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“You did and it is. Truth is, I don’t have the money to make it splashy.” I wander over to the first aisle and start straightening the books, tracing the spines with a finger. “But I don’t want this flashy. This isn’t a big chain bookstore. It’s mine, and it’s little and bells and whistles won’t do anything. People come in for books.”
“And all the sugar you give away.”
“Sugar is an important food group.”
He goes to say something, but shakes his head. “You’re a pushover, Zoey. That woman could afford to buy all the cookies she scarfed, and you charged her ten bucks for fifteen books.”
“She’s a neighbor.”
“With the same name as the bar on the other corner.”
I press my lips together. “I run my business my way, Magnus. I know you worked in marketing and it’s probably all about flash and the sale and money, but I’m not. I like helping out. She likes my books and the sweets.”
“And there was Mikey yesterday.”
“He’s a kid. I give him books to feed his mind and pad out his lunch box for school by feeding his soul. I’d rather he eat some homemade baked goods than a Twinkie.”
“He probably eats both. He’s what? Fourteen? Fifteen? Do you know the kind of appetites boys that age have?”
“I’m an only child.”
“You’re lucky,” he mutters.
“You have siblings?”
Before he can answer, the doorbell dings and thunder rolls and I greet my new customer with a smile. “Come on, Magnus. If this guy buys something he can be your first sale.”
I make chit chat with the man and answer all his questions. I keep waiting for Magnus to chime in, but he doesn’t. He just watches. I’m a little surprised, but then again he doesn’t know where everything is, so I just lead the man off in search of his World War books.
Magnus mangles the sale so badly that I end up giving the guy a deep discount. And a cookie. And a slice of cake.
The day wears on and he doesn’t really improve and I keep running around like I have three jobs instead of the one.
The only thing Magnus gets is the espresso machine. It’s like he’s never stepped foot in a lowly store before in his life, and I put it all down to first day jitters. Not to mention worry about his gran.
I’m about to let him go early when the sky cracks loud with thunder and the place lights up supernova bright. And the heavens open.
People scatter on the street and soon it’s only the few brave souls dashing about on whatever important business they have because umbrellas don’t seem to be much good against this type of downpour.
“Do you want to go?” The sky grows even darker and it’s not even four p.m. I thread my hands together, feeling bad because he didn’t arrive with an umbrella. “It’s pretty bad out there, but…”
“I can stay.” He doesn’t sound bothered.
“You can call your gran. Let her know you’re on your way, or if you want to wait until it lets up, that you’ll be late.”
“Who?” He stops, stares at me. “Sorry,” he says with a laugh, “I thought you said Brad.”
“Who’s Brad?”
“I don’t know.”
I stare back and then start laughing. “Good to know that’s not her name.”
“She’s not expecting me today.”
“Oh. I thought she was living with you.”
“Just nearby.” He turns, picks up the feather duster and studies the feathers like he’s never seen one before. “I told her I’d be in tomorrow, as I didn’t know when I’d finish today.”
