A code forty-seven blasted over the Sweeter Homes intercom system meant a manager needed to handle an irate customer threatening bodily harm to an employee. A code sixty-nine meant customers were being inappropriate in the middle of the towel aisle and a code twenty-two meant the break room was out of jelly donuts.

"We have a code thirty-eight in process. I repeat—we have a code thirty-eight," Rowena whisper-shouted into the walkie-talkie normally clipped to her belt. She was stood behind a five-foot display of brightly colored shaker cups with characters from Sesame Street imprinted on them.

Gina stood next to her, holding a small bag of pretzels. She popped a pretzel in her mouth, staring at the gangly teenage boy three feet away, trying to shove potholders into the pockets of his oversized hoodie. She turned to Rowena and asked, "What's a code thirty-eight?"

The teen turned back and grinned. She was spotted. Rowena's eyes narrowed. "Shoplifter."

Gina nodded, popping another pretzel into her mouth. "Do you think all those potholders are for him? I mean, who needs that many pot-holders?"

Rowena shrugged, clipping the walkie-talkie to her belt. "I'm pretty sure he sells whatever he steals at the local flea market. Last week he was selling can-openers he stole."

"How do you know that?" Gina asked.

Before Rowena could answer, the teen stepped forward, his hands stretched out as if he were coming in for a hug. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my best customer, Rowena Flores."

Gina's mouth fell open. She pointed to the red-haired teen. "You buy his stolen goods, Rowena?"

"You can't prove I sell stolen merchandise," the teen argued.

Rowena rolled her eyes. "Give it up, Marcus. You literally leave the Sweeter Homes tag on stuff before you sell it."

Gina's eyes widened. "Rowena!"

"What? I support small businesses." Rowena placed her hands on her hips, staring at the smug teen. "Well, I did. Not anymore. Our manager, Rolando, said he'd give us fifty bucks for each shoplifter we catch. You're going down, Marcus."

Marcus made a huffing sound before shoving another potholder in his hoodie pocket. "Are you serious, Rowena? You're going to give me up for fifty bucks?"

"Oh, stop acting surprised. I'd give you up for a stick of gum."

"Where are they?" A shrill voice belonging to Karen, the assistant store manager, cried two aisles away.

Gina groaned, giving Rowena a light shove. "I cannot believe you called Karen over here. You know I can't stand her. She's always throwing the fact that she used to date Mikey in my face. I'm his girlfriend now, but she still tries to flirt with him. One of these days, she's going to regret flirting with my man."

"You don't mean Little Mikey, do you?" Marcus asked. "He's your boyfriend?"

Gina nodded. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes."

Marcus nodded, his green eyes roving over Gina's shapely figure. "Yeah, he always bags the hot chicks."

"Stop checking out my friend, you pervert," Rowena ordered.

Marcus smirked. "Jealous?"

"Yeah right. As if I'd be interested in someone ten years younger than me who resorts to stealing potholders from the place I work at. Women don't want to date criminals, Marcus. Unless it's in a bad-boy romance book. Then, they definitely do."

"Are you on meds?" Marcus shook his head. "One, everyone knows Little Mikey is a criminal, and he's still bagging hot chicks." He pointed to a nodding Gina.

"Stop using the term 'bagging hot chicks.' It's degrading to women," Rowena said.

"Two," Marcus continued, "you can't judge me about not being attractive to women. You're wearing green and black paint all over your face right now. I hate to say this, you being my best customer and all, but that's so not attractive, Rowena. How are you ever going to get a boyfriend looking like that? Didn't your mother ever teach you how to wear make-up? Less is more."

Rowena snarled while Gina choked on her pretzel in laughter.

"Why do you care if I attract a boyfriend? Is my Abuela paying you to spy on me? Also, my mother never taught me to wear make-up. I had to do what every young girl does when she's ready to learn how to wear make-up. I asked a drag queen to teach me."

"I'm pretty sure that's not what every young girl does to learn how to use make-up," Gina said.

Rowena continued. "And this isn't make-up, Marcus. It's camouflage paint. I put it on so shoplifters like you wouldn't notice me tailing them." Rowena frowned. 

"Code thirty-eight! We have a code thirty-eight!" Karen's voice was getting closer.

Marcus took a step back. "Well, it looks like it's time for me to leave. I'll see you this weekend at the flea market, Rowena. I don't want to give away the surprise, but I'll have potholders on sale." He winked before turning to run down the aisle.

"Shouldn't you chase him?" Gina asked.

Rowena shook her head. "Nah, even though he was rude, he has pretty good sales."

"Where's the thief?" Karen shouted, drawing the attention of several customers. Karen was tall, blonde, and beautiful. She promoted to assistant store manager a few months ago, and the promotion had gone to her head. While she had been annoying before her promotion, she'd become downright unbearable after she received her new title. "Well?" She looked expectantly at Rowena. "Where's the thief?"

"False alarm," Rowena answered.

"F-false alarm?" Karen sputtered. "I was in the middle of eating my Kimchi Ramen and I had to run over here for nothing? Now, the noodles are probably soggy."

"Kimchi Ramen?" Gina muttered. "So, she's the one who's been stinking up the breakroom."

"I heard that, Gina." Karen took a step forward, crossing her arms. "Well, I guess it's not a problem we didn't catch the shoplifter. I'll just have to ask my ex-lover, Mikey, if he can help me catch the thief."

Gina pointed a finger at Karen. "Keep my boyfriend's name out of your mouth!"

"Don't go all Will Smith on her, Gina," Rowena warned. "That's what she wants. You hit her and you'll lose your job. She's trying to antagonize you. Why else would she call Little Mikey her ex-lover instead of her ex-boyfriend?"

