Chapter 10
Gray stared at the computer screen. It didn’t add up.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The numbers added up just fine. He’d been here almost two weeks, and that was long enough
to see a clear picture of the store’s current finances. What wasn’t making sense was that Viola Thatcher was operating in
the red, and Shelby didn’t seem to have a clue.
Viola hadn’t paid rent on the building in two months, and he’d found some bills locked away in a drawer. Those would have
to be paid for the store to remain in business, but there wasn’t enough money in the account to cover those costs.
Shelby had received a pay increase a few months ago—but starting that same month, Viola had taken a pay decrease in the same
amount. Shelby never would’ve willingly taken money from her grandmother. Which indicated she didn’t know the true state of
the store’s financial affairs.
Which would make him the bearer of some very bad news.
He could clearly see Miss Viola had overspent in areas. She gave away books too often—charitable donations. She left inventory
on the shelves too long. The store didn’t have a website—an unpardonable sin in today’s business climate. Their social media
accounts were largely ignored.
Shelby could turn things around, but it wouldn’t be easy.
And she wouldn’t have much time since she was behind on rent.
She’d also have to hire Gram’s replacement, and that wouldn’t be cheap.
He glanced at the cell showing Gram’s salary and scowled.
No way would Shelby find someone for that paltry sum.
The store did a steady business. People came and went all the time—even shut off in the office he could hear the bell’s continual
tinkling throughout the day. But he’d been upstairs enough to know the place was somewhat of a community hub. People often
dropped by just to shoot the breeze. Viola had loved that. He suspected that had been more important to her than any profit
she might make. But a business wouldn’t survive with that mentality.
And he wanted Shelby’s business to thrive. She shouldn’t have to worry about stretching dimes and staying afloat.
He wished he had better news for her. He glanced at the clock. It was closing time, but he’d seen on the sidewalk board that
a romance book club met tonight. That was another thing. They gave their members 25 percent off book club selections. And
with seven book clubs running out of the store, that really cut into their profits. Shelby would have to change some things
if she wanted to keep the doors open.
He glanced around the office at the nine boxes of books that had arrived from UPS today. He’d stick around, scan the books
into the system, and adhere UPC labels. After her book club he’d break the news to Shelby.
“Great insight, Katherine,” Lucy, the discussion leader, said. “I agree Harper could’ve been an unlikable heroine, given her
jaded beliefs on love and marriage. She could even be abrasive sometimes.”
Shelby shifted on the wooden seat. They were out back in the courtyard, discussing My One and Only by Kristan Higgins, their October book club selection and one of her favorite romances—even if it did remind her of Gray.
“Her sense of humor made her character likable for me,” Elizabeth said.
“That definitely helped,” Emma said. “But for me it was finding out about her mother. Those flashbacks were so heartbreaking.
I wanted to give young Harper a big hug.”
“And the way those wounds impacted her relationship with Nick. Oh .” Margie pressed a hand to her ample bosom. “It just made so much sense. I could see their childhood hurts wreaking havoc
on their marriage, and it just about killed me. I read it in one day and went through half a box of tissues.”
“Did anyone else just want to grab Dennis by his little rattail braid and throw him off the wharf?”
“A little harsh there, Sherry, but yes. In the end he was just a big oaf standing in the way of true love.”
“Can we just take a minute to swoon over Nick Lowery?” Lucy said.
The group seemed to draw in a deep breath and sigh as a whole.
Shelby couldn’t blame them. The first time she’d read the story she’d only dreamed of finding a man like Nick. Ironically,
that had been when Gray entered her life. After he left, it had taken her three full years to pick up another romance novel.
Even now she rarely read one. She no longer craved the kind of over-the-moon, helplessly-in-love feeling those books depicted.
She’d experienced the painful side of being madly in love, and it wasn’t pretty. Now she mostly stuck to women’s fiction,
suspense, and the occasional memoir.
The group moved on to the last question and had plenty to say about the epilogue. She loved these discussions—the way everyone
offered their opinions and brought insight and passion to the reading experience.
It always made her realize afresh that fiction was about so much more than entertainment. It offered readers a unique way to learn about themselves and others. The protagonist’s journey illuminated a reader’s own experiences, her own struggles.
And when she slipped into the skin of someone different from herself, she experienced compassion and understanding that translated
to people around her. She became a more empathetic human being.
It made Shelby proud of what she did. She wasn’t just a bookseller. She dealt in hope and healing. The warm glow of that reminder
carried her through the club’s wrap-up and good-byes. While the others headed out she stayed out back, tidying up after them,
cognizant of her dreamy smile.
All was quiet inside as she stowed the chairs and turned off the yard lights. She stepped into the hall, frowning at the light
burning behind the frosted glass of the office door.
A shadow moved behind the glass and the door swept open. Gray stepped out and came to a sudden halt within inches of her.
Shelby stepped back as her heart gave a heavy thump. She pressed a hand to her chest, startled to find him here so late. He
always left at closing.
“Book club over?”
“Working late?” They spoke at the same time.
And answered at the same time. Their gazes locked. The air seemed to weave a spell around them.
She dragged her gaze away and swept past him. Her legs trembled as they carried her to the front where the space was brighter,
less confining. Why did she let him fluster her so? It really ticked her off. This was her store, her domain. He was a guest
here—uninvited at that, at least by her. She’d gotten over him years ago and he had no hold on her anymore.
He has no hold over me anymore.
“Who are you trying to convince, Sweet Girl?”
“Shelby? You have a minute?”
