I felt bad.
But being busy would help me forget about that and help me forget about the man at the vet who’d quoted one of my favorite books.
Okay, so I had a hundred favorite books, but it was up there. It was on the list.
And he’d quoted it to me, unprompted, just off the top of his head.
His six-foot, brown-haired, handsome head. With his alarmed wide blue eyes, awkward stance, and slightgrimace, he was still handsome. And I was the king of awkward and social ineptitude. I was used to getting weird looks from guys and making them feel uncomfortable. Not in a creepy way. Just in a what’s-wrong-with-you kind of way.
Just another day for me, I’m afraid.
A knock at the door scared the daylights out of me and I let out a very manly squeal, thankful Aunt Ro wasn’t here yet. She’d have thought that was hilarious. As it was, the guy peering at me through the front door laughed.
Great.
Seeing his coat had the company logo on the front, I opened the door. “Morning,” I said.
“Didn’t mean to startle ya,” he said, far too cheerfully. “Are you Winter Atkins?”
“I am. Come in.” I gave him room to walk in. It wasn’t freezing out, but it was cold enough. “Please tell me you have all my shelves and my service counter,” I said.
“We sure do,” he replied, just as a rather large white van backed up to the front of the store.
I wanted to clasp my hands together and sayyay!like a manga schoolgirl character, but remembering my high-pitched squeal just a minute ago, I clapped my hands together and said a very masculine, “Good stuff,” instead.
His two staff began bringing gear in as I went over the floor layout plans, confirming everything was correct, then seeing they were more than capable—and seeing my very fabulous service counter in the middle of the store, waiting to be put in its final resting place—andafter watching the first of the shelves being installed, I got out of their way and went in search of coffee.
It was too early for the café across the road so I walked up to the diner. It was a testament to the classic retro American diners from the 1960s, though I was surethis was all original. It was warm and busy, the staff friendly, and it smelled amazing. No doubt the baked goods in the cabinet and the man I could see in the kitchen pulling out trays of muffins were to thank for the delicious aromas.
The waitress, an older lady with hair a copper color that I could only describe as courageous, greeted me with a motherly smile. “What can I getcha, love?”
I liked her immediately. “The largest coffee you’re legally allowed to give me, and two of the lemon blueberry scones, please.”
I thought Ro might like one when she came down later. Or, if she was late, I could totally eat both and not tell her...
Just a few short minutes later, I was walking back to the store. It was off Main Street, just before the turn to the bridge, central to everything. I just couldn’t get over how picturesque this town was.
Like a freaking postcard.
The main street was lined with old-fashioned awnings, planter boxes, gorgeous window dressings, with the mountains as a backdrop. It was stunning. And the people all smiled and waved.
My cynical city-self would almost think this was a dystopian nightmare if I didn’t love it so much.
I was going to be happy here. I just knew it.
I had a skip in my step as I headed back to the shop, mentally running through everything I still needed to do. I had the new computer and point-of-sale system at home already, waiting for the service counter to be installed. Then I could set up the cataloging software, the accounting software, and tweak the website some more.
I could hear the drilling and banging as I got closer, smiling at how close it all was to coming together, and Inoticed the man from across the way putting some tables out in the sunshine.
“Morning,” he said when he saw me.
He was in his forties, at a guess, with grayish hair and a warm, wide smile.
“Oh, hi,” I replied.
We kinda met in the middle of the road, and he nodded toward my store and the worker inside it. “It’s all happening here today,” he said.
“Yes,” I said, maybe a little too excited. “Shelving and my brand-new sales counter.”
