Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
STELLA
I wake early the next morning and add the second coat of paint to the bookshelves. When it’s done, I step back and take it in. I do a few hops in place. I love it, more than anything else about my new bookstore and loft, because Drew built it. Specifically for me.
I take a quick shower in my new bathroom.
As I wipe the steam away from the mirror, I reveal my reflection.
I like what I see. This girl is happy. It isn’t just obvious in the upward curl of her lips, but also the brightness in her eyes.
I even like the haircut, though I miss the length.
It looks good. It’s a clear transformation from Stella the librarian to Stella the bookseller.
When Drew arrives, he raises his eyebrows at my clothing choice. I’m wearing a purple sundress, make-up, and I added hair serum so my waves wouldn’t flatten.
“I thought we were cleaning today?”
“How are you at holding a camera?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Fair? Why?”
“Follow me.”
I offer him a muffin and we head downstairs.
The backroom is a colossal mess, but all I feel is exhilaration at the prospect of turning this place into something beautiful. My excitement is tangible. Before I do anything, I need to document the transformation.
“I need a social media presence to get word out about my store. What better way to begin than to show the transformation from this,” I wave my hand around at the stack of books, “to the beauty it will become? I brought a tripod, but I’ve never used it before, and I’d rather not waste the time figuring it out. ”
“I can be your tripod.”
I remove a small mic from one pocket and my phone from the other. Once they're connected and the video app is open, I hand over my phone to Drew.
“Let’s start at the front desk.”
I stand next to the front door and run my hand over the wood countertop. The desk doesn’t need much more than a good clean. I get caught up looking around at the mess and imagining exactly what it will look like in seven weeks minus one day.
“Stella, are you ready?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
I clear my throat and look into the camera lens.
My heart flutters. Putting content of myself online isn’t comfortable.
I only post pictures about my travels, not videos about my personal life.
But if I want to succeed, this is one of the sacrifices I need to make.
One deep calming breath, then no more procrastinating.
“Hi! I’m Stella. Welcome to Blissful Books and Gifts in Blissful, Arizona. Over the next two months, follow me as I transform this second-hand bookstore to the place you’ll want to buy your next new book.”
That was cheesy. I should’ve written down what I want to say. Nervous energy comes out in a burst of laughter. I cover my face, feeling like a fraud. Something I need to get over if I want to make this business a success.
When I finally get a hold of myself, Drew is still filming, a bemused smile on his face.
I run my hand in front of my throat. “Cut!”
He lowers the camera, then takes a step forward.
I hold up a hand for him to stop. “Wait! I need some tape. I’ll run upstairs. Give me a second.”
“There might be some in the desk.”
I run around to the back of the desk and open drawers. They are full of pens, random paper, business cards, even crayons. Mr. Long said he wasn’t taking anything with him, and he didn’t. There! Masking tape. It will do until I find my floor tape and can replace it.
“Why do you want tape?” Drew asks.
“To mark the locations that I need to film from in the future.” I place a big X of tape on the floor where he stands. “I plan to record the whole process of renovating and want to get before-and-after shots from the same angles.”
Once I finish taping my spot by the desk, I have him take videos of me doing a single clap at different areas around the store. I leave an X of tape behind at each location.
Drew finally gives into his curiosity and asks, “Why all the clapping?”
“When these sections of the store are cleaned out, I’ll come back and clap again. Then, I’ll splice the videos together. Before the clap is messy; after the clap is pristine. It’s a magical transformation.”
We also take tons of video around the store that I can use for voiceovers as I explain what I’m doing. I hope enough, but I’ve never done anything like this before so only time will tell.
At the end of it, Drew hands me back my phone. Our hands touch, and he doesn’t let go immediately. I glance up at him. He’s looking at me in a way that has my stomach fluttering. Like he could maybe think of me as more than a friend.
Caleb flashes across my mind. I look away, and his fingers drop from the phone.
“Ready to work?” I ask, unable to meet his eyes.
“Ready when you are.”
“I’ll go grab the scanner and change.” I flee up the stairs.
Once changed into work clothes, I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror.
“You will not jeopardize the most important relationship you have by falling in love,” I whisper to my reflection.
For hours, we sort through piles and boxes in the back room.
Books worth money are put in the back office.
Books to giveaway go on the front desk by the door.
Sadly, the biggest pile is made of books going out to the dumpster.
It breaks my book-lover's heart, but honestly, there’s nothing I can do with them.
I load them into garbage bags and place them by the back door.
As I take trips to the front to add books to the giveaway pile, people visiting for Apple Jamboree peer through the windows. To my shopping list I add a roll of butcher paper. Those windows need to be covered up. I can’t work in a fish bowl.
By two o’clock, the time Drew needs to leave for a handyman job, the backroom is empty of books. We’re both dusty and sweaty. The space needs a good clean, but we’ve accomplished so much. I get to tick another item off my to-do list. It’s a great feeling.
I glance at Drew to share how thrilling this is, but all he looks is exhausted. His shoulders sag. His feet drag as he walks to the stairs to grab his water bottle.
My heart sinks. I did exactly what I promised Mom I wouldn’t do.
I put my project above a person. Yesterday, he worked a physical job all day, then came here and I put him to work painting until almost midnight.
