Chapter Text
“Hey Catpiss,” Clove greeted with an ugly smile.
Katniss scowled but said nothing back. Twenty-two years old, and it was like she had never left high school. She had hoped once she graduated and entered the working world, there’d be less catty girls, but it seemed there would always be girls like Clove.
“So rude,” Clove chastised. “Have fun this afternoon.” She wiggled her fingers and drifted off toward the backroom.
Katniss groaned when she saw the mountain of unsorted clothing sitting in the shopping cart. Clove hadn’t bothered to hang anything up. Katniss inspected the dressing rooms and found three still full of clothing.
Damn it. Clove was useless. She had likely spent her entire shift sitting on her ass, playing with her cell phone. There was a rumor that Clove had a trust fund, and her father had made her get a job to learn the value of hard work before she inherited millions for doing nothing.
It didn’t seem like the message was getting through.
The only reason Clove hadn’t been fired yet was because she was sleeping with their manager, Seneca Crane. He was alright looking, but he was almost twice their age. Katniss was pretty sure Clove had some daddy issues to work through.
Katniss emptied the dressing rooms and plopped the clothing onto the counter. She had just begun sorting when she felt a pair of eyes on her. There was nothing she hated more than customers silently staring at her, waiting to be noticed. Would it kill them to clear their throat? Just say excuse me?
Katniss turned, a fake smile plastered on her face, but there was no one behind her. With a frown, she returned to her work.
As she was hanging up a particularly hideous purple dress, she heard a small high-pitched voice say, “Hello?”
This time when Katniss looked over, she saw a sliver of a face peering over the counter. Wide blue eyes shimmered with tears. Twin blonde pigtails shook from the little girl’s effort to be seen.
Katniss walked around the counter. Sure enough, the little girl was on her tippy toes.
“Hi there,” Katniss said.
This little girl, who couldn’t be more than three or four, blinked up at her. The tears spilled from her eyes, slipping down her already damp cheeks.
“I’m lost,” she said, voice quivering. “I can’t find my dad.”
A pang of sympathy sent Katniss to a crouch, so they were on the same eye level.
“Do you want me to help you find him?” Katniss asked.
The little girl nodded. “He told me to find a ployee if I ever got lost.”
“A ployee?” Katniss echoed.
“Someone who works here,” the little girl explained. She wiped her eyes and smiled, proud that she had just explained a very important concept to an adult. “You work here.”
“I do,” Katniss confirmed, glancing down at her red polo shirt and khaki pants, the standard outfit for Target employees and college dropouts staring down a meaningless future of minimum wage jobs.
Or maybe that was just her.
She tapped her name badge. “I’m Katniss.”
“Hannah.”
“Alright, Hannah, how about you and I go to the front of the store? We can page your dad at Guest Services.”
“Page?” She tilted her head to the side, her nose scrunched up as she considered the unfamiliar word.
“We’ll make a big announcement asking your dad to come up front. He’ll be able to hear it from anywhere in the store. What’s your dad’s name?”
“Ummm,” Hannah drew out the word. “Daddy.”
“Oh. Well, what does your mom call your dad?”
Hannah’s hand flew up to cover her mouth. She squeaked—actually squeaked! “She calls him lots of names. But I’m not s’posed to repeat them.”
That didn’t sound good. She wondered if one of the words Hannah’s mom threw around was “irresponsible.” But no, Katniss couldn’t judge a man she had never met. He had taught his daughter what to do in an emergency situation. Accidents happened. Katniss had lost Prim in a shopping mall once. Katniss may have only been fourteen at the time, but Prim had been her responsibility. Prim was found in less than twenty minutes, but Katniss would never forget the terror and panic that seized her.
That anxiety had stayed with her long after Prim was safely home, tucked into Katniss’s side in bed. Long after Prim was old enough to drive and go to the mall on her own.
Hell, it still hovered in the background whenever Prim missed her curfew or didn’t answer her phone.
“What’s your last name?”
“I’m not s’posed to tell strangers my last name,” Hannah said.
“You’re right.” Katniss tugged on her braid, wondering how to proceed. This girl’s father had armed her with some great knowledge. Too bad he had never shared his first name.
