Page 66 of Matchmaking On The Menu

“You can’t do that,” I say, lowering my voice like we’re discussing something deeply serious. “People rely on you.”

He frowns. “They do?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “You are the only specialist store in this town.”

Pause.

“That’s not even an exaggeration.”

He considers that. Hook set.

“But if no one’s coming in…” he starts.

“Then you’re not giving them a reason to,” I cut in smoothly.

He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

I lean my elbows on the counter like I do this sort of thing all the time.

“Happy hour.”

He stares at me.

“For printing?”

“Yes.”

His face does a full reset.

“Think about it,” I continue, warming up now. “Limited-time deals. Three to five on Sundays. You create urgency, people come in, they bring things they’ve been putting off. Frames, printing, whatever else you do in this…” I gesture broadly, “…multi-purpose empire.”

His mouth twitches and I hold my breath.

“Three to five?” he repeats.

“Three to five,” I confirm. “After church, before dinner. You catch them right in the middle of the day when they’re already out.”

He crosses his arms, thinking. I wait and don’t push, which isn’t easy for me. I need for him to feel like it’s his idea.

“That could actually work,” he says slowly.

“It will work,” I say, with absolute confidence I have not earned.

He studies me for a second, then nods. “All right. I’ll try it.”

Victory.

He points at me. “I owe you one.”

Oh.

Oh, he really shouldn’t have said that.

I smile sweetly. “Funny you should mention that…”

He narrows his eyes slightly.

Good instincts.