back of my heels. The single Brooks pair has the same problem. Finally, I slid my foot into an ASICS Gel Nimbus 24. Everything about the fit screams “right.” I put on the other shoe and walk around, feeling like my feet have been encased in marshmallows and I am walking on clouds. I’ve never had a more comfortable shoe on my feet.
“Do we have a winner?” Colby asks. I look down at these magnificent feeling shoes and frown. If only they were as beautiful looking as they feel. They are a dull grey with white accents, and I can’t hide my disappointment. I look up to find Josh shaking his head and fighting a smile.
“Do they come in prettier colors?” he asks our salesman with a straight face. Colby tilts his head slightly and glances back at me.
“I’ll go check.” He gathers the rejects and heads back to the stockroom while I continue to prance around the store like a five-year-old in a bouncy castle. Josh watches me with barely contained amusement.
“You’re the best,” I beam at him.
“I know,” he agrees.
“How about these?” Colby says as he returns triumphantly, holding a box. He slowly opens it and I audibly gasp. Inside are the most adorable $200 running shoes in the world. The white shoe is covered in what looks like paint splatters of blue, yellow, pink, and teal. Topped with hot pink laces and teal soles, they are too beautiful to touch, but I reach for them, anyway. As my hand enters the box, Colby snaps the lid closed, causing me to jerk my hand back in shock. Realization of the scene he was mimicking dawns, and we both laugh loudly.
“Just like inPretty Woman.” He grins, proud of his own joke.
“Exactly.” I’m still catching my breath. “But in reality, I’d make a terrible sex worker.” This gets a reaction from both men, but I ignore it.
“Are you taking the shoes, Julia?” Josh asks, clearly ready to wrap this up.
“Oh, I’m taking them, all right.” I grab the box from Colby’s hand and hug it to my chest. “I’m getting married in them.”
“In them or to them?” he says, leading me back to the bench.
“Maybe both!” I quickly change back into the shoes I arrived in and take my precious finds to the register. Colby rings me up, continuing to flirt and chat, much to Josh’s annoyance. He even walks us to the door, telling me to come see him if I need any running tips or advice.
“I’ve got her covered,” Josh says to him, throwing his arm around my shoulders. The weight of his arm is comforting and when his warm hand squeezes my shoulder, a fire starts between my thighs. The two men stared each other down for a moment before Colby thanks us both for coming in and we leave.
“Congrats.” I turn to him once we are on the sidewalk.
“What for?”
“For coming in first place in your pissing contest, of course.”
“He had it coming,” Josh growls.
“How do you figure?” We begin walking back in the general direction of our apartment building.
“By flirting with you like I wasn’t there.” I stare up at him.
“You and I are not a couple.”
