“What is the meaning of life?”
“Would you like a different perfume?”
She glared at the clerk in the kiosk. The woman held the perfume bottle like a weapon now, pointing it at Cameron like a sword.
“I’m serious,” Cameron said.
The clerk looked around for help. “I just sell perfume.”
“No, you don’t,” Cameron said. “You do other things. You’re human. You’re not a robot chained to a mall kiosk. Come on.”
“Well…” The clerk dug around in a drawer in the kiosk and Cameron leaned closer. “White lily,” she said, holding up a new bottle of perfume. “Whenever I’m having a bad day I just spray some of this on and it really picks me up. Want to try it?”