The Indie – Summer
THE INDIE
SUMMER
Adrian pulled in front of Sinclair Street in a brand-new black Ferrari, stepping out in a dark gray suit and matching tie.
He waved to the group of people waiting outside his store, and then he looked right at me through the window and smiled.
I shut the blinds.
“What’s with the line over at Sinclair Street today?” I asked Jenny. “Another preview day for his executives?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Jenny picked up her binoculars. “There’s a sign up by the doors, but I can only make out two ‘B’ letters so far.”
“Hmmm.” I flipped through my mail, my stomach sinking at the ugly “final notice,” “urgent,” and “overdue” stamps plastered across the envelopes.
Opening a drawer, I tossed them inside.
I’ll deal with those later…
“He’s throwing an early preview party for his store, with a pop-up Romance Book Bash…” Jenny said. “It says free paperbacks, ice cream, and giveaways all day. And it says the official grand opening is next week.”
WHAT? “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I wish I was…” She handed me the binoculars, and I took a look for myself.
Under a massive trellis of white and red roses, the words ROMANCE BOOK BASH flashed across two beautiful billboards. Pink and purple balloons floated from the entry doors, and men in white tuxedos were handing out roses to every guest who entered the store.
“I can’t compete with free paperbacks, Jenny.” I could barely hear my own voice. “How the hell am I supposed to stay open when he can afford to give away the one thing I’m trying to sell?”
“Please don’t let this asshole get to you.” She placed her hands on my shoulders. “Promise me.”
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
“Then do what you do best and strategize,” she said. “ came along and tried to do bookstores for a while, but look what happened?”
“ has billions of dollars, Jenny.”
“What happened to their bookstores, Summer?” She snapped her fingers. “Focus.”
“They eventually had to shut them all down.”
“And why?”
“Because they shockingly sucked at running stores…”
She stared at me.
“Fine. The customers hated them,” I said. “They were soulless. There was nothing warm or inviting about them, nothing that made an actual book lover want to stay.”
“Exactly,” she said. “They were three blocks away from us, and readers came here instead of there for their romance fix. How many business owners can say they beat at anything?”
“What’s your point, Jenny?”
“Stay the course,” she said. “Do what you do best, focus on your own book business, and fuck him. Well, not literally—unless you want to because he’s definitely hot as hell with big dick energy, but I think giving him your pussy right now would complicate things, so—”
“Oh my god, what?”
“Sorry.” She blushed. “But uh, yeah. Just focus on yourself and the long game. Oh, and take this.”
She pulled a yellow slip from her pocket and held it out to me.
“You should go,” she said.
“What is this?”
“A one-hour deep tissue massage I won last month.” She beamed. “I think you need it way more than me, and it expires next week, so you should probably try to see if they can get you in ASAP.”
“Thank you, Jenny,” I said. “Would you mind holding things down for an hour or so? Or just until Harriet and Michael get in?”
“They’re probably going to be late.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t you see them in line over there?” she asked. “They’re the ones dressed in the black masks and sweat suits.”
What the… I picked up the binoculars again, scanning the line until I saw them.
Sure enough, there they were, apparently convinced black masks made them invisible to their own boss.
“I’m going to try to schedule this massage for today,” I said. “Like, for this afternoon.”
“Good idea.” She gently took the binoculars away from me. “I think you’ve seen enough for one morning.”