Chapter Thirteen
Jax arrived at the store at her usual time and was surprised to see several people waiting outside the front door. Her stomach
sank as she guessed they were here to talk to her about the diary issue. Or rather the fact that their trust in her and the
store had been shattered. She parked and hurried around to the front.
“We don’t open for another hour and a half,” she told them.
A woman she recognized but didn’t know by name stepped forward. “I saw the email blast you sent out yesterday. I understand
the problem, but I don’t want to wait to be called in the lottery. I know exactly where my diary is. I want to go first, pull
out one brick and take it.”
A couple of other people nodded.
“Me, too,” another woman said. “I don’t need to guess.”
A teenage boy added, “I have to get it before someone else reads it.” He looked pale and worried. “I really have to.”
“There aren’t any markings,” she told the small crowd. “There aren’t any points of reference.”
“I counted from the top and side,” he said frantically. “I know where it is.”
“Okay.” Jax drew in a breath. “If you know where your diary is, you can go before the lottery. But not until we open. Everyone will get the same chance at the same time.”
There was mild grumbling but eventually everyone left. Jax unlocked the front door, went in and locked it behind her. She
had a bad feeling today was going to be a tough day.
“There was a crowd,” Marcus said, walking toward her. “They must be eager to get their diaries.”
“You have no idea.” She motioned to the departing group. “They claim to know exactly where their diaries are, even without
the symbols on the bricks. I’m going to give them one chance to claim their diaries.”
He started to speak but she held up her hand. “No. You’re not going to apologize again. It was a mistake, one you didn’t make,
and we’re dealing.”
“This is more work for you.”
She shrugged. “It happens.”
She went upstairs to let out Ramon, then started her day, all the while watching the clock. Exactly at ten she went to unlock
the front door, but came to a stop, her keys nearly slipping from her fingers. Close to a hundred people had gathered in front
of the store, she thought in amazement. Cheryl joined her, then glanced outside.
“Oh, my God! Where did they come from?”
“Probably from their homes,” Jax said dryly. “You’re the one who sent out the announcement yesterday.”
“I know but I thought maybe twenty people would show up. I had no idea the diaries were such a thing. Let me get the stanchions
we use when we have the big-time authors in for a signing. We’ll need to control the crowd.”
Jax cracked the door. “Give us a minute, please. We’re going to have you get in line to keep things organized.”
She helped Cheryl quickly set up the stanchions. They secured the belts between the posts to form two lines, then she returned
to the front door and pushed it open.
“If you know exactly where your diary is, get in the left line. If you want to be in the lottery, get in the right line.”
She repeated the instructions eight or nine more times, until everyone had chosen a line, then she went into the center of
the store and picked up the microphone that broadcast over the PA system.
“Good morning,” she said. “Thanks for coming and for understanding this isn’t how we’d expected to handle the return of your
diaries.”
“Shit happens,” a guy in the lottery line called loudly.
Jax held in a groan, then mentally crossed her fingers that Ramon hadn’t heard him. Luck was not on her side. Seconds later
her parrot flew into view.
“Shit happens! Shit happens!”
Nearly everyone laughed. Cheryl’s eyes brightened with amusement.
“Oh, Ramon,” she chided. “You can’t talk like that in front of the children. If you do, no story hour for you.”
“Et tu, Brute,” he said in a British accent, followed by a loud “Shit happens!”
There was more laughter. Marcus walked over.
“I can’t decide if that’s better or worse than ‘you getting laid.’”
“Me, either.” She swallowed. “You ready?”
He motioned to the tall ladder he’d brought with him—the one that people could use to reach the higher bricks.
“I’ll keep it steady.”
Jax waved to the first person in the line on the left. The fortysomething woman hurried up and pointed to the wall.
“Six down, five from the left.”
Marcus positioned the ladder where she indicated. The woman climbed the rungs until she could reach her brick. She carefully
pulled it loose and withdrew a slim diary. After glancing at the first page, she nodded once and put her brick back in place.
“Got it,” she said, carefully tucking the diary into her bag. “Thanks for not making me do the lottery.”
“Sure.”
The teenage boy was next. He pulled out his diary and ran from the store. The rest of the “I know where it is” group went
quickly. By the time they were done, even more people had shown up in the store. Cheryl collected names while a few of the
staff moved the stanchions to keep the lines orderly.
