Chapter 33 #2
He nodded eagerly. “Ella said storytime will start soon, but she wanted to show us the store.”
I smiled down at him. “You’ll have loads of fun.”
I looked up to meet Ella’s gaze, expecting warmth and ease. Instead, she was biting her thumbnail anxiously. I frowned and tilted my head, as if to ask if she was okay, but she just shook her head.
Her mom must’ve caught the interaction. “Hijos, let’s give them time to work before the event, sí? Vámonos. There’s good food over there.”
As they passed us by, her mom stopped and whispered to me, “You all are doing great. My Carmelita can just get nervous.”
I nodded once and said softly, “Thank you.”
Once they were gone, I guided Ella downstairs into the basement and pulled her into the Espionage corner, thankful Joey and Stewart heeded my warning. I ran my hands up and down her arms, frowning.
“Ella, what’s going on?”
“Everything’s fucked,” she burst out. There were deep lines of worry on her forehead, as she spoke at a mile a minute. “We’re nearly out of the exclusive T-shirts but have barely sold the hats. And we can’t afford to not sell the hats—”
“Honey, breathe,” I commanded, pulling her into my chest. Her arms went around my waist as I cradled her head close to my chest, the other wrapped around her shoulders.
“We’re almost out of Sally Rooney books.”
“Then people will buy a different book. Something by Ottessa Moshfegh or Dolly Alderton.”
“There are sad literary girls who will come in and try to get Normal People and will be severely disappointed,” she mumbled against my chest. “It’s their blood on your hands.”
My mouth quirked into a smile as I pulled back. “Ella, listen to me when I say this, everything is going to be okay. You don’t need to worry about things selling out—that’s a good thing. And don’t worry about the budget.”
The truth was, my credit card was paying for most of it. This was my bookstore, my grandfather’s, so it was my debt. But I would never tell her.
“Do you really believe that?” Ella’s green eyes were wide, her voice urgent.
My hands moved from her arms to her hands, intertwining our fingers. I didn’t care that we had a no-touching rule at The Last Page or if the booksellers saw us, using it as fodder for gossip. She must’ve not cared either because she squeezed my hands tight.
“I do, Ella. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I hadn’t realized how small this space was.
No wonder Joey and Stewart spent months making out in here.
It was really only fit for one person. Ella and I were standing chest to chest at this point.
My gaze focused on her mouth, wanting a taste.
I couldn’t believe I’d gone so long without ever kissing her and even now, when we left the small radius of the store, I had free rein.
Her eyes fell from my gaze to my lips, and she licked her own subconsciously, eliciting a groan from me. My hand acted on its own volition, tangling itself in her hair.
“Henry,” she said, swallowing, “I’ve been wanting to tell you that—”
We were cut off by the sound of a loud guitar screeching through the basement.
Immediately, our hands covered our ears as loud, heavy metal music began.
We shared a glance and ran from the alcove in Espionage to the main area of the basement.
Nearly every customer we passed was fleeing upstairs or covering their ears.
On the mini stage we built for the acoustic and jazz band was a full rock band, crammed together. The lead guitarist was shredding on the guitar as the drummer was beating wildly.
“What the hell?” Ella shouted. “Who was in charge of the music down here?”
“Mabel,” I yelled back.
Mabel was standing behind the basement info desk, bobbing her head up and down to the music. Her hair was moving wildly as she rocked out to the music, her eyes closed.
“Mabel,” I shouted over the music. “What is this?”
“Music!” she supplied helpfully.
“You were supposed to book new age jazz,” Ella shouted. “Who are these people?”
Mabel frowned. “You said new age. This is new age!”
“MABEL,” Ella shouted over the music. “WHY ON EARTH WOULD I WANT NEW AGE ROCK AT OUR BOOK FAIR?”
“I didn’t understand the vision,” Mabel said, shrugging.
“SHUT IT DOWN,” Ella shouted over the music. Mabel’s shoulders sagged in disappointment as she stalked over to talk to the band. Their music scratched, cutting short. Mabel spoke to the men in the band and they nodded in understanding. They shuffled around for a moment, packing up their stuff.
“Mabel,” Ella said, her voice tight. “Where are they going?”
“Ella, do you want rock or not?” Mabel said, exhausted. “That’s all they play.”
“So we built a stage for music and now have no music?” Ella turned to me, panicked. Before I could come up with a game plan, Jack approached the band. They talked for a while and Jack slipped them some money. In exchange, they gave him their guitar.
Without a word, he sat at the stool on the stage and started to play jazz music.
“Wow,” Ella said. “He’s actually kind of good.”
“I hate to say it, but I think this buys him immunity.”
Ella pointed a finger at Mabel. “You’re lucky Jack was here.” Ella turned to meet my gaze. “First time I ever said that,” she muttered.
“I’m sorry I wanted to bring something fun to the fair. I thought we’d try out the rock and if you didn’t like it, I told them to prepare some boring music as a backup. I’ll file away for next year that we don’t like to experiment.” Mabel huffed and began to organize books for shelving.
When Ella turned around, there was only more worry in her eyes. “This is a disaster.”
“Not at all,” I promised. “Today was never going to be perfect. No day at The Last Page ever has been.”
She closed her eyes and shakily said, “I just want us to make it, Henry.”
Ella spends her days being a toy with the string pulled tight. Always ready to serve and help everyone else, never willing to unravel. I don’t know what I did to earn this privilege, but I wouldn’t squander it.
I had to stick to my one job: keep the stress away from Ella.
“C’mon,” I said quietly. “The Bronte Sisters trivia starts in the event room in five and I know you don’t want to miss it.”