Chapter 18
What did you bring me? George asked Harper as she walked into Penny’s apartment, carrying a coffee carrier.
Nothing. Maggie was fresh out of tuna juice,she said, as George stood vigil over a bowl. Her eyes widened when she saw the food and water bowls. “You’re feeding him, too? Fur face is a con man in disguise.” She handed a cup to Penny, shaking her head.
I should take offense, but I won’t.He rolled his eyes up at her.
Don’t give me those puppy-dog eyes, cat. I’m immune.
“Thanks for the coffee. Maggie poured so much honey tea into me yesterday I spent most of my time hopping between the couch and the bathroom.”
“Did the tea help?”
“No, nothing does other than time, which I don’t have. This is our busiest season, and I’m missing it because of this stupid ankle,” Penny said, pointing to the wrapped ankle propped on the ottoman in front of her.
“Don’t forget the colorful stitches, either. You’re not ready for public consumption yet.” Penny saluted Harper with her middle finger, but Harper only laughed. It took more than the bird to offend her. She patted Penny’s good leg as she sat next to her. “Cheer up. In a few days, your cold will have weakened, and Maggie can work her magic to reduce the swelling on your ankle and heal your cut.” Harper plopped her feet next to Penny’s. It looked like she planned to settle in for a long chat. Penny could use the company, and it would be nice to catch up with her.
“I just feel so stupid. Who falls off a ladder?” Penny said.
“A witch with a cold who was probably daydreaming about a certain Tetons football player.”
Penny shifted on the couch to sit taller. Harper had ambushed her. This wasn’t a sisterly chat. This was an interrogation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your telltale blush says otherwise.”
“It’s the fever.”
“Or it could be the scorching hot kiss I saw a while ago,” Harper said, with a knowing look over the rim of her carry out cup.
“When?” They’d been careful. Neither of them wanted people up in their business over a temporary relationship. Or romance. Or fling, or whatever this was. It would be easier if she knew what to label this. Labels were important. They kept the world organized and safe, like Proceed with Caution, which they should slap on Harper’s forehead. Or maybe Penny’s heart.
“In his driveway. Hard to miss with all the sparks coming off the two of you. I turned on the sidelight, hoping to cover them up.”
“Wait. Actual sparks?” Penny asked.
“You haven’t seen them?”
“My eyes are usually closed.”
“Well, open them up next time. It’s pops of color hovering around you. It’s really cool, and they look like some sort of Hollywood special effect.”
“I didn’t know we could do that.”
“I didn’t know we could either. Should I be worried?”
Penny snorted. “About me and Bash? No. It’s just two people helping each other. He doesn’t even read. Can you see me with a nonreader?”
“Stranger things have happened. Look at Maggie making googly eyes at Lucas when a few months ago she would have crossed the street to avoid him.”
“Well. I’m a tougher nut to crack than Maggie.”
More like a delusional nutcase, if you ask me, George said, hopping up on the couch and curling next to Penny. Harper laughed as she stood, while Penny scowled at the cat.
“Just be careful and call if you need anything,” Harper said as she walked out the door, leaving it open enough for a bothersome cat to go back and forth as he pleased.
“I will.” Penny appreciated the coffee, but not Harper’s concern. She was a grown woman, and she’d managed her dating life just fine without her big sister’s guidance. A big sister who’d never been in a long-term relationship.
George narrowed his eyes. A football season isn’t a long-term relationship, either. Although, for you, it’s a record.
I can take you back to Maggie’s,Penny said.
On that ankle? Doubt it. Face it, you’re stuck with me for another day.
Another endless day stuck lying on the couch with only bathroom breaks and food to break up the day.Penny jammed a pillow behind her head and sighed.
Great, isn’t it?Penny rubbed George under the chin until he purred. You could read to me?
Like what? she asked.
I’ve heard Old Yeller is good.
That’s a hard pass. I’m not that desperate.
We could binge something? George was a sucker for reality TV. He loved the Real Housewives franchise, especially since the cat fights didn’t involve cats, just poorly behaved humans.
Maybe later.