Today, we worked without a lunch break, and he did most of the heavy lifting.
He has another job to go to once he leaves here. I’m a horrible person.
“Drew, I’ll keep track of your hours and be sure to cut you a check as soon as I get set up with a payroll company.” Which I didn’t plan to do for a while since I don’t have any employees.
He wipes the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead. It leaves a track of dirt behind.
“You are not paying me.”
“I have to. You’re doing too much. I’d offer you books as wages since you love the barter system so much, but you don’t like to read.”
He steps closer until we’re toe to toe and looks at me with fire blazing in his eyes. “Stella, you are not paying me. I’m your friend and your neighbor. This is what we do in Blissful. We help each other without expecting anything in return.”
I stand taller. “I’ve already accepted the work you did upstairs as the price you’re willing to pay to be my neighbor. But you helping in the bookstore exceeds the friendship service allotment I’m willing to accept.”
He laughs in my face, though not unkindly. “Stella, I will not accept any money from you.”
I stomp my foot and fist my hands. Why does he have to be so obstinate? I’m taking advantage of him and he shouldn’t be okay with that.
“What about when you build my bathroom?” I say. “And replace the stairs up to the book nook? We already agreed on the price.”
“We did. You can pay me for my work on those two projects, but not for anything else. I give you my time freely.”
“Drew,” I whine. “Why are you so nice?”
He grins. “Someday I’ll need something from you, and I won’t complain about accepting it.”
This is not a fight I will win. For that, I am even more indebted to him. And even more annoyed. Now that I’m aware of how thoughtful he is and how thoughtless I’ve been, I won’t be so going forward. I’ll take care of him, too.
“Thank you, Drew.”
“You’re welcome.”
We stand close together for another few, drawn-out seconds. He really does have the most beautiful green eyes. My heart’s beating picks up its pace as I contemplate wiping away the streaks of dirt from his forehead. That’s friendly, right? Even if the way I feel as I do it isn’t?
Drew abruptly steps back and turns to survey the backroom.
Right. This isn’t a romantic interlude in some book. It’s reality. Wiping dirt off of his skin is not friendly. It’s invading his personal space.
I look around like he does and ignore the lingering pull I feel toward him.
Without all the books, the backroom is cavernous. Part of it will be taken up with the public bathroom, but there is still plenty of space for storage and a receiving room to unpack books as they arrive.
“Thanks for your help today,” I say. “But also thanks for inviting me to this town. It’s because of you I’m standing in my very own store. I owe you for my new life.”
He gives me his wide grin. “I’m glad to have you here.” Another long, drawn out moment before he steps towards the exit. “I better get going. See you tomorrow.”
Only after he’s gone do I realize just how hungry I am.
After a quick shower to wash away all the grime, I heat up leftover shepherd’s pie, then go back downstairs to the front desk.
The bar height swivel chair Mr. Long left behind is comfortable.
As I eat, I pull everything out of the desk drawers.
Most of it ends up in the garbage, but I find a few fancy pens I decide to keep.
Once done, the work of the last few months catches up with me. This feels like the first time since moving out of my apartment that I’ve had a few minutes to just sit. I’m not sure I have the will to stand up yet.
It’s bright outside and dark inside, so no one can see me, but I can people watch. The streets are full of visitors for Apple Jamboree. Next year they’ll be coming into my store. I can’t wait.
A familiar face peers through the glass door. Julia.
I make a decision without any forethought. I hurry around the counter to the door, but she’s already gone. I unlock the deadbolt and take a few steps to the sidewalk.
There she is, with her head hung low. She wears the same oversized hoodie as the last time I saw her, with a pair of ragged jeans and holey tennis shoes.
“Julia!” I call out.
She stops and turns.
I jog to her. “Hi. Hey. I don’t know if you remember me. We met in the bookstore last month. I gave you a granola bar?”
She’s leery, but gives a slight nod.
“My name is Stella. Mr. Long spoke highly of you. Everyone does. I bought the bookstore and need help getting it ready to reopen. Are you interested in a job?”
She gives me the side-eye. “Like a real job? You’ll pay me?”
“Yeah. You’d have to fill out paperwork for taxes, but I can get you a check every two weeks for your hours worked.”
Her leeriness turns to interest. “How many hours a week?”
“As many as you want at this point. Once the store opens, we can see how busy it is and how much help I’ll need.”
“How much do you pay an hour?”
I have no idea. I wasn’t planning on hiring anyone until I’d tested the waters on my business venture.
“How about you come by Monday after school and we can talk about it?” I say. “I mean, if you’re interested.”
“Yeah, I’m interested.”
It looks like I will need to set up payroll sooner rather than later.
“Good,” I say. “I’m glad. Thank you. I’ll, um, see you Monday.”
“Okay.”
She turns and continues plodding down the sidewalk. I can’t explain why, especially because it wrecks my expense spreadsheet, but I want that girl to work in my bookstore. She loves it as much as I do. She deserves to be a part of it’s new life.
I lock up the store and head back to the city. One last dinner with my family as a resident of Tucson. One last night spent in Naomi’s in-law suite. One more day before I move myself to Blissful for good.