Chapter 15
Via walked into Second Chapter that evening later than she intended thanks to Squeaks, who did not want her desperately needed
bath. She was currently in kitty time-out, hopefully learning her lesson. As she entered the shop, she was hit with a surprise—music.
Not just any music but . . . disco? Scratchy disco? What in the world . . . ?
Sir Meow padded behind her as she searched out Leo. Surely he wasn’t the source of the tunes. She couldn’t imagine him liking
disco. He seemed more like a smooth jazz or coffeehouse music guy. The type of music she played in her café.
The disco grew louder as she headed to the storage room and found another surprise—Leo sitting cross-legged on the rag rug
in the reading nook, going through a pile of old records. When Sir headbutted his elbow, he looked up. “Hey, Via.” His eyes
were more animated than she’d ever seen them. He turned down the volume on the player. “Did you know Earl had these?”
Via joined him on the floor, sitting on the opposite side of the record stack. “I’ve never seen those or the record player.
Where did you find them?”
“I was moving the last of the boxes in storage and found them in here.” He tapped on a sad-looking, dented cardboard box. “The record player was in another box next to it at the very back of the wall.”
“Are they all disco?” Via asked.
“As far as I can tell.” He started flipping through the records again. “Who knew Earl was into Donna Summer?”
Her toes started tapping inside her burnt-orange ballet flats to a song about bad girls. Catchy. “I wonder if he ever listened
to these, or if he just picked them up at an auction or antique store.”
“Good point.”
When Sir moved close to the player and reached out a paw to touch the revolving record, she swooped in and tucked him in her
lap. Surprisingly he stayed, considering the love of his life was sitting directly across from him.
Leo picked up another album, the cover yellowed and stained. “Interested in staying alive?”
“Always.”
He handed her the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. “We should play this next.”
Not that she didn’t appreciate this lighter side of Leonardo Brewster, but she was confused. “I thought you didn’t like music,”
she said as she lifted the needle from the record and carefully removed it from the player. She handed it to him.
“I like it. I just don’t listen to it much.” He slid the vinyl disc back inside the sleeve. “It’s not often you get a chance
to listen to oldies records.”
She put the record on the first song, which actually was “Stayin’ Alive.” Immediately the needle started skipping. “Ugh, this
doesn’t sound good.”
“Try the next track.”
She did, and it was a slow song, “How Deep Is Your Love.” It was playing perfectly now. Oh, she liked this one. Mellow, relaxing. She might have to add it to the café playlist.
They sorted through the album stack as the song played, and Via started paying attention to the lyrics. Oh boy, was this a
romantic song. She glanced at Leo. He was completely focused on the records, so much so she doubted he’d even noticed the
words. The last thing she needed was for him to catch her gazing at him while the singers sang, “We belong to you and me.”
He had a different type of shirt on today, one with navy blue three-quarter sleeves and a cartoon picture of The Who on a
white background. “That’s an interesting shirt,” she said, moving her thoughts away from romance.
“Another one of Earl’s. He’s got loads of clothes from every era, it seems.”
“Him being a Who fan makes more sense than the disco stuff.” Her father exclusively listened to classic rock and she was aware
of the bands in the genre.
“Did he ever listen to music?”
“Not around me.”
Finally, the song ended and switched to another fast-paced disco tune that immediately skipped again. She lifted the needle.
“This record’s defective.”
“Appears that way.” He picked up the last album in the stack and showed it to her, grinning. “Wanna listen to Disco Delight?”
“I’m good.” She handed him the soundtrack album, grateful they were done with the pile. She didn’t want to risk another slow,
romantic song. They started putting the albums back in the box. Like everything else about Second Chapter, it was shabby but
still useful. “Needle Drop would probably buy all these from you,” she said. “Including the player.”
He stood. “I thought about that, but I think there’s a better use for it.” He held out his hand to help her up. Sir moved out of her lap.
Like the rest of him, his hand was perfect too. Not too large but big enough to totally cover her own. Strong, warm . . .
amazing. Too soon she got to her feet and he let go.
“I’m going to keep the player on the counter up front, for aesthetic value,” he said.
He was actually caring about what the shop looked like. Was he coming around to seeing what she saw in Second Chapter?
