Chapter Eleven
Seth
“I ’LL SEE YOU TOMORROW !” I called to Mrs. Kennedy, as I stepped out of the hardware store and into the chilly afternoon air.
“Make sure you’re on time!” she yelled back. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Jorja had been dead right when she had warned me that the people who owned this place were a stickler for time, and I had learned the hard way that stepping through the door anything other than five minutes early for my shift would earn me a chewing-out.
But hey, it was a job, something to earn a little cash as I set up my new life here in Mastin Falls. When I had pointed at this place on the map, I never in a million years could have imagined that it would feel this good to be stepping out into the quiet streets, inhaling a big lungful of the frigid air. I thought I would spend a few weeks here and move on once the Christmas season was over, pick somewhere new and take off once more to find out what else was out there for me.
But instead, I found myself starting to grow comfortable in this place. Starting to feel like, maybe, I belonged here. I knew Jorja had a lot to do with that. As dangerous as it was for me to admit that I was starting to develop real feelings for her, I knew there was no denying it. No matter what I did, I couldn’t seem to get her out of my head—and I didn’t want to, either.
Setting up the book fair with her had been the highlight of my day. We had fallen into a routine, where I would finish up my shift at the hardware store and then head the few streets over to the Mastin Bookshelf to help plan a few more details of the event. It felt good to flex those muscles once more, and I was glad I could do something to help keep the place open. If I could have dipped into my own savings to do it, I would have, though I got the feeling that Jorja would have been quick to turn me down if I had offered. She didn’t seem like the type who took well to people trying to step in and fix things for her. She wanted to do it on her own terms, and I couldn’t blame her for that.
I noticed a couple of people looking at me on the street, probably wondering who this new arrival was. In a place as small as this, I knew I was bound to stand out, but I didn’t mind. It was strange, to go from the West Coast, where you could fade easily into a crowd like it was nothing, to somewhere like this, where it seemed as though everyone knew everyone’s business. I supposed I was going to have to get used to it, if I intended to stay.
There was a dusting of snow on the ground from the fall overnight, and it made the whole town look as though it had been lightly coated with confectioner’s sugar. I couldn’t get over how idyllic this place was, like something out of a postcard. It really did look like the little Christmas village Jorja had set up in the window of the shop, another thing she had adapted from her grandmother, she’d told me. I wish I’d had a chance to meet Maria, but I figured that helping keep her store afloat was about the best thing I could to do honor her memory.
But, when I pushed open the door to the shop, my heart dropped when I saw Jorja leaning on the counter, her head in her hands, staring at a pile of papers in front of her. I thought for a moment they were bills or something, but as I got closer, I could see they were all printed with the same thing.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her, and she shook her head, picking up one of the papers and handing it to me.
“The print shop made a mistake on these flyers.” She sighed. “Look, it’s the wrong date. They say the book fair’s on Tuesday, not Thursday. I can’t use these. And they won’t give me a refund.”
“Why not?” I exclaimed. “If it’s their mistake...”
“Because Wharton owns the print shop,” she replied, shoulders slumping down. “I don’t want to think that he would have put the word in to make them do this on purpose, but...” She shook her head, trailing off.
“I don’t have the time to print a new batch, “ she replied. “Or the money, either. I was going to use these to advertise it, but now...”
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “Here, can I borrow your laptop?”
I reached across the counter to her computer, and she pushed it toward me. I clicked around until I found a simple graphics program, and transcribed the correct information from the flyer on to the computer, along with some slightly more polished graphics that would read as well on social media as they did on real life.
She watched as I worked, and I could feel the tension leaking from her body as she took in what I was doing. She always seemed to jump to the worst case scenario, but I wanted to show her that she didn’t need to approach life like that, not always, not so constantly. I got it, I did. After everything Wharton had put her through, it was only natural that she was suspicious when things went wrong. But we had the permit, and we weren’t going to let Wharton get what he wanted. No matter how many dirty tricks he tried to pull in the process.
“Wow,” she muttered, when I handed the laptop back to her. “That’s... that’s way better than anything I could come up with.”
“Event planning,” I reminded her. “It’s not the first time I’ve done that.”
She finally cracked a smile. “Thank you,” she murmured, looking up at me over the top of her glasses.
“No problem,” I replied. “You can print out a few of these and post them to social media. You have social media accounts for the store, right?”
“I’m not quite that out of date.” She laughed. “Yes, I have social media accounts. I’ll put them up as soon as I get the chance.”
The two of us were supposed to be heading out for dinner this evening. I had suggested another get-together so we could focus on what we were going to do with the book fair, though, in truth, I really just wanted more time alone with her. I could tell that whatever walls she had put up had started to come down at last, and I was finding myself drawn to her, as far more than just a friend. Maybe I should have kept my distance, but there was this pull in my gut that I felt when we were together, as though someone or something was pulling me in her direction, and who was I to fight it?
There were boxes stacked up next to the counter, and she stepped over them and headed into the back office to upload the file. When she came back, I nodded to the stack.
“You need help unloading those?” I asked her.
She glanced down at them. “Oh, right, the boxes,” she sighed. “Haley’s just left on her trip, she was supposed to do them before she left, but I guess she ran out of time.”
“We can do it together, if you want,” I suggested.
She cocked an eyebrow at me. “What about dinner?”
I shrugged. “We could order in,” I replied.
“Are you sure?” she replied, biting her lip. “I don’t want you to think I just got you down here to work.”
“Jorja, I’m offering,” I reminded her gently.
“Then, yes,” she replied at once. “Yes, I really need help getting these books into the display before the fair. I want to make sure they’re all set up, and I don’t know when I’ll have time to do it in the next few days.”
