Dirty Truths Read Online Free PDF

cash, she made entries in the ledger under the desk and then stuffed it in the small safe behind her.
    Outside, Jackie leaned into the window of a red Chevy.
    Kristina shook her head and reached to her right, next to the door, to switch on the pod lights that lit up the pumps.
    Jackie glanced back and waved, then turned to the man in the truck. She ran a finger along the driver’s door, tilting her head and laughing at something he said.
    The Chevy had been through nearly every night Jackie worked, yet never when Kristina worked alone. She hoped Tim didn’t catch on, or Jackie would have some explaining to do. She couldn’t imagine anyone worth lying for. Love wasn’t about sneaking around. Passion and lust could be good reasons for acting like a fool when you had the excuse of being young and stupid. But not love. If you loved someone, you didn’t hide it. In Jackie’s case, a divorce would be logical, but Kristina doubted the guy in the truck inspired feelings of love for Jackie.
    She opened the door and stepped down to the curb. What did she know about love? Only that it hurt. Kristina didn’t recall ever being passionate about anything to the point of obsession. Once a long time ago, she’d thought she was passionate about art. She sketched and dabbled in watercolors, but after marrying Daniel she’d given it up. He didn’t like her doing anything that took her attention from him and his needs. As she crossed the street Kristina marveled at how totally brainwashed she’d been, before heading toward the second job of the day.
     
    ***
     
    Glancing up at the big clock on the wall above the cash register, Kristina sighed. Eleven o’clock. Almost done.
    It had been busy all night, the floor now covered in mud from the rain that fell early in the afternoon. They were supposed to mop the back and front sections of the store before leaving and John, who had worked the previous shift, hadn’t bothered. He never cleaned but she’d hardly go around correcting the boss. Earlier in her shift Kristina had cursed him silently as she cleaned up the milk crates strewn everywhere and the empty pop cases stacked against the cooler door. She’d had a full two hours of cleaning at the beginning of her shift and now she’d have to do it all again. At least the work kept her mind from straying to darker thoughts.
    Although she’d sat on pins and needles all day expecting Daniel to call again, he hadn’t. Obviously, he didn’t miss her as much as he professed, or he’d have at least called to see if she got his message. Stuffing a pile of redeemed lottery tickets into the bin under the cash register Kristina snorted at the thought. Knowing Daniel, he’d been drunk and didn’t remember the call.
    She walked to the storeroom to the left of the counter and pulled the yellow mop bucket from behind the door. It tipped. Murky water left from last night’s shift sloshed over the cement floor and under the metal shelves that ran the length of the narrow room. Cursing, she righted it and grabbed the mop from its spot against the wall, attempting to catch most of the water before it was lost forever behind the shelves. The smell of the storeroom was bad enough without adding dampness and mold to it. John, her boss, smoked like a chimney too, so the smell of stale cigarettes and rotting food burned her nose every time she entered the room.
    She set the mop against the wall and dragged the bucket to the door, careful to lift it over the step to the opposite side of the counter where the bathroom and a big sink sat. It would have made more sense to keep the bucket next to the sink, but John said it took too much room. If he actually used the bucket, he might see things differently. The bell over the door jingled as she upended the water over the sink. Kristina set the bucket down and stepped out from the small room.
    Wade Bowen, a friend of her dad’s, stood at the counter in his usual black t-shirt and jeans, both fitting his body