“Keep telling yourself that.”
He stood silently while Shelby scanned the document. There were a lot of ideas here. Ideas that would require a lot of change. A lot of work. By page 3 her head was spinning. Had she mentioned work? Would all of this really save the store, or would it just put her in an early grave?
Gray slipped the document from her fingers. “I know it’s a lot. Let’s take one thing at a time. The merchandise is something we should get right on. Black Friday is less than a month away. How do you feel about ordering clothing, hats, and such related to literature? Like I mentioned, the margins would be healthy. Do you think your customers would go for that kind of thing?”
“Sure. I mean, I would.” Gram had been resistant to sidelines. She’d kept them to a bare minimum. “But this is a bookshop first and foremost. I don’t want to turn it into a novelty store.”
“Agreed.”
Shelby’s gaze drifted over full shelves that were somewhat crammed together. The store had a few rooms, but it wasn’t exactly spacious. “Where exactly would we put all this additional merchandise?”
“I thought we’d clear out—or at least minimize—the genres that aren’t selling. I have spreadsheets that show us what those are, but I’ll bet you already know.”
“Historical fiction, poetry, and... westerns,” she admitted reluctantly. Gram had loved westerns and stocked copious copies of all her favorites. She glanced at the shelving bearing those beloved titles as tears stung her eyes. Would this even feel like Gram’s store by the time they finished revamping it? These changes would feel like losing Gram again, bit by bit.
Gray touched her arm. “I know it’ll be hard making changes to yourgrandma’s store. But we have to think of the greater good. We’re honoring her by making the store a success. Besides, if we don’t make the hard decisions, there won’t be a store left at all.”
She winced. “Harsh.”
“There’s an entire bookcase of westerns and you only sold one in the past month.”
She remembered the sale. She’d actually kind of pushed the guy into it. Okay, fine, westerns weren’t exactly flying off the shelves.
“That’s how we’ll make space for inventory that’ll turn a profit and bring us back into the black.”
“You’re really warming the cockles of my heart there, Briggs.”
“What are cockles anyway and how exactly are they warmed?”
She wasn’t sure about her cockles, but her arm was actually heating up. Because, yes, his hand still rested there, burning her skin like a hot coal. She shifted until his hand fell, then aimed for her pockets with trembling hands.
Oh, right. No pockets.
A shuffle sounded and Logan appeared at the top of the stairs, his gaze quickly landing on her. And Gray. Her and Gray.
Logan frowned.
Because she might’ve forgotten to notify him that Gray was sticking around town for, oh, the rest of the year or so. Whoops.
Logan’s gaze toggled back to Shelby. “I was waiting for you at the bakery...”
The bakery.Where they’d had plans to meet before work. She slapped a hand to her forehead. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”
Gray shifted away. “I, uh, have a phone call to make. We can pick this up later.”
“Right, yeah.”
Logan’s brows lowered beneath the rim of his glasses as he watched Gray’s retreating form until he disappeared down the steps.
“I thought Gray left,” he said when Gray was gone.
“So did I. It was— A lot has happened since we last spoke.” Well, okay, they’d texted but hadn’t spoken on the phone or in person. “The audit turned up some problems. The store’s in trouble financially, Logan. I mean deep trouble.” She explained the dire situation and told him about Gray’s offer of help.
Logan regarded her with pressed lips, and when her words finally petered out, he pushed his glasses into place. “He’s staying here for two months and you didn’t think to mention it to me?”
Well, golly gee, she’d had a few things on her mind this weekend. Things like salvaging her grandmother’s business—and her own career for that matter. Hadn’t she just mentioned her entire future was on the line? “I told you, Logan. It slipped my mind.” The words came out stiffly. Which was fine because she was feeling a little starchy about the judgy stare he leveled on her.
“Yes, I recall. The same way you forgot we were meeting at the bakery, as we do every Monday morning, because your ex-boyfriend is hanging around town in hopes of winning you back.”
