Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ella
“I like Corduroy. My dad reads it to me before bed!”
From: lastpage@
To: HenryMartin@
Monday, March 8, 8:21 PM
Henry,
I have to say it’s very fitting that you have an Outlook email. Very “man in a suit set out to ruin my life” of you.
This email is a temporary burying of the hatchet because, like I said, I care more about the fate of the store than despising you.
Tomorrow, I can give you a rundown of the store. How does 8AM sound? This’ll give us plenty of time before the booksellers arrive and inevitably meddle. Store opens at 9:30 and we do the morning meeting at 9. The back door will be unlocked and I’ll be in Leo’s office. Let me know.
Best,
Ella
From: HenryMartin@
To: lastpage@
Monday, March 8, 9:15 PM
Hi Ella,
I have an Outlook account because this is my business email.
I’m a normal person and have a personal Gmail account like the rest of the world.
I also wear clothes other than suits. I didn’t know what to expect, so I wanted to dress nice and make a good impression. Guess I could’ve worn anything, huh?
I’m sorry to say, but I won’t be able to come in tomorrow.
Turns out my grandfather had a storage unit that I knew nothing about and I either have to empty it all out by tomorrow or pay for a whole other month.
I can come in on Wednesday. I’m sure nothing is that pressing for the bookstore. It should all be pretty simple.
Thanks,
Henry
From: lastpage@
To: HenryMartin@
Monday, March 8, 9:17 PM
Right, because I’m just a simple bookseller so if I can figure it out, you can too?
Just because you waltz in with a suit doesn’t mean you know everything.
There’s a specific way this store has to be run, Henry.
From: HenryMartin@
To: lastpage@
Monday, March 8, 9:18 PM
I’m sorry I said that earlier. That’s not what I meant. It’s one store, not a chain, so it must be easier comparatively. I’m not claiming to know everything. Can you please just email me whatever you want to discuss?
From: lastpage@
To: HenryMartin@
Monday, March 8, 9:32 PM
Do you even care? Or are you just going to run it your way?
I’m attaching a Word doc with some of the notes I took on scheduling and buying books for the store. I’m also attaching the schedule for next week.
From: HenryMartin@
To: lastpage@
Monday, March 8, 10:05 PM
I’m going to run it in the best way I can, which might mean I change some things. But I’d still like to know.
From: lastpage@
To: HenryMartin@
Monday, March 8, 10:06 PM
Well, obviously, I don’t think you’re going to run it Leo’s or my way. Instead every one of our customers is going to be recommended self-help books that teach you a lack of empathy.
From: HenryMartin@
To: lastpage@
Monday, March 8, 10:06 PM
I actually don’t read all that much. So no need for the not so subtle dig.
From: lastpage@
To: HenryMartin@
Monday, March 8, 10:06 PM
What on Earth do you mean you don’t read all that much?
From: HenryMartin@
To: lastpage@
Monday, March 8, 10:07 PM
I don’t really have the time to read.
From: lastpage@
To: HenryMartin@
Monday, March 8, 10:07 PM
But you’re Leo’s grandson?!?
From: HenryMartin@
To: lastpage@
Monday, March 8, 10:07 PM
I don’t think reading is a hereditary gene.
From: lastpage@
To: HenryMartin@
Monday, March 8, 10:08 PM
Right, just so we’re clear: You don’t really read all that much, you worked in a bookstore for a handful of weeks as a teen, and you’re going to be the owner. Whereas I’ve worked at The Last Page for the majority of my life, am reading a book between our emails, and I’m going to stay a bookseller.
From: HenryMartin@
To: lastpage@
Monday, March 8, 10:10 PM
… A manager.
From: lastpage@
To: HenryMartin@
Monday, March 8, 10:11 PM
What’s that pesky hatchet doing in my hand?
I’ll see you Wednesday.
Henry did not come in at eight AM on Wednesday like we’d agreed upon. Instead, I got a short email that said, “Got caught up. I’ll be there at 9 AM.”
He also sent me his own version of the schedule since he wanted “to hit the ground running” so he could familiarize himself with the staff and store layout.
I took one glance at it and balked. He had messed everything up.
Joey—Joey—was in erotica. He was probably the horniest person I knew.