“Okay, how about this?” Katniss asked. “My name is Katniss Everdeen. I’m twenty-two, and I have a little sister named Primrose. My favorite color is green. My favorite candy is M&Ms.”
Hannah tapped her chin, her face screwed up in a look of fierce concentration. “Does that mean you’re not a stranger anymore?”
“Sort of,” Katniss said. “You do know a more about me. But you should still never get into a car with me or anyone else who tells you all that stuff unless your dad knows. Do you understand?”
Hannah considered this question for a long moment. “No.”
“I’ll tell your dad I messed up his lesson when we find him. Okay, so last name?”
“Mellark.”
“Okay, Hannah Mellark.” Katniss stood and held out her hand. “Let’s go find your dad.”
As Katniss led the way to the front of the store, she felt the little girl’s eyes on her again. This time, at least, they were not brimming with tears. In fact, Hannah appeared perfectly calm now that an adult was handling the situation.
“I like your braid,” Hannah said.
“Thank you.”
“Can you do a braid like that in my hair?”
“Maybe,” Katniss said. “If there’s time. But I’m sure your dad is very worried about you and will come running as soon as we call his name.”
“I wish Daddy could braid my hair. He’s not good at it.”
“Did your mom do your pigtails?”
Hannah stuck out her tongue. “No, Daddy did. Mommy doesn’t live with us anymore. Daddy says she’s mad at him not at me, but she still doesn’t do my hair anymore.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Katniss squeezed Hannah’s hand. “Well, your dad did a very good job on your pigtails.”
Katniss peered down at the top of Hannah’s head. Upon closer inspection, the pigtails were lopsided. The one on the right had much more hair than the one on the left, and stray strands stuck out in the back.
It was sweet though. She tried to imagine a man with the same halo of hair as Hannah, standing behind her, trying over and over again to get the pigtails just right. The image made her chest hurt.
“My favorite color is orange,” Hannah announced. “Just like Daddy.”
“That’s a…unique choice,” Katniss said, imagining the little girl’s house painted the color of a pumpkin.
“And I don’t have a favorite candy. I’m not allowed to eat it.”
“Oh,” Katniss said. She had one of those parents. They probably didn’t own a television set either or understand the concept of fun.
“But I get lots of dessert. I don’t think I could ever ever ever pick just one.”
Katniss smiled. She reminded herself not to make another assumption about Mr. Mellark. Hannah was an absolute sweetheart. He couldn’t be that bad.
“Name one dessert you like.”
“Um, Elsa sugar cookies. And peanut butter cupcakes. Oh, and red velvet cake with buttercream frosting! They’re all so good. My daddy is very, very talented.”
“Your dad makes all those?”
“He works at a bakery.”
“Sounds fun.” They reached the service desk where Thom was currently working. He was a couple of years older than Katniss and hated his job almost as much as she did. “I need to make an announcement,” Katniss said.
“Please, proceed.”
“Not to you, dumba—apple.”
Thom blinked at her. “What did you call me?”
“A dumbapple,” Hannah piped up. “I’ve never heard that one. Mommy usually says dumbass.”
Katniss covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Alright, c’mere, Hannah.” She lifted Hannah and plopped her onto the counter. “Do you see this phone?”
“Mmhmm.”
“When I pick it up and press this button, I can make a big announcement. Ready?”
Hannah nodded eagerly, her little legs kicking the counter.
“Can Mr. Mellark please report to the service desk? Mr. Mellark?” Katniss said.
Her voice boomed out across the store, through the speaker in every department. Hannah clapped.
“Can I try?”
“Uhh…” Katniss looked over at Thom who shrugged. “Okay, but don’t say dad. Just ask for Mr. Mellark. Okay?” According to the employee handbook, no one was supposed to say the child’s name or indicate there was a lost child over the speakers. Too many crazy people nowadays.
“Mr. Mellark, please get your butt to the service desk!” Hannah practically screamed into the receiver.
Katniss quickly hung up the phone while Hannah giggled.
“You know, Mr. Crane is here today,” Thom warned.