"Little?" Karen chuckled. "Mikey is anything but little, if you catch my meaning."

Rowena gasped. "How dare you fat-shame Gina's boyfriend!"

"I'm not talking about his weight, you idiot," Karen hissed.

"Don't call my friend an idiot!" Gina yelled, lunging forward. Rowena grabbed her work vest.

"Code eleven," Rolando's voice came across the intercom system. "Code eleven."

"What's a code eleven?" Gina asked.

"Meeting in the breakroom," Rowena answered, dragging her friend away from a fuming Karen.

Once most of the employees of Sweeter Homes were gathered in the breakroom, Rowena couldn't help but ask, "Rolando, shouldn't we have this meeting after working hours? What if someone tries to steal something?"

Rolando sighed. "Rowena, what's wrong with your make-up?"

"This isn't make-up. It's camo—you know what? Nevermind. I'll wash my face soon. What's causing a store announcement? Are you finally going to listen to my advice and force everyone to join our book club?"

"No way! I'm not reading any of those paranormal romance books," Warner, a tenured employee who normally didn't care about anything unless it involved money, said. "This place doesn't pay me enough to read romance books."

"No, that's not what the announcement is," Rolando answered. He watched Rowena grab a jelly donut from the box of pastries he kept stocked in the breakroom.

Karen smiled, making her way to stand next to Rolando. "We received an announcement from corporate."

Rolando nodded. "That's right. Sweeter Homes is looking for their next spokesperson. What better spokesperson could they use than an employee?"

"They want an unhappy poor person to be their spokesperson?" Wendy, another employee, asked, also grabbing a donut.

Rolando cleared his throat. "To find the best person for the job, Sweeter Homes is having a beauty pageant. Each store will have a winner and then all the local winners will compete in an ultimate pageant. The local winner will get a paid vacation to Hawaii. The ultimate winner will also win ten thousand dollars!"

"My boyfriend and I could use that trip," Gina exclaimed.

"A free vacation to Hawaii and money?" Rowena asked. She turned to Gina. "I'm totally in. I'll show my parents they aren't the only ones who can take trips out of the country."

"Hawaii isn't outside the country," Gina reminded her.

"We will judge contestants on their talent, store knowledge, and their overall appearance," Karen said. "Obviously, some of you won't stand a chance." She glared at Gina.

"Are you calling me ugly?" Gina asked, her hands on her hips.

"Will you be the judge?" Rowena asked Rolando. She stood a chance of winning if Rolando was judging.

The older man shook his head. "No, Karen is going to judge the contest."

"Not fair!" Gina shouted. "Karen doesn't like me. How am I supposed to win a romantic trip with my boyfriend if his ex-girlfriend is judging?"

"Now, now, I'm sure Karen will be fair when she judges," Rolando said.

Karen nodded. "Yes, I'll be very fair at picking the winner. Maybe I'll even ask my ex-lover if he wants to help me judge. Let me text him." She pulled out her phone and started tapping at the keys.

"I'm going to kill her," Gina muttered. She raised her voice. "Karen, don't you dare text my boyfriend!"

"Too late," Karen giggled.

"No one likes a possessive woman," Warner reminded Gina.

Gina scoffed. "Yeah? Well, no one likes a man who smells like stale corn chips either, Warner."

"She isn't winning Ms. Congeniality, that's for sure," Warner said under his breath.

"We'll be sharing the rest of the rules and the sign-up sheet in the next few days. Everyone is required to take part," Rolando announced. "We just wanted you to be aware of the contest."

"What if we don't want to participate?" Warner asked.

"Everyone is required to take part," Rolando repeated. "Now, get back to work. This meeting is over."

"While you grumble about how you're going to lose, I have to take care of a code number one," Karen said.

"What's a code one?" Warner asked.

"Restroom break," Wendy answered, pushing her oversized glasses up the bridge of her nose. "We have way too many codes in this store. I wonder if that will be part of the store knowledge section. I better start memorizing the employee manual."

"Well, this announcement was unexpected," Rowena said, before grabbing another donut. She took a large bite, causing the jelly to squirt toward Gina, soiling her friend's shirt.

"Rowena!" Gina pulled at her top. "You got jelly all over me."

"Sorry. Do you want one of the extra tops I keep in my locker?"

Gina shook her head. "No, I'll just go wash it out. I'll be right back."

After she left, Rowena turned to Rolando. "If Karen is judging, Gina is totally out. Does that make me the favorite to win this pageant?"

Rolando's forehead puckered in thought. "Rowena, you realize Karen doesn't like you either, right?"

"Really? Is this because I didn't let her into our book club? She wanted to read science-fiction stories about evil aliens who take over the world, Rolando. You know I hate sci-fi unless it's a story about an alien hiring a human nanny and falling in love or a story about an alien pretending to be a human who falls in love with a human—preferably one who is overweight."

"That's oddly specific," Rolando mumbled.

"What can I say?" Rowena shrugged, biting into her donut. "I like what I like."

"Rowena, go wash your face," Rolando ordered, pointing to the green and black paint still covering her skin.

She turned to walk out of the breakroom when a high-pitched scream filled the air. It sounded like Gina. Rowena pushed Wendy out of the way to run towards the employee restrooms. She pushed open the door and skidded to a stop. Gina was standing next to an open stall, her hands over her mouth. She was shaking. Hunched over the commode, her face in the toilet bowl, was an unmoving Karen.

Rowena stepped back out of the bathroom to face the small crowd of employees.

"What's going on in there?" Rolando asked. "Were they fighting about Little Mikey? Do I have to call the cops again?"

"We have a code zero," Rowena whispered.

"Zero?" Rolando's face paled.

"What's a code zero?" Warner asked.

Rowena answered, her voice almost a whisper. "A dead body."