He wouldn’t shelve, he’d just sit there and read the smutty scenes (which, you know, fair).
Or worse, he’d find a way to sneak into Espionage and make out with Stewart again.
I wasn’t trying to be a dick over email (even though I was feeling bitter), but I wanted him to know the basics of the store before he changed everything and made my life hell. But it seemed like he thought he knew everything. It was nothing I hadn’t dealt with before.
Since I was single in New York City and wanted a family one day, I had to suffer the dating scene here.
Nearly every man who wore a suit and worked in an office had some important title like “operating officer” or “directing director” or something dumb like that.
Whenever I told them I was a bookseller, they’d lean forward, brows furrowed, and ask, “But what do you plan to do after?”
Being a bookseller didn’t mean I was smarter than anyone.
And working retail instead of in some skyscraper in FiDi with an apartment in Murray Hill didn’t mean I was dumber either.
I probably read more than any of those douchebags, and certainly Henry.
But because I worked in retail, I was immediately undesirable to these ladder-climbing suck-ups.
Even though Henry apologized, I was hesitant to give him the benefit of the doubt and another chance to make me feel small.
Joey and Stewart were the first of the booksellers to clock in, donning sunglasses with their arms wrapped around each other’s waists.
There were two shifts at The Last Page. People’s schedules usually didn’t change because we only had two part-timers.
The morning booksellers always knew they were in for an early start, but that didn’t deter them from late nights in Manhattan.
Leo had loved to play pranks on them and do the morning meeting from the intercom or blast Celine Dion.
It was a testament to how good he was that he could do that and we all still loved him at the end of the day.
Once everyone came in, my shoulders relaxed a bit. Henry was the only one not here; if I was lucky, he wasn’t coming at all. If he took a back seat to running the store, I could just pretend I was the owner and run it the way I wanted.
“Good morning, everyone,” I said, still sitting on the desk, my legs swinging.
“Too loud,” Mabel winced, with shades over her eyes. At her old age (which none of us really knew. She insisted on keeping it a secret and the lore was always passed around inaccurately), she was a dedicated clubber, even if the hangover was killer.
“Well today is particularly happy because I’m the one running the morning meeting,” I said brightly.
“We have a few notes before I get into today’s schedule.
Please remember when you’re organizing books to go to their respective carts to double check the label for the genre.
We had a lot of American History in the fascism section—”
“I did that on purpose,” Stewart said, lifting his chin. “I think it’s the same thing.”
“Okay, well it’s not. So going forward—”
“Is free speech now barred at The Last Page?”
“A book on George Washington doesn’t belong in fascism,” I replied, gripping the edges of my clipboard. “Especially a children’s biography.”
“He’s the founder of fascism, no matter what age you are,” Stewart said matter-of-factly.
“Is he the hot one?” Ameerah whispered to Ren.
“No, that’s Abraham Lincoln,” Ren whispered back.
Ameerah’s nose scrunched up. “Are you sure? With that top hat?”
“Still better than George,” Ren replied.
“He’s a founding father, have some respect,” Jack snapped.
Stewart scoffed. “When America respects—”
“Okay, okay, enough,” I said. “The only other note is to make sure that when someone comes to the info desk to request a book, we walk them to the book and place it in their hands.” I shot Jack a look. “Even if you’re at a really good part in your book.”
Jack said nothing but rolled his eyes. Technically, no one was allowed to read while we were working, but Leo had always turned a blind eye to it. Mostly because he was guilty of doing it, too.
“Schedule is the same as usual, with just a few differences,” I said, pulling up the schedule I created on my phone after Henry sent over the blueprints for World War III. “Alice called out today, so Ameerah, can you—”
“I’m here!”
A voice rang through the store. We all turned toward the back entrance. Henry rushed through, dressed a lot more casually this time. Gone was the suit, replaced with dark jeans and a navy sweater peeking through that brown jacket I saw the first time we met.
Henry’s cheeks and nose were rosy from outside. This broad man looked adorable when he was cold and a little frazzled. I hated him for it.
As he weaved through the tables and tables of books, his elbow snagged on a stack on our Queer Fiction table.
He cursed as they collapsed to the floor, quickly picking them up and stacking them haphazardly.
Mina gasped at the sight of the books stacked all wayward. Immediately, she began to fix them.
