CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
By the weekend, my apartment looks like I’ve always had a cat. Kathleen was thrilled when I asked her to accompany me to the pet store on Friday during lunch. She helped me choose the right food and treats, litter, a scratching post, and some toys. She referred me to her vet so I could get the cat checked out, just in case Mrs. Gunderson’s neglect has any lingering effects.
Celia’s not happy with me, but I’m used to that. When I informed her I was keeping the cat, she told me to keep ‘the thing’ away for her, which I doubt will be a problem since the cat avoids her. Now I just need to decide on a name for her. I had thought of Midnight, but that seems too obvious. I toyed with the idea of Salem because I was a huge fan ofSabrina the Teenage Witchback in the day, but she’s much sweeter than Sabrina’s out-for-world-domination familiar. I ran a few other ideas by the cat to see if she had any reaction, but she always just blinked at me and flicked her tail, as if batting away my suggestions.
Bolstered by the decision to keep the cat, I decide it’s time to make a few more changes. With my bare living room walls in mind, I head to the bookstore on Saturday. The last time I was in, the owner, Piper, had just stocked a bunch of framed bookish prints.
As soon as I walk in the door, Piper rushes around the counter to hug me. “My favorite customer!” She gives me a squeeze-and-jiggle combo, sending her red ponytail swinging. “You’re actually just the person I was hoping to see.”
“Oh yeah? One of my coworkers at Santa’s Village keeps talking about signs and the Universe and stuff being meant to be. Now it seems like all these weird coincidences keep happening.”
“Meredith?” she asks, and I nod. I knew Hugh was friends with Piper, and Meredith must be too. “Some people say there’s no such thing as coincidence, you know,” Piper adds, wiggling her eyebrows and grinning. “I have some books I could recommend to you if you’re interested in learning more. For now, I have a question. Do you have time?”
When I tell her I have all day, she motions to one of the small seating areas scattered around the store. “Can I get you a coffee or tea? I just learned how to make London Fog lattes and they’re pretty good if I do say so myself.”
“I’d love one. Thanks.”
She disappears into the back and I take the opportunity to check out the art prints. There are a variety of book quotes on different backgrounds—flowers, cityscapes, starry skies. My eyes gravitate to one with beautiful watercolor flowers and a quote fromAnne of Green Gables: “Dear old world, you are lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.”
“I almost set that one aside for you when it came in,” Piper says from behind me. “I was sure you’d love it.”
“I do.” Closing my eyes, I picture it hanging next to the bookcase in my living room. Perfect. I take it to the counter and set it next to the cash register before joining Piper. “This is amazing,” I tell her after taking a sip of the latte. “You should think about selling these.”
She smiles, clearly pleased. “That’s actually part of what I wanted to talk to you about.” She sits back in her squishy chair, kicking her shoes off and tucking her legs up under her. “I know you’re busy at Quest and Santa’s Village, but I was wondering if you’d have time to work on some ideas for promoting the bookstore. In an official capacity, I mean. As in, I’d pay you.”
For some reason, this makes me laugh.
Piper takes it in stride, shrugging and laughing along. “I figured since marketing is what you do for a living and you love books, you might have some good ideas. I’d rather brainstorm with a fellow book lover than a company who might have generic and impersonal ideas, you know?”
“I’d be honored.” I’m trying to keep my cool, despite the fact I’m freaking out inside. Even though some small, secret part of me has always dreamed of owning my own bookstore, I’ve never actually thought it would happen. That hasn’t stopped me from daydreaming about how I’d run my own store, though. I would rock this job. “Are sales down?”
“Yes and no,” she says. “Since we don’t have a big chain in town, I have a loyal base of customers, plus we’re weirdly popular with the tourists. Probably because the building is old and cute. But people are buying online more and more these days. I’ve toyed with the idea of setting up a website, but I don’t know enough about how it works, and I’d rather get peopleintothe store anyway.”
I hold up my mug. “Well, this is one way to do it. You don’t really have the space to become a bookstore-slash-café, but if you could offer a few refreshments for sale, it might draw in more people.”
We bounce ideas around over the next hour. Whenever customers come in, I take the time to jot down the thoughts flooding my mind. This job would be the next best thing to my dream. Maybe even better, because I wouldn’t have the responsibility of owning and running a store on my own. It would be the perfect way to combine my passion for books and my marketing know-how, plus get paid.
Piper flops into the chair across from me, startling me from my thoughts. “So, what do you say? Can I officially hire you and we’ll figure out the details from there?”
I don’t even hesitate. “Yes. Absolutely.”
*****
My awesome day turns into an even better night when I get two calls back to back: one from Celia, telling me she’ll be going out with people from work tonight, and one from Hugh asking if he can come over after the Village closes.
With a little over an hour to kill before Hugh arrives, I grab a notebook and start jotting down ideas for Piper.
-Book club where participants get a discount off each month’s book?
-Implement a store loyalty reward system?
-Social media contest—people take pics of the books they buy, themselves inside the store, at events that happen there, and then do a monthly gift card draw.
I’m still scribbling notes—and I do mean scribbling, because my brain is working at warp speed and my hand only moves so fast—when Hugh buzzes from downstairs. I greet him at the door, launching myself into his arms the moment he appears.
He lets out an‘oof’followed by a laugh as he wraps his arms around me and buries his face in my hair. “Nice to see you too.” He presses a kiss to the side of my head. Whatever he’s carrying bumps against my arm and then falls to the floor. “Ahh, fiddlesticks.”
I burst out laughing. “Did you just say ‘fiddlesticks’?”
