Carter might look like his dad, but he was a nerd through and through, just like his Uncle Milo.
In fact, Carter was the best advertisement I could get. His rave reviews about Dueling Dragons had brought in more customers in recent years than most of my promotional efforts, though I hoped my new ads would generate more traffic. Still, Carter’s Dungeons & Dragons-themed birthday party was solely responsible for a dozen hefty sales and two more parties booked for the coming months.
I forced myself not to fall down the rabbit hole of lamenting the loss of the space next door, even if those parties could have held twice as many kids with just one of the back rooms over there, and focused on my nephew.
“Naked ladies. I saw them. The door was propped open,” he informed me.
The new tenant had papered over the windows of the shop next door like whatever they were doing inside was a state secret. I’d heard a variety of sounds coming from the other side of the wall, starting with creative but muffled swearing, then powertools, then thumping and hammering and bursts of feminine laughter.
For a second, I wondered if my landlord had rented the place to a sex shop instead of me, but it seemed unlikely. We weren’t in the best part of the major shopping drag through Spruce Hill, but this was still Main Street. Those “adult video” stores were almost always located in more remote areas outside of town—I figured there must be some kind of zoning laws at play.
But shit. Surely Jim would’ve mentioned it if a porn store was going in next door?
“Were the naked ladies mannequins, buddy?” I asked my nephew.
With a mouth full of the granola bar Maverick had packed for an afternoon snack, Carter shrugged and said, “Yeah, but they were wearing these…things.”
Jesus.Wasit a sex shop? My mind raced with the potential items he might have seen—strap-ons? Harnesses? Maverick was going to kill me if his kid let this slip at school tomorrow.
“What kind of things, Carter? Outfits? Costumes? Uh, equipment?”
Carter’s brow furrowed like I was speaking Latin. “Um. Like, lacy nightgown things, mostly. There was a shiny bathrobe, too.”
“Lingerie,” I said slowly. “Is that what you mean?”
“Yeah, lingerie! I forgot the word. There were ladies in, like, old-fashioned clothes painting the walls inside, so all the mannequins were in the middle of the room.”
I ruffled his dark hair, relieved that Maverick wouldn’t have to explain anything more than sexy nighties. My oldest brother had been a single dad since Carter was two months old, when his girlfriend took off for greener pastures, and he’d been on plenty of dates over the years—I would know, since I usually pulled babysitting duty—but not once had he brought a woman home to meet Carter.
For all my nephew knew, those lacy nightgowns he saw next door were a woman’s normal pajamas. I was content to leave it at that.
Though I hoped I’d be there to bear witness to my brother’s explanations.
After he finished the granola bar, Carter pulled out his homework and we settled into our usual routine of alternately solving math problems, quizzing spelling words, and cracking jokes. I didn’t mind running the store alone when my part-time employee, Rafael, wasn’t working, but I loved the two afternoons each week when Carter was there with me. He spent the other two with our middle brother, Mark, who owned a bath and body product shop across town. Maverick got out of work early on Fridays to pick him up from school so they could have an afternoon together.
Once homework was complete, we were free to focus on the fun stuff—which, fortunately, was how my nephew viewed tidying up racks of comic books, organizing action figures and vinyl collectibles, and choosing which magnets and keychains would get the place of honor on the countertop display.
That day’s winners were a series of geese in superhero costumes, along with some of Carter’s favorite Nintendo characters. We were arranging them when Mav arrived to pick Carter up after work, still dressed in a charcoal suit and burgundy dress shirt. His eyebrows were raised in disbelief.
“Why is your car halfway down the block, man?”
I growled in annoyance. “Because someone’s been parking in my spot. Every day now, for weeks, no matter what time I show up to open the store.”
“But…that’s your spot. You’ve parked there for as long as you’ve owned this place,” Maverick sputtered.
Carter paused in shoving his homework haphazardly back into his bag to say, “Uncle Milo’s name isn’t on it.”
“Yes, thank you for that wisdom, my son,” Maverick replied solemnly. “Maybe you should leave a note on the car.”
“This isn’t middle school. No offense, Carter.”
“None taken,” my nephew said brightly.
Maverick looked almost more put out about the parking situation than I was—and I was seriously annoyed. Everyone knew that was my spot, from other shop owners to residents who’d never set foot in the shop. I’d almost managed to beat the little red SUV to it a few days ago, but it pulled in ten seconds ahead of me and I had to watch the parking spot thief in action.
I hadn’t, however, caught sight of the driver, since I was busy tracking down an open spot thirty yards away. By the time I got to Dueling Dragons, there was no one in sight.
“When the hell is the place next door opening anyway? It’s been weeks, hasn’t it?” Maverick asked.