We dialed the Italian place we’d met at for our first date, and ordered in a generous helping of pizza and garlic bread before we set about starting to unpack the boxes. They were packed with a mix of new bestsellers and classics, which she assured me usually did well over the Christmas season.
“People either want to seem cultured by giving their family classics,” she explained. “Or they just grab a new book that’s on the bestseller list because they don’t have any other ideas.”
“Or maybe it’s a carefully-chosen gift for a loved one,” I teased her. “You ever think about that?”
“I think about my bottom line,” she replied. “Well, mostly.”
“Have you read many of these?” I asked, gesturing to the pile of classics that we were currently stacking in a bookshelf close to the door.
“Oh, yeah, most of them,” she replied. “I want to know what I’m talking about when people come in here asking for recommendations.”
“You must be pretty well-read.”
“My grandma wouldn’t have had it any other way,” she said with a laugh. “She would give me a summer reading list every year when I finished up at school. The other kids would be outside playing, and I would only be able to join them when I’d done a certain number of chapters.”
“Damn, she sounds like a hell of a woman,” I remarked.
“She was,” she replied fondly. “You would have liked her, I think.”
“I bet I would.”
The pizza arrived, and I shifted the bookcase a little as she went to pick it up. When she came back, she frowned for a moment, staring at it as she tried to figure out what was different.
“I just moved it a little,” I replied. “Makes it look more inviting for people coming in. And they’ll be able to see some of the covers from the street outside. That’s how you get more people through the door.”
“And here I was thinking the power of books would be enough to do it,” she joked. “Thank you for this, Seth. You’ve been such a help.”
“And all you have to pay me in is pizza,” I replied, as I grabbed a slice from the box she was carrying.
She grinned. Damn, I loved that smile of hers. There was something so sweet about it, the way it lit up her whole face. Now she was starting to relax and get a little more comfortable with me, I could see her opening up, being a little more straight about her opinions and her feelings.
I could get used to that.
“Do you know what the weather is going to be like on the day of the fair?” I asked her, nodding outside, as we leaned on the counter and took a break to eat some pizza. “If it’s snowy, we should put up a marquee or something.”
“Oh, I haven’t even checked yet,” she replied, frowning and she fiddled with her laptop for a moment before she pulled up the local news.
“The weather’s on in about ten minutes, we can check then,” she told me.
“Good, I don’t want anything distracting me from my pizza,” I joked as I took another bite.
“How does it compare to the pizza on the West Coast?” she asked me, cocking her head to the side. “I bet they have some really good places to eat out there.”
“They do, but they’re not really known for their pizza,” I replied. “Plus, the company isn’t nearly as good.”
Her cheeks flushed a little when I said that, but, before I could follow up on it, the door chimed to announce a customer.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” Jorja called to them, but, when she saw who it was, her eyes widened and her lips parted in shock.
Wharton.
“We need to talk, Jorja,” Wharton told her, brushing straight past me and planting his hands on the counter to glare at her. I moved in next to her, gently placing my hand on her lower back to let her know that I had her. I didn’t know what he was trying to pull here, but I wasn’t going to allow him to intimidate her.
“What about?” she replied. She was doing everything she could to keep her voice calm, but I could sense something in her that was struggling.
“About the store,” Wharton replied, tapping his foot impatiently. “You’ve had time to consider my offer. When can we talk about signing this place over to me?”
She took a deep, shaky breath before she replied. “I’m not selling, Mr. Wharton.”
The words hung in the air between us, and I could tell he was utterly shocked. He stared at her in silence for a long moment, and then shook his head.
“I don’t think you understood me,” he replied, his voice dropping slightly, taking on a more threatening tone. She stared him down, not letting him get under her skin.
“I’ve considered your offer, and I’ve decided it’s not a good fit for me,” she told him. She was keeping calm, but I wasn’t sure he would be able to. The way he was glowering at her, it was obvious this was the very last thing he had expected. He was so used to getting everything he wanted, having someone stand up to him like this must have come as a complete and utter shock.
“So I’m going to decline,” she finished up. “Thank you for your interest, Mr. Wharton.”
He just stood there for a moment. The only sound was the local news playing quietly on her laptop.
He leaned forward slowly, narrowing his eyes at her, locking his gaze to hers as though making certain that she took in every word of this.
“You’re going to regret this, Jorja,” he growled to her. With that, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the store again.
Jorja slumped down on to the counter as soon as he was gone, and I could feel her shaking beneath my hand.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I soothed her, but she shook her head.
“I don’t know what I was thinking, going up against him like this,” she confessed. She took off her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a long, shaky breath.
“He’s going to take everything from me,” she continued. “He’s going to take the store, the house, all of it, I don’t... I don’t know what we can do.”
“No, he’s not,” I reminded her. “You’re doing the book fair, remember? And that’s going to bring in all the money you need to keep this place. And the house. You’re not going to lose anything.”
“If we can bring in enough money,” she muttered.
“We will,” I promised her. The way she was talking, it was like she saw this as the two of us against the world. I liked that. And I didn’t intend, for a second, to let her down as she struggled through all of this.
But then, a sound cut through the quiet between us—the weather report was finally on.
“...the blizzard of the decade!”
Both of us turned, and I saw her face pale in horror as she took in what was being announced.
She took a step toward the laptop and picked it up, staring down at the screen, as though she was willing it with every bit of strength in her not to be true.
But it was.
On Wednesday night, the night before the fair, they were predicting the blizzard of the decade. A blizzard that would shut down everything. Nobody would be leaving their houses, nobody would be out Christmas shopping, and nobody sure as hell would be attending a little outdoor book fair to save the shop.
My heart sank. This last attempt to rescue the store had fallen apart and I didn’t know if there was anything else we could do to save it from Wharton’s grasp.