That means no. George swished his tail across her face. Penny pulled up the store’s security feed on her laptop. Get Lost would open in a few minutes and she could watch the shoppers for a while. I’m going to hobble to the bathroom. Do you need anything while I’m up? she asked, grabbing the cane her dad had brought her yesterday. She levered herself off the couch and gasped when she tested her ankle. If this cold didn’t weaken soon so Maggie could work her magic, Penny would miss another day at work.
Who’s the new guy?George asked, moving closer to the screen.
Penny looked over shoulder and collapsed on the couch. George yowled and ran to the other end.
Watch it,he hissed. Don’t squish the kitty.
Penny forgot about her bathroom journey as the screen captured her full attention. Elspeth showed Bash how to use the register and where they kept Penny’s detailed instruction manual on how to handle customer issues. It looked like she explained the customer hold area and when they disappeared briefly, Penny imagined Elspeth giving him a quick tour of the store, even though Bash probably knew its layout by heart. Bash greeted the UPS man and carried the boxes back to the storeroom. He shelved books. He helped customers find books, and it looked like he may have even upsold some of them into buying more books. Bash looked happy and at home, like he was enjoying working in a bookstore on his day off.
He’s a reader, she realized, feeling a warm glow that had nothing to do with her pain or cold medicines.
That’s good, George said, climbing up her chest and head-butting her under the chin.
Maybe.
Oh-oh,said George, looking at her.
Oh-oh indeed.Penny sighed, slumping back, and cuddling him to her chest.
“Take this,” Elspeth said, handing him a slip of paper. “It’s the code to get into the third floor so you can check on Penny before you leave.”
“I don’t want to disturb her.”
“I’m sure she’ll have her door open. She and Maggie are at the end, and they usually keep their doors open so George can harass both of them.”
“That sounds unsafe, especially if this George-character has free range.”
“He’s a menace, but they are very safe. Don’t worry. Alison and Four carefully vetted all the tenants up there. Go.” Elspeth shooed him away. “You’ll only be in my way if you stay.”
Bash nodded and went to the office to grab his coat. Snow flurries had burst throughout the day, but nothing stuck. He wasn’t ready for snow, but he was grateful that the remaining outdoor games were in warm-weather stadiums.
He waved to Elspeth as he left and took the stairs to the third floor two at a time. It felt good to move. He’d felt cooped up all day, standing on his feet and slowly walking with customers. Maggie had brought them coffees from Brewster’s and some scones she’d made. He’d considered it lunch and hoped Penny had something to eat in her apartment.
Bash stepped into her apartment. An electric kettle was simmering in the small kitchen off to the side and the living room was in front of him. He couldn’t see Penny—only floor-to-ceiling bookshelves—but he heard her. “You can’t ignore this, Tanya, you need to tell someone…I know, but if he’s making you uncomfortable, tell Michael to move him to another editor… He said it was your word over his? Report him. I don’t care if his dad is his boss.” Bash wondered if Penny was talking to her publishing friend in New York City, and he raked his brain for publishers that might fit this profile. There were several, but he knew with some discrete inquiries, he could narrow down the list. “I know it’s not that easy.”
He heard her huff as a kitchen cupboard door opened. On its own. A mug floated down to the counter. The kettle clicked off with steam billowing from its spout as it poured boiling water into the mug on the counter. Bash rubbed his eyes and leaned forward. A honey jar, identical to the one at his house, opened. Then a drawer opened, and a spoon floated out and dipped itself into the jar. It drizzled honey into the mug and stirred before scooping out the tea bag. The bag’s string bound the spoon and bag together, gently squeezing out the excess tea. Then the mug sailed from the kitchen to the living room, almost colliding with a book in midair. The book landed on an ottoman, and he saw Penny’s slender hand reach for the mug.
“Then set up some networking lunches and update your resume. You deserve better than this… Promise?… Yes, I’ll stay away from ladders… Bye.”
For the first time in a long time, Bash didn’t know what to do. He wanted to see Penny and read her the riot act for climbing on the ladder, but he also wanted to process the last few minutes. Cupboards didn’t open spontaneously, and mugs didn’t fly across rooms, unless… A cat hissed behind him before sinking his claws into Bash’s calf. “What the—”
“Bash?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s me.” He stumbled into the room, rubbing his calf.
“I see you met George.” Ah, cat not human, but still a menace.