She squeezed her eyes closed as she approached the front door. It was past eight and she really just wanted to go home and
soak in the tub with her Colleen Coble novel. “Can it wait till tomorrow?”
Chaucer, the store’s unlikely mascot, sauntered past, gray tail high and flickering like a flag.
Gray stuffed his hands in his front pants pockets. “It can, but I’m not sure it should.”
That sounded ominous. And the somber expression on his face didn’t help matters. Dread inched its way up her spine. “Something
wrong?”
“Maybe we can sit on the porch and talk a minute.”
This didn’t sound good. She didn’t need bad news. Gram’s passing—and let’s face it, Gray’s presence—had left her feeling vulnerable.
But she’d never been one to bury her head in the sand, and she wasn’t about to start now. “Let me shut off the lights and
close up.”
She went through the motions, bracing herself for whatever he was about to say. He’d better not be backing out of their deal.
He’d signed those papers! He had to abide by the terms.
She locked up the store and found Gray leaning against the porch railing just outside the glowing cone of light.
She crossed her arms. “You can’t get out of our deal, if that’s what you’re trying to do. The paperwork is ironclad. Mr. Greenwood
made certain of it.”
Something shifted in his face. “That’s not what this is about.”
Her lungs emptied. She could handle just about anything else. “What then? It’s been a long day and I want to get home.”
“Sorry to keep you. But I felt you should know sooner than later.” He met her gaze. “I finished up the audit. Did you and
your grandma discuss the store’s finances?”
“A little. Some. Not really. She liked to handle that part, and as you know, that’s not really my strong suit. Why? What’s
wrong?”
His gaze remained steady on hers, but she couldn’t read his expression in the dimness. “The store’s struggling financially. She never said anything?”
“Struggling?” That couldn’t be true. “What are you talking about? We do solid business here. Do you know how many books we
sell a week?”
“I know exactly how many. But there’s a lot of overhead: rent, staff, utilities. It adds up.”
A new thought occurred and Shelby shook her head. “The finances must be okay. Gram just gave me a raise a few months ago.
She wouldn’t have done that if we were struggling. You’ve done something wrong. You need to check your numbers again.”
“I already did. There’s no mistake. And your raise...” He broke eye contact. Palmed the back of his neck.
“What?”
He seemed to take forever to answer. “Your grandma took it out of her own salary.”
That was ridiculous. “No, she didn’t. I didn’t even ask for the raise. It was her idea.”
“I’m sorry, Shelby, but the same month you received an increase, she took a pay cut of the same amount.”
Shelby shook her head. “She said it was past time for me to receive a salary increase because I’d assumed more responsibilities,
plus inflation...”
But a conversation they’d had while sipping tea in Gram’s kitchen came back to her. Shelby had mentioned the expensive repairs
on her broken-down Mazda. She was fretting over it because the repairs had taken her entire nest egg.
How had she not put that together before—her personal financial woes and Gram’s offer of a raise? If the store was in bad
shape financially, that was exactly the kind of selfless thing Gram would’ve done.
Shelby’s eyes burned. She pressed her fingertips to her temples, hoping to stem the tears. Her breaths came quick and hard. This couldn’t be happening. The store was all she had. All she had left of Gram. She forced herself to ask the question. “How bad is it?”
He straightened from the railing, his expression softening. “Hey, listen. Maybe we should follow up on this in the morning.
It’s getting late and—”
“Like I could sleep after this! Tell me. I need to know what I’m dealing with here.”
He sighed. “You’re two months behind on rent and some other bills. There’s very little money in the store account.”
Behind on the rent? Very little money? “How much?”
“Two hundred twelve dollars and change.”
Shelby gaped. “That can’t be right.”
“Unfortunately, it is.”
“Could there be another account?”
“I’ve seen no evidence of that.”
She cupped her forehead. Rent alone was steep. There wasn’t enough to pay October’s rent, much less the two months she was
in arrears. And those other bills. Shelby wished she could take it out of her personal account, but she was still trying to
rebuild from the Mazda repairs. In general, she barely got by, and she’d been okay with that. She’d chosen this job because
of her passion for books, not because she ever expected to get rich.
But she did have to get by. And the store had to turn a profit—or at least break even—or she wouldn’t have a job at all. Nor
would all her booksellers. If she couldn’t make rent, they were dead in the water. The building was owned by some out-of-state
entity, so it wasn’t as if she could beg a neighborly favor. “How long do I have?”
“Your lease says three months. They’ve sent a couple delinquent notices. I can call and explain the circumstances. The store
has leased this space for years, so they might be willing to work with us through a difficult time.”
“But if things are as bad as you say, how will I ever get out of the hole?” Her last words quivered with emotion. She bit down hard on her lip.
He took a step closer, lifted his hand, then dropped it as if realizing she wouldn’t welcome his touch. “Listen, there’s a
lot you can do to turn things around. I have some ideas and I’m sure you will too. This isn’t a hopeless situation.”
“Really? Because it feels pretty hopeless to me, Gray. The store isn’t earning enough to pay basic bills, and pretty soon
we could lose the building . I could lose everything Gram worked for all these years.” She was taking her anxiety out on him, but she couldn’t even care.
He touched her arm. “Hey. This isn’t your fault. And we’re not gonna let that happen.”
She flinched away. “There is no ‘we’ here. You’ll be leaving now that you’ve done your part, and it’ll be my problem. It’s
my business—my problem. So just leave, Gray. It’s what you do best.” She hitched her purse on her shoulder and fled down the
steps before the tears burning her eyes trickled down her face.