Jax used her hand to mix up the names in the huge bowl they used for drawings, then pulled the first one.
“Allison McHenry.”
A woman got out of line and approached the wall. She stared at it.
“It really is blank,” she murmured. “I know my diary was toward the middle but in the top half.”
Marcus climbed the ladder, a piece of chalk in his hand. “Tell me where you want your four-by-four square.”
She pointed and he carefully drew out her area. Once he’d climbed down, Allison went up the ladder and removed the top left
brick. She pulled out the diary and opened it, then shook her head.
“It’s not this one.”
She returned the diary and the brick, then went on to the next. When she pulled out the third diary and opened it to read
the first page, she gasped.
“Not a good one,” Ramon called.
People laughed.
“Actually it is a good one,” Allison told him. “But it’s not my diary.”
She found hers on her eighth try.
“Got it!” She climbed down, then moved next to Jax. “Someone in town got implants and is afraid to tell anyone.”
“I didn’t need to know that.”
Allison grinned. “Tell me about it. Now I’m going to be checking out all my friends to figure out if it’s one of them.”
The next person called to find their diary was an older woman with a pinched expression. She glared at Jax.
“You have handled this all very poorly. We trusted you to keep our secrets and now we’re living in a very bad reality TV show.
I expected better of you.”
Marcus stepped between them. “What happened wasn’t her fault. One of my guys thought he was helping when he washed the wall.
It was an honest mistake. I’m guessing you’ve made at least a couple of mistakes in your life, so I’m sure you understand
how that sort of thing happens.”
The woman narrowed her eyes. “And where is your incompetent employee? I’d like to tell him exactly what I think of him.”
“Working on another job. I didn’t want him to have to deal with people like you.”
She sniffed, then pointed to the wall. “My diary is toward the bottom, on the right.” She held out her hand for the chalk,
then drew a square around her sixteen bricks. She found her diary on her third try and pressed it to her chest.
“I’ll never trust you with this again,” she told Jax.
“Probably for the best,” Jax said easily as Ramon flew down. When he landed on her outstretched hand, he flapped his wings
at the older woman, as if trying to scare her away.
“I am the Lorax.”
“You’re a ridiculous bird.”
With that, she turned and left. Jax stroked Ramon.
“I think you’re very handsome and brave.”
He nuzzled her cheek.
And so it went. By one, everyone who showed up had claimed their diary. Cheryl’s count put the total number taken at one hundred
and twenty-two.
“Which leaves a lot of diaries in the wall,” Jax said. “I have no idea what to do with them.”
“We can note where they are by counting bricks, then take them out,” Cheryl told her. “They have to be moved so the wall can come down.”
“You’re right. I’ll lock them in that cabinet in the storeroom. That way they’ll be safe. When the wall goes back up, we’ll
replace them and use a special marking. In case someone shows up, looking for theirs.”
It was an imperfect plan, but the best she had. She retreated to her office where she spent a half hour clearing her email.
Marcus showed up as she was finishing.
“It’s quieter out there,” he said.
“I think we’re done with diary claiming. I’m going to make a note of where the remaining ones are so they can be put back,
then store them in a locked cabinet while your guys do the repairs.”
“That’ll work.”
He mentioned something about the timing of the wall coming down but she wasn’t really listening. Instead she found herself
thinking Marcus really was good-looking. And caring. He had a good sense of humor and showed up when he said. All excellent
qualities in a man.
“You’re not listening,” he said, his tone more amused than annoyed.
“You’re right. Sorry.” She stood. “Why won’t you ask out my sister? It would solve a lot of problems for me if you two started
going out.”
“I’m not interested in your sister.”
She waved that away. “You’ve mentioned that before. I don’t get it. She’s a catch. Is there someone else?”
“I’m not interested in your sister,” he repeated, his gaze locking on hers. “I’m interested in you.”
She stared at him, sure she must have misheard. Interested in . . . “I don’t understand,” she said, feeling both hot and cold
at the same time, not to mention confused but also tingly and intrigued. “Me? I’m not anyone special and—”
But before she could finish her sentence, he walked around the desk and put his hand on her waist. Both the proximity and the touch silenced her. For a long second they just looked at each other, then he lowered his head and lightly brushed his mouth against hers.
She’d had plenty of warning—she could have pulled away—and yet she didn’t. She stood there unmoving, as if frozen by shock