“But I’m telling you, you havegotto stop comparing every guy tothat one.”
Outside of my parents, Ellery was the only person who knew the truth about my first love. I’d more or less spilled my guts to her by accident, thanks to all the tramadol in my system. Mentally shoving that memory away, I frowned.
“Ellery,” I tilted my head in warning. It wasn’tjustabout comparing them to Calum, and she knew it, but this wasn’t the time or the place to get into this discussion again.
“We’ll talk about it later, then.” My friend sighed dramatically, her lips pulling into a pout. “Greys and wine tonight?”
“Okay,” I relented, accepting the paper bag with my muffin from her.
I strolled through the store toward the front counter. Our co-op student stood behind it, checking out a costumer. I smiled, pausing in front of the counter to greet her.
“Good morning, Shelly.”
Shelly Hastings started volunteering for us during the camp last year. She was energetic and bubbly, and a major help—setting up and running the craft table with ease, ensuring the kids she assisted were having fun. She was a total natural and when she asked to complete her co-op placement at the store, we eagerly took her on.
Since then, she’d taken on more roles in the store, managing the till and handling cash. She helped restock shelves and set up display tables and was eager to assist any customer.
“Morning, Harper,” she grinned. “I’m supposed to have a meeting with the guidance counselor this afternoon to hand in my assignment. I’ll have to leave after lunch if that’s okay?”
“Of course, it is,” I answered easily. As far as teenagers go, Shelly was a good one. Responsible and dependable, and she had a lot of drive. She didn’t often request to leave early or come later, and when she did it always pertained to school or the rare appointment.
“Thank you. Mydadwill pick me up,” she said, a twinkle in her eye.
Like most girls her age, Shelly’s penchant for romance was a borderline obsession. It was what originally drew her into our shop. However, in recent months…she had taken to mentioning her father an awful lot, especially around me. It was obvious what she meant by it; but I did my best not to engage her hopes.
With Shelly spending most of her time here, her father would either pick her up or drop her off. We’d formed an amicable association that didn’t extend outside the bubble ofBooks and Brewsunless we happened to run into each other around town. But that was a rare occurrence—so much so that it had only happened once, at the grocery store a year ago. Cordial smiles and friendly pleasantries had been exchanged before we both carried on.
Shay Hastings was ruggedly handsome, with his square jaw, deep brown eyes, and choppy, textured blond hair, he was considered one of the better-looking men in town. He had turned my head once or twice before—but I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, go there.
I didn’t know Shay well enough to be absolutely certain, but my instinct told me he wasn’t over his late wife, who had passed away six years ago. Shelly was pushing for something that wasn’t going to happen, but it wasn’t my place to tell her this, and she hadn’t openly broached the topic with me. Nor had Shay, for that matter, so my lips remained sealed—despite the hints and comments.
Instead, I played oblivious, moving on from her hint. “Is that it?” I asked, tilting my head toward the sleek album her hands were curled around.
“Yes,” she said, fingers nervously brushing the album’s binding before she pushed it to me. She worried her lip, watching as I looked through it.
Photographs of the bookstore, the café, and the programs we’d had over the last few months filled the album. Shelly’s neat penmanship captioned each of the photos, explaining her tasks and the environment in the shop.
“This is beautiful,” I told her, thoroughly impressed. “You did a great job.”
“Thanks,” she flushed, glancing down at it. “I hope Miss Turner agrees with you,” she added, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
“I’m sure she will,” I assured her, picking up my muffin and coffee from where I’d set them down. “I’ll be in the office, catching up on some much-neglected paperwork.”
“Okay,” Shelly nodded, her ponytail bouncing behind her ear. ”I’ve got it covered out here.”
I smiled my thanks before heading toward the back of the store. I held the bag with the muffin in my teeth, typed in the code, and pushed it open when the light flashed green. Stepping inside, I let it fall shut behind me.
My heels clicked against the hardwood as I walked through the storage room. To the right was a door that led to the side of the building, where the shipment would come through—whenever the truck arrived.
At the far end of the building were the office and a two-piece staff washroom. With the café, we didn’t need a break room, but the office was large enough for a comfortable loveseat.
To the left of the office was the door to the stairs for the apartment upstairs—Ellery’s apartment—and straight ahead was the door to the office.
It was supposed to be a shared space for both of us, but it was mostly my domain. Ellery was my equal partner in this business, but she hated sitting behind the desk. She preferred to hold meetings in the café, or her kitchen upstairs while she baked.
On the other hand, I enjoyed the business side of things almost as much as I enjoyed running the shop. Interacting with customers was a fun perk, but there wouldn’t be customers without strategic marketing, which I excelled at. I also handled the payroll and the other, not so fun, background work of running a shop.
The cold leather of my office chair reached me through my layers, and I shivered. The insulation in my office wasn’t very good, and the window behind me that faced the water was in dire need of replacing.