“Thank you for that pertinent information,” Katniss said. “Probably should’ve shared that earlier.”
Thom rubbed the back of his neck. “I only just remembered.”
Katniss rolled her eyes and looked down at Hannah. “I’m sure your dad will be here any—” She paused as a blond man ran toward the desk. “Any second now.”
“Hannah, oh my god!” he yelled.
Katniss was about to ask Hannah if this was in fact her father, but Hannah was already launching herself into his arms.
“Daddy!” she yelled. “I lost you, but then I found a ployee, and we’re not strangers anymore!”
Katniss didn’t think the man heard a word his daughter said. His eyes were squeezed shut as he hugged her close. He looked close to tears.
“Daddy, I can’t breathe!”
This seemed to penetrate his haze of relief. He loosened his grip, but didn’t put her down.
In his frenzied rush toward the counter, Katniss had missed how young he was. He looked her age, maybe a year or two older. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his hair stuck up in every direction. She could feel the tension radiating off him, even as he held his little girl in his arms.
Despite his exhaustion and the worry etched across his face, she recognized how handsome he was. She again conjured up the image of Hannah’s father doing her hair. This time he had a face, his nose scrunched up like Hannah’s as he concentrated, elastics in one hand, the brush perched between his teeth.
She suddenly remembered her father doing the same for her when she was a child. Whenever her mother had to work the night shift, he got her ready for school. He used to twist her hair with big, clumsy fingers, leaving her with lopsided braids. Just like Hannah.
“Thank you so, so much, um,” the man paused and looked at her nametag. “Katniss.”
“Katniss Everdeen, Daddy. I told you, we’re not strangers anymore.”
“Right. Katniss Everdeen.”
“You’ve taught your daughter well,” Katniss said. “She knew she was supposed to find an employee to help her. And she knew not to give her last name to strangers, so we got to know each other a little.”
“Good,” he said. “Good job, sweetheart.”
“There was only one problem,” Katniss explained. “She doesn’t know your first name.”
By the way his expression fell, you would think Katniss had just told him he taught his daughter to get into cars with strangers.
“I’m such an idiot.”
“Daddy, that’s a bad word.”
“Right. Sorry.” He ran his free hand through his blond hair, his other still firmly locked around his daughter.
“What is your first name?” Katniss asked.
“Oh god. I didn’t even introduce myself.” He held out his hand. “Peeta. Peeta Mellark.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Peeta,” Katniss said. His palm was warm and sweaty, but his grip was firm and reassuring. No wonder Hannah looked so content in his arms. So relieved. She felt safe now.
“I think you’re being too hard on yourself. Kids get lost. It happens to everyone,” Katniss said.
“It doesn’t happen to good parents,” Peeta said.
“Trust me, not immediately noticing your daughter has run off does not make you a bad parent. It’s not as if you completely forgot she existed and drove home without her.”
Peeta gave her a strange look.
“My mother might have done that. Once.” Or three times. Whatever. “Anyway, Hannah, now you know your daddy’s first name just in case something like this ever happens again.”
“It won’t,” Peeta said quickly.
Without thinking, Katniss touched his arm. “Even if it did, it still wouldn’t mean you’re a bad parent.”
Peeta glanced down, and Katniss ripped her hand away. She hid it behind her back as if to pretend it never happened.
“What do you think, Hannah?” Katniss asked. “It seems like you have a pretty cool dad.”
“He’s the best!” Hannah exclaimed. “Tonight we’re going to make cookies and play dolls and watch Tinkerbell!” She flopped around in her father’s arms as she shared their plans. “Daddy, do you think you could do my hair like Katniss’s?”
Katniss grabbed her braid and smoothed it down. “I thought you said your dad couldn’t do braids.”
“He can try! Look how pretty her hair is!”
“It’s very pretty,” Peeta agreed.
It was a small, inconsequential compliment, yet Katniss was sure she was blushing.
“Um, do you think you could turn around?” Peeta asked. He set Hannah down, but kept a hand on her shoulder. Katniss noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
“Oh, uh, sure.” She flipped her braid over her shoulder, so it lay down her back. Even though he didn’t touch her, she felt the heat of his skin as his hand hovered closely, tracing the air around her braid.