“When I told the Realtor we probably wouldn’t have everything sorted by the time she listed the property, she said that might
not be a bad thing.” He picked up the box.
“Realtor?” Her smile disappeared.
“She said the shop didn’t have to be completely empty in order to sell, regardless of the buyer’s intent. It just needs to
look nice.” He walked into the storage room.
She followed. “You contacted a Realtor already?”
“Time to get the ball rolling on this sale.” He set the box next to another one labeled Egyptian Nonfiction.
“Leo . . .” Her stomach dipped. “Don’t you think it’s a little soon?”
His expression was unreadable again. “Not at all.”
“I thought you were going to list it yourself.”
“I thought so too, but it’s more practical for a local agent to do it. Bennett highly recommended Susan, and she seems to
know her stuff.”
Before she could say anything else, he walked out of the storage room.
His eagerness to list the shop so soon was confusing. Didn’t he say he wanted to stay a whole month? There were still a couple
weeks left. Was he changing his mind about everything?
She found him up front with Sir Meow, who was crouched on the counter near the turntable. “Does Needle Drop do refurbishing? The player needs some TLC.”
“I don’t know.” She’d only been in the store a couple of times out of curiosity. “I can ask.”
“I’ll go over there in the morning.” He flashed her a full-throttle grin. “Ready to divide and conquer?”
“Sure . . .” She was about to ask him for an explanation about why he was pushing forward with a Realtor already, but she
held back. She’d never sold a business before—maybe that was protocol. He was the expert . . . and the owner. She had to remember
that.
Against his will, or most of it anyway, Leo was getting used to Pecan Corner. Via played a big part of that, naturally. The
two days they spent working in the shop were surprisingly relaxed, with the exception of the confusion he sensed from her
when he told her about listing Second Chapter.
With her help, he was confident he’d finish the stipulations. This week he’d found three more books on the list, bringing
the total up to five—halfway there. Once the month was up, the inheritance would be his, and he wanted everything teed up.
He wanted to tell her all that but decided against it. The terms of the will didn’t concern her, and he didn’t want to complicate
their friendship . . . something he was also getting used to.
Apple picking on Wednesday had been fun, and the fresh-pressed cider delicious, but he decided he liked the pumpkin patch better.
Thursday it had rained—a cool and calm, steady cadence outside the shop window as he took pictures of an entire bookshelf full of different books that weren’t shelved by genre, ISBN—he now knew what that meant—or even last name, while she worked on decorating the bathroom.
When she showed it to him, now as bright, shiny, and autumn themed as she was, he was impressed. She’d even changed the dingy
light bulb.
“What do you think?”
He turned to see her expectant expression. What he wanted to do was put his arm around her waist, draw her close, and thank
her in the most personal way possible. Instead he simply said, “Looks great. Thanks.”
Her response—a partial smile—was equally as simple. This was what their relationship had become. Genial. Slightly aloof, considering
all the time they were together. They made a good work partnership too.
Late Friday afternoon Leo embarked on a long walk around Pecan Corner. He probably should have jogged it, but after his run
on Monday he was still dealing with intermittent shin splints from too much jogging and not enough stretching. What he really
yearned to do was to drive the Turismo, but Charlie still had it at Dipstick Depot. The guy knew what he was talking about
when it came to cars, and he’d checked with the head of the service department at the Maserati dealership in Columbus about
the warranty. Turned out the guy knew Charlie from when they were in vo ed together and vouched for his work.
Zander at Needle Drop was excited to work on the record player after finding out it was Earl’s. “Didn’t know he had this beaut
in there,” he said, looking at the old player with reverence. “The man knew his antiques.” He promised to get it back to Leo
as soon as he could.
But as comfortable as things had become with Via and as friendly as the town was, he still couldn’t imagine living here.
Too slow paced, for one thing. He was missing the pressure of working with clients and trying to increase their portfolios.
He also missed . . . his house? Palm trees?
His pool? Sure, all that stuff was important too.
Or was it?
He shook off the nonsensical thought. Of course it was important. He’d spent almost a decade to get where he was and own what
he did. It was his life.
By the time he returned to the apartment, it was close to dark. The lights were on in Pawsitive Vibes and he remembered that
tonight was Meow and Mingle. He was about to open the door to the apartment stairwell when he glanced at the front door window