Page 8 of Hate It with You

“I know I still have a lot to do, but I’ve been doing back-end work all week. It was a miracle I even got the bookshelves up.” I motion toward the empty bookshelves. With only two hours until opening, it’s not a great sign that all bookshelves and tables are empty.

At least the till is set up, though I’m not sure whether the discounts I’m offering will be profitable for me. That’s a problem for another day.

“Well, we better get this store stocked then, now shouldn’t we?” Ben begins to unload the cart, placing books on the tables near the front of the store. My eye twitches at the sight of the monster romance books being placed next to small-town romance books. Especially when that table was supposed to specifically be for an entirely different subgenre anyway.

“Okay, if you’re going to help, you have to at least put the books in the right place,” I tell him.

“What do you mean?”

“You have two different subgenres right next to each other. We need to organize by subgenre, here…” I give him the rundown of where everything goes. The table up front is for indie romance books. I was able to thrift a few more tables and now have separate sections for dark romance, small-town romance, and monster romance, with the rest organized alphabetically by author on the bookshelves.

He looks confused when I point out the tables, so I tell him I’ll take that on if he can stock the bookshelves. When he agrees, I run to the back to turn on my work playlist, and we get to work filling the shelves.

One hour later, and I’m already exhausted. I hate to admit it, but I appreciate Ben’s help, even if I did have to reorganize some of the books. He’s not as big of a reader as me, and when he does read, it’s never romance.

“You know half of the shit in here is broken, right?” Ben asks me from where he’s perched on the front counter.

I’ve finished putting the cart away and approach him from behind the counter as I shoo him off it.

“What do you mean?” I check the tablet I have set up as my checkout area, inspecting it for any cracks or signs of not working.

“No, not that.” He waves off my inspection of the tablet. “I meant this building. It’s cute, but is this…sustainable?” He looks around, his nose scrunching up as though it smells bad. Which I know isn’t true given the amount of money I’ve forked out on candles alone this past month.

“It’s not that bad. It’s cozy. Besides, anything newer and I wouldn’t have been able to afford it. I got an unbelievable deal on this place,” I respond.

He levels me with a look. “The back room only has one out of three working lights. The thermostat is set to sixty and won’t change. Trust me, I tried earlier”—he shudders—“and don’t even get me started on the creaky doors or the fact that the shower barely stayed lukewarm for five minutes this morning.”

It’s true, this place needs a bit more work than I was expecting, but I couldn’t pass it up. I still don’t know how Theo got me such a great deal on a place like this, but I wasn’t going to go off complaining to the landlord about a few cosmetic repairs and risk losing the space.

“It has character. Every place that has character needs a little bit of work.” I shrug. “I’ll get around to fixing those things eventually.”

Ben sighs as he shakes his head. “The lights and the doors I’m sure you can fix. Hell, I’ll even take a look at them while I’m visiting, but you’ll need a professional for the other things.”

I try to hide my wince as I look at my brother. “I don’t exactly have the money for a professional.”

“What about the landlord? They can fix it.”

“I also haven’t exactly met the landlord yet.” My wince is harder to hide this time.

“You haven’t met the landlord?” His words come out slowly as he processes his shock. I respond with a simple headshake, and he continues, “Doesn’t the landlord live next to you?” The bite in his voice is one I’m not expecting.

“Yes, but I haven’t seen them. Besides, I’m getting such a good price that I don’t want to ruin it. What if they see me and decide to charge more because of my age? Or what if I complain about things needing to be fixed and they bill me for it? I can’t afford any extra charges right now.”

“And your safety? What about that?” he snaps.

Now it’s my turn to level him with a look, although my words are soft as they leave my mouth, in an attempt to reassure my brother. “I’m safe, Benny, you know I am.”

He nods briefly before asking, “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

I’m busying myself with the display of bookmarks on the counter when his softened tone makes me pause.

Looking up at my brother, I ask, “Yes. Is there a reason you’re so concerned about my safety?” I ask cautiously as my eyebrows furrow. He begins fidgeting with his hoodie drawstrings, a telltale sign that he’s hiding something from me.

“Just checking in. That’s all.” He shrugs. When he leans against the counter casually, I decide to drop the conversation for now.

Making my way over to the front of the store, I pull back the blinds, allowing the early spring sunshine to wash over the now fully stocked bookstore. I don’t allow myself to enjoy the moment for what it is before I’m zeroing in on the various empty sticker and bookmark displays that still need to be filled. When my stomach growls, I listen to it, not wanting a repeat of the dreaded bookshelf night.

It only takes me a few strides to get back to Ben. Grabbing my wallet off the counter, I give him his last task of the day. “Here, take my card and go get us some sandwiches”—I hand Ben my card—“and try to be back before opening. I won’t have time to eat once we’re open. Well, if people show up, that is.” After all, it is a Friday, so I’m not sure how many people to expect.