The Indie – Summer
THE INDIE
SUMMER
“You’re late again, Summer.” Jenny clucked her teeth the moment I walked into Slow Burn on Saturday morning. “We can’t properly plan our battles when our captain isn’t taking them seriously.”
“I am taking them seriously.” I winced as I plopped down on the couch. “Sorry. I’m ready.”
Harriet turned on a projector.
Then Michael and Kelly stood up and moved in front of the screen.
“So, word has it that Mr. Sinclair is pushing up the grand opening of his store,” Kelly said. “That means we don’t have as much ti$me to fight him off as we’d like.”
“How much earlier?” I sat up.
“My source didn’t say, but I’ll find out by the end of next week.”
I feigned a smile, but my heart was racing in a panic.
“The events we’ve done this past week have been good,” Michael said, “but they’re not good enough. We need more pizzazz.”
“The local news is coming to do a spotlight on us this week,” I said. “That oughtta help.”
“The local news is for boomers and people who can’t get off their couch,” Jenny quipped. “Let us soldiers discuss this, and then we’ll let you in when we’re ready.”
“But I thought you said you needed me to—”
“Nope.” She motioned for me to zip my lips. “Three new ideas at a time, everyone. Let’s go.”
I moved off the couch and walked over to the coffeemaker.
Through the blinds, I spotted a gray McLaren parked right out front.
The same one that was parked there yesterday morning and the day before.
Confused, I carried my cup outside and tapped on the window.
“Hey,” I said, tapping on the window. “This space is reserved for our store. I’d hate to have your car towed.”
The window slowly rolled down, revealing Adrian in another perfect suit.
“Actually,” he said, “I’m pretty sure you’d love to do that.”
“No, not at all…” I was calling the company the moment I returned inside. “You can sit here for as long as you like today. Girl Scout’s honor.”
“You were never in the Girl Scouts, Miss Connors,” he said. “You spent your childhood in crafting and book clubs.”
“My sister was in it.”
“She got kicked out for stabbing a snake.”
“So, you’re stalking my personal history now?”
“Says the person who called my high school and asked about all the clubs I was in last week?” he asked. “The same person who had her employees follow my driver to my condo.”
They did that on their own… “I’m just doing some friendly research on the competition.”
“And I’m doing the same.”
Silence.
“What exactly are you trying to find out from sitting out here?” I asked.
“Just how long it’ll take your customers to look across the street and decide they’d rather shop with me.”
“Thank you for your honesty.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “You should get in my car. We still need to talk.”
“About what, Mr. Sinclair?”
“Us.”
“What?”
“Things,” he said. “I said, things.”
No, you didn’t…
“I’m going to go back inside now.” I clutched my coffee. “As a heads up, you probably shouldn’t park there anymore.”
“The romantic suspense and spaghetti night this weekend was creative.” He changed the subject. “I always thought that was a niche genre.”
“How is that possible?” I stepped closer. “Do you even read romance books?”
“I’ve read a few.”
“Enough to give me your top ten choices in twenty different subgenres?”
“That would be more than a few, Summer. I mean, Miss Connors.”
“Do you read books at all?”
“I’m very well-versed in the business ones,” he said. “Hence, all of my success.”
“Then I’m sure you’re an expert on being condescending as fuck, too.”
“My guilty pleasure is a thriller novel.” He laughed, and I hated that my body reacted to it. “I read two new ones every week.”
“Well, not that you’ll ever do it, but you should try romantic suspense sometime. You’d be surprised how many twists and turns the authors put you through.”
“Any books you recommend?”
“Several.”
“I’m listening.” He picked up his phone, and I rattled off my top eight.
When I finished, he lowered his phone and looked at me.
Neither of us said anything.
I was honestly tempted to open his door and settle into the front seat, to tell him to drive off and do whatever the hell he wanted to me, but—
“Keep the enemy talking…” Jenny suddenly walked behind me, whispering. “The towing company will be here in five minutes. Five minutes…”
“So, um—” I cleared my throat. “About talking.”
“I heard what your sister said.” He smirked, sliding a pair of shades over his eyes. “She can’t whisper for shit. Until next time, Miss Connors.”
He rolled up his window and drove right across the street…