“Looks complicated,” Peeta said quietly. “Can I…” He touched her hair, tracing the intricate twists.
“Miss Everdeen!”
Katniss spun around at the harsh voice, dismayed to see Mr. Crane approaching.
“Miss Everdeen, what are you doing over here? You’re supposed to be at the Dressing Rooms. No one’s been at the desk for twenty minutes!”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Crane, I was just helping—”
“No! No excuses. And don’t think I didn’t hear that ridiculous page you sent out. What did you think you were doing?”
“Excuse me, sir?” Peeta interrupted. Despite the formality of the interruption, his tone was hard. He angled his body so he was partially obstructing Mr. Crane’s view of Katniss. “She left the dressing rooms to help my daughter. She got lost, and Katniss helped her find me.”
Mr. Crane crossed his arms and let out a huff. “She still should have called someone over to cover the counter. She still shouldn’t have allowed your daughter to make a page. She still shouldn’t be standing over here, wasting time.”
Katniss swallowed her barely suppressed rage. She would not yell or complain or try to contradict him. She needed this job, shitty as it was. She didn’t have the energy to return to the job hunt, sending out her abysmal resume, and failing to impress at the few interviews she managed to get.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Crane. I’ll get back to work,” Katniss said.
“You’re on thin ice, Miss Everdeen. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you clocking in late the last few days.”
Thom made a face over Senenca’s shoulder. Hannah stifled a laugh.
“Is tardiness funny?” Mr. Crane asked.
“She’s three, sir,” Peeta said. “Everything is funny.”
“Your beard’s funny,” Hannah added.
“Hannah,” Peeta chastised, despite the laughter in his voice. “Honestly, Mr. Crane, you’re being way too harsh. Katniss should be praised for her hard work today. I was scared out of my mind. I was so relieved to hear Hannah’s voice on the overhead speaker.”
“Hmm. Well. Good job, Katniss. Now back to work.”
Instead of leaving, Seneca crossed his arms as if waiting to make sure Katniss followed directions. Katniss sighed and knelt down to bid Hannah goodbye.
“It was very nice to meet you, Hannah. Enjoy your night with your dad.”
Hannah wrapped her arms around Katniss’s neck. “Thank you, Katniss.”
Katniss stood, a little taken aback at the little girl’s sudden affection. She shook Peeta’s hand once more. “Nice meeting you, Peeta.”
“You too. And thank you once more for all your help. Really. Thank you.”
“No problem.” She eyed Mr. Crane. “Just doing my job.”
*
“We need to talk about your recent behavior at work,” Seneca announced only minutes after Katniss returned to the dressing room.
She dropped the clothes she was stuffing with hangers and leaned back against the counter. “What recent behavior?”
“You’re late. Constantly. You leave the desk unattended. You’re rude to customers. You don’t get along well with other co-workers.”
“You mean I don’t get along with Clove,” Katniss corrected. “And I had one customer complaint, and surprise! It was one of Clove’s friends.”
“You could learn a lot from Clove, you know. She’s a model employee.”
“Seriously?” Katniss demanded. “Should I start sleeping with you too? Would that make me a model employee?”
Seneca’s eyes bulged. “What did you just say?”
“Are you seriously surprised? Everyone knows about the two of you. Well.” Katniss glanced down at his left hand. “Everyone but your wife.”
“You’re fired,” Seneca spit out.
“You can’t fire me! I haven’t done anything wrong!”
“Have you been listening? You’re tardy, rude, and irresponsible.”
“Irresponsible?” Katniss wanted to gather up a handful of hangers and chuck them at Seneca. “I’m one of the most responsible employees you have. And you know why I’m late. We’ve talked about this over and over again!”
Katniss and Mrs. Everdeen each owned a car, but there was no money left to purchase one for Prim who was currently taking classes at the community college. Whenever Mrs. Everdeen worked the night shift at the hospital, her car was free for Prim to use during the day. Otherwise, Katniss had to drive Prim to school. She had discussed pushing her morning shifts forward by a half hour with Seneca many, many times, but he refused. So she was routinely late.