“Sorry, I’m late,” Henry said. “I tried to walk from memory and made a wrong turn.”
Henry’s eyes found mine and took in me sitting on the desk, my legs swinging. He tilted his head curiously, and I knew he was questioning what I’d do. This was the moment of truth. If I’d hand over the reins to The Last Page.
I hopped down from the desk, making room for him.
Henry let out a breath of relief, probably happy I wasn’t fighting him in front of the booksellers.
But I knew a secret that he didn’t: The booksellers hated change.
When Leo had moved History from the basement to the main floor, the booksellers requested a vote to change it back (which Leo ignored) and threatened to walk out (which they didn’t).
I could play the part and be nice to him in front of them, easily. Because I bet once he read the new schedule, pandemonium would break out.
“Today is Henry’s first day in the store,” I said. “He’s going to be here just for a bit, so everyone be nice to the new owner before you get the boot.” I cut Joey a look. “And no fake rats.”
“It was one time!”
“And I nearly fainted,” Mina mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I’m sorry, Mina,” Joey said dutifully. “I didn’t know you had rat-phobia.”
“How do you even take the subway with rat-phobia?” Ameerah pondered.
“There’s a czar now,” Mabel said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “The mayor insists that’ll take care of it!”
“I take the bus,” Mina provided. “No rats.”
The booksellers collectively said, “Ohhh.”
I cleared my throat, trying to get their attention. “Henry, I already started the morning meeting, but the floor is yours.”
Henry moved through the crowd of booksellers and stood next to me behind the desk.
“It’s great to meet y’all. I’m looking forward to getting to know you and working together. There are some things that’ll change around here, but that’s what always happens when a business comes under new management. I’ll be observing over the new few days to see what changes our store might need.”
I winced at his use of “our.” As if he was part of this community Leo had created. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I knew whatever he said wouldn’t land well with the booksellers.
“Is he speaking English?” Joey murmured to Stewart. “His country accent is worse than Jack’s Jersey one.”
“I’ll be sure to send out a memo when that happens, too.”
From the corner of my eye, Ren mouthed “memo” to Noah with a confused look, who just shrugged.
“Alright, for the schedule, Stewart, you’re in Fashion—”
“Huh?”
“Mabel, you’re in Finance and Self-Help today. Stewart, you’re in Horror. Ameerah—”
“Excuse me,” Joey said, shooting his hand up.
Henry’s eyes flickered up from his phone to me, unsure what to do. I shrugged and nodded at Joey.
“Yes?” Henry asked.
“Stewart can’t do Horror. Ella must’ve forgotten to tell you, but the covers freak him out too much.”
Henry’s brow furrowed as he turned to Stewart. “There’s a whole section of the store you just avoid?”
But again, Joey spoke up for him, placing his hand on Stewart’s chest. “Well, he has to walk through it to get to the bathroom, but he just closes his eyes.”
“Why doesn’t Stewart speak up for himself if he has an issue?” Henry offered gently.
“He likes it when I do it,” Joey said, confused. “Have you never had a boyfriend?”
“Joey, baby, we didn’t put a label on this—”
Joey waved his hand, stopping Stewart. “Well, the point is Mabel prefers Fashion and Stewart likes to be in Fiction.”
“Yeah, and I like to be in History.”
“I only do registers.”
“Please don’t put me in Travel. I can’t take another one of Rich’s stories about how Egypt was the time of his life.”
“You’re just jealous that you’ve never been to Egypt.”
“Oh my God, I’ve been twice, Rich!”
The booksellers began speaking over each other, complaining. Stewart was trying to tell Henry the sections he preferred to work in while Jack asked if he could start being on registers, even though he’s not allowed to. Henry looked like he was going to pass out.
“Ella, can’t you fix this?” Joey cried. They quieted and looked to me.
I shrugged and said, “Take it up with boss man over here. He’s in charge.”
They all started arguing, trying to talk to Henry at once. He shot me a panicked look, but I looked the other way. If he wanted to run the store, then he could deal with the booksellers.
“Let’s just try out the schedule for today,” he said over them. “I’ll be in Leo’s office.”
They were still trying to argue with him as he beelined toward his office, head down.
This might be easier than I thought.