“Charming. Is he up-to-date on his shots?” Bash asked, standing in front of the bookcases. She’d scattered her travel mementos between books and framed photos. It was a jumbled mess, the opposite of the uber-organized woman lying on the couch behind him. Which is the real Penny? Or maybe it’s witch is the real Penny?
“Which was your favorite?” he asked, looking at her over her shoulder. His gut clenched. She looked like some guys after a game, beaten and exhausted.
“That’s like asking a mother to pick a favorite child. I liked them all, and it varies. When it’s freezing in January, The Galapagos is my favorite place and in the heat of the summer, I’d say Edinburgh or the Canadian Rockies.”
“Any trips planned?” He knew the answer, but he needed her to say it to prove he hadn’t imagined the last five minutes.
“Yes. Scotland and France.” She moved to the middle of the couch and patted her vacated seat.
“I should go. You look tired.”
“I am, but if you leave now, you won’t get to tell me I should have listened and waited for you.”
“Can’t say no to a gift like that.” Bash sat and stretched his arm across the back of the couch. Penny melted into him like she always did, and he relaxed. Witch or not, she still felt great in his arms. “How’s the ankle?”
“Sprained.”
“And the head?”
“Attached.”
“Your small-talk skills need work,” he teased.
“Aren’t we past that?”
Bash nodded, but realized she couldn’t see since she was using him as a personal recliner. “Yes, we are.” His voice sounded scratchy, but she didn’t comment on it. “You must be going stir-crazy.”
“A bit, but everyone’s stopped in to check on me and Maggie’s become smothering.”
“Rough life to have so many people care about you,” he grumbled, wondering if anyone would check on him that way. “Read anything good?”
“No, I spent most of the day glued to my screen watching Mr. The-Movie’s-Always-Better sell books like he’s done it all his life.” She sounded happy.
“Creeper.”
Penny laughed. He’d seen the cameras, one in each corner and one over the register, but he didn’t think they were operational, just fake deterrents.
“How did you know everything?”
“I cheated. I watched some YouTube videos on top sellers and listened to a podcast this morning.” Bash prayed the cameras didn’t have audio. If they did, Penny probably heard his in-depth conversations and book recommendations, not someone faking their way through the day. Or faking it in a relationship.
If they’d evolved past small talk, shouldn’t he tell her the truth? He cleared his throat, unsure if she’d welcome his confession. “I try to read before bed. It helps me wind down.”
“You know books,” she said, sounding pleased.
“I do. And you’re a world traveler and part owner in Get Lost.”
“I am.” He twirled a piece of her hair around his finger as the silence of their discoveries and the freedom of their confessions settled on them. It felt good. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Misconception.”
“And you, Ms. Misperception,” he said, chuckling. “Tell me how you came to be a partner.” To his surprise, she told him everything Cal had. Penny wasn’t hiding anything from him, other than the witch stuff. Which he would not ask her about. Not until he’d done a lot of research. Or unless she brought it up.
“So right now I own twenty percent, and if we beat our income goal by five percent, I’ll get an additional three percent on top of my standard two percent.” Bash loosened his jaw. For the work Penny did and her creative ideas, she should own more of the company than a measly twenty percent. “But it probably won’t happen this year. Gloria Sebastian’s book signing will be a tremendous help, but it will take a miracle to get to five percent above.”
“Hey, don’t give up,”—he dropped a kiss on her head—“the game’s not over yet.”
“Unless someone’s got a retail Hail Mary shot, it probably is.”
“Who knows? It’s a magical season where wishes come true, right?” She didn’t flinch at the word magic.
“You spent too much time in the kids’ book section today.”
“Maybe, but I also know quitters give up and you’re not a quitter. You know what else I know?”
“What?” she asked, looking up at him.
“I’m hungry and there’s very few problems that pizza can’t solve. Okay?”
“Pizza sounds perfect. But first, can you carry me into the shower? When I’m done, I can wrap a towel around myself, and you can lift me out. Please?” she added when he didn’t respond.
He exhaled slowly through his nose, hoping for control. “Sure, and I’ll grab you clean clothes, too.” And the biggest towel I can find, Bash thought before saying a quick prayer that Penny only owned cotton granny-panties and sensible bras, assuming she’d want a bra. He scrubbed his hand down his face. Odds were not in his favor. Penny Buchanan surprised him at every turn, and he was a sucker for surprises.