It was maddening. It was like Seneca wanted her to fail.
“Are you trying to fire me because of Clove? Because she hates me?”
Hands folded behind his back, postured ramrod straight, Seneca was the picture of professionalism. “I’m not trying to fire you, Miss Everdeen. I have. This is an at-will place of employment. You can quit whenever you want for whatever reason without notice. We can do the same.”
Katniss gaped at him. Then, finally, she shoved all the clothes off the counter and onto the floor.
“Guess you’ll need to call Clove back in to work,” Katniss said.
She knew she was being childish, but who cared? Everyone else still acted like they were in high school.
*
Katniss leaned against her car door. Tears were threatening now. She fiddled with her keys and wondered if she could appeal to another manager. Haymitch liked her well enough. And he hated Seneca. Unfortunately, Seneca seemed to have all the power.
She was screwed.
“Katniss?”
Katniss spun around, surprised to find Peeta and Hannah hand-in-hand, walking toward her car. Peeta carried two bags of merchandise. A couple of pink Barbie boxes stuck out.
Ah, purchases made out of guilt. Hannah would make out well from this little scare.
“Hey,” she forced out.
“Hey. Your shift over already?” he asked.
“Oh, um, yeah. All over.”
“Are you alright?”
His voice was so sincere, so full of concern, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold the tears off for long. Her lip trembled, and her throat burned. She did not want to cry in the Target parking lot in front of this ridiculously handsome guy and his adorable daughter. She was not this pathetic.
Hannah suddenly threw her arms around Katniss’s leg. “It’s okay. Do you have a boo-boo? Daddy can kiss it for you.”
A few tears leaked out despite Katniss’s laughter. She couldn’t help it with Hannah’s wide blue eyes staring up at her and the blush spreading across Peeta’s face. He gently pulled Hannah away.
“What happened? Did your manager say something else to you?”
“He fired me, actually,” Katniss confessed.
“What? For helping us? That guy is such an ass—sinine person.” He glanced down at Hannah who didn’t seem to notice his slip.
“Yeah, asinine is one word to describe him.” Katniss shook her head. “It’s not your fault. I think he’s wanted to get rid of me for a while.”
“But this is ridiculous! C’mon, Hannah, we’re going back inside and talking to Mr. Crane.”
“Beard guy?” Hannah asked.
“Oh no, please don’t do that!” Katniss said. “Please. It’s fine. I’ll find something else.”
“Are you sure?” Peeta asked. “I can’t help but feel responsible….”
“You’re not. Really,” Katniss insisted. “Please, go home, go watch Tinkerbell.” She smiled down at Hannah. “I’ll be fine.”
Peeta stared down at his daughter, his brow furrowed in concentration. His gaze was thoughtful, full of love, appreciation, and relief. Katniss knew he wouldn’t let Hannah out of his sight again any time soon.
“Hannah’s mother left recently,” Peeta said suddenly. “It’s been a difficult juggling work and the house and everything else.”
“I’m sorry,” Katniss said. “My mom was a single parent for a while. It was really hard for her. I had to look after my sister a lot.”
“Sounds like you have some childcare experience.”
Katniss narrowed her eyes. “Uh, a little. Prim’s only four years younger.”
“But you can cook, right? And do laundry?”
“Yeah, so? Why are you getting at exactly?”
Peeta took a deep breath. “I guess what I’m really trying to ask is, well, have you ever considered working as a nanny?”
Hannah may not have known her father’s first name, but she seemed to know what the word nanny meant. She started jumping up and down and clapping her hands.
“Yes! You can be my nanny! Yes, yes, yes!”
Katniss gaped first at the little ball of blonde-haired energy and then at the man standing behind her, handsome and kind and utterly exhausted. She wondered what it would be like to have him as a boss, to see him every day.
Was she even qualified for this? With the exception of Prim, she had never babysat before. Or spent any extended amount of time with a child, for that matter. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t.
Peeta shot her an encouraging smile. She thought of his strong grip, how safe it made her feel.
She could use a little certainty, a little security in her life.
“When do I start?”