Chapter 17 Taylor
TAYLOR
The following day, I’m standing in the bookshop, unable to believe my eyes.
The shop is packed with faces that are new as well as some that are familiar. I know a few are from neighboring shops, here to support me. But most are just folks from Angel Mountain, curious about the shop.
And they’re buying books too, not just looking around.
I’m glad all over again that Maureen and Taffy helped me out with the library circulation info.
I’ve got plenty of the chart-topping bestsellers, but I’ve also got a great selection of holiday children’s books, plus local history and nature guides that the vacation people are always looking for, and even a small section of books by authors who spend time in the Poconos.
And of course I have all the romances, cozy mysteries, and science-based thrillers that the locals love.
I ran out of canvas totes to give away before the morning was even over, and I’ve got a waitlist of customers who want to buy one when I can restock. Thankfully, I had a ton of bookmarks, and I’m hoping they last the day.
It feels so good to share books with a community that wants them. And it also feels good to look around and see Roan’s family everywhere.
They all came out to support me this morning, and when my quiet little opening turned into a circus, they put themselves right to work.
His mom, Ellie, is at the checkout counter, taking payments and bagging up books. It turns out she runs the register at the church thrift shop once a week, so this was no big deal for her.
Phil is helping people find the books they want. He volunteers at the library and everyone knows him. It feels like he was meant to do this job.
Roan is restocking bestsellers from the boxes in the back. I’m so glad I over-ordered things now that it turns out we need them.
Buck is selling trees at the lot today, so Roan can be here with me. I appreciate it every time I catch a glimpse of him out the window.
And Meg is standing by the display of Starhoof, talking to everyone who comes in about what a great book it is, and what a great Christmas gift it would make.
It thrills me to hear her talk about the book. She finished it in one night and started re-reading it immediately. The two of us definitely share our taste in books.
And apparently we aren’t the only ones that like it.
I’m already seeing buzz online about the book.
The author, Angeline, tagged me in a post last night, thanking me for giving her “weird little book” a chance, which meant the world to me.
I couldn’t help noticing that her whole profile is lighting up and her follower count is higher every time I look.
My own phone was buzzing all morning to tell me there’s another comment on my video of the display at the shop, which really blew up after she kindly reposted it.
I eventually just had to silence my phone to stop being distracted from what’s going on in the shop.
I guess Angeline’s new fans are super happy about any buzz the book gets. I know I sure am.
And she deserves it. Starhoof is incredible. It’s not the fancy launch either of us was hoping for, but I’m glad it’s finding readers.
For now, I’m floating around the shop, greeting people as they come in and thanking them for being here, and asking those who are leaving if they found everything they wanted. And if they didn’t, I take notes and get their contact info.
It honestly feels like I’ve found my calling.
I know every day won’t be like this. We had an ad in the local paper, and plenty of people were just curious.
But I’m selling plenty and there are people looking right at home, spread out on the chairs and sofa, or sitting at the little table, or just browsing, chatting, and looking happy and relaxed.
I have a feeling that a lot of them will be back.
At one point, Maddie Foster Stone, a local author that I’ve been hoping to meet, stops by with her family.
Her son, Dylan, makes a beeline for the Christmas books while I talk with her and her husband, Jake, and baby Serafina.
The baby stays in her father’s arms, but looks around with great curiosity, her big brown eyes fixing on anything she can’t reach with her chubby little hands.
Turns out that Maddie’s father was the sculptor of those cute Foster’s Figurines everyone loves so much—the ones I spotted on my first trip to the library, and in a whole bunch of local shops since then.
Of course, with them being the product of one of Angel Mountain’s own, everyone around here is particularly fond of them.
These days, Maddie owns the factory nearby, where a batch of newer artists make brand-new figurines every year.
Before they leave, with two canvas totes packed high with books, Maddie pulls me aside and offers to have one of her artists make a special figure with a stack of books for me to sell at the shop.
It’s almost too much, and I nearly cry at the idea that the shop could be immortalized in that way as a part of Angel Mountain.
Annie from the Better Angels Diner comes by too, and practically cleans out my historical romance section.
She also talks about helping me put together a coffee station here in the shop, and I think I’ll take her up on it.
She even offers to partner for discounts or events, and we’ve set up a time to brainstorm next week.
By late afternoon, I really feel like I’ve made some new friends.
I’m helping a new customer in the Mystery section when someone calls me from the front of the shop.
“Go on, dear,” the lady tells me. “I’m fine from here.”
“Let me know if you don’t find all you need,” I say. “I’m taking notes today so I can order more stock.”
“This place is incredible,” she says softly. She’s already forgotten me—her eyes are sliding across the shelves as a smile spreads across her face.
Feeling happy, I make my way through the crowd and find Lily and J.B. are by the door with a bunch of other kids that must be their schoolmates.
“Hi, guys,” I say. “Thank you so much for coming to my opening.”
“We didn’t know it was an opening,” J.B. says, looking around nervously before pulling her headphones up over her ears.
“We just wanted to see if you had more copies of Starhoof?” Lily says hopefully. “We finished it, and we’ve been passing around our copies, but now everyone wants to read it, and we only have two.”
“I just gave that to you a few days ago,” I say in amazement.
“It’s so good,” Lily says.
J.B. gives me two thumbs up.
“Do you have more?” one of the boys with them asks.
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, of course. This way.”
“Meg-short-for-Margaret,” Lily exclaims when we reach the table.
Meg is smiling ear-to-ear when Lily embraces her.
“Did you start this yet?” Lily asks her, pointing to the books on the table.
“Finished it,” Meg tells her proudly. “I started re-reading it again right away.”
“It’s unbelievable,” Lily agrees. “I should have known you would love it.”
The kids are all grabbing copies, and one boy has a whole stack of them.
“It’s for the guys on my floor,” he says defensively when he catches me looking.
“Buy as many as you want,” I reassure him. “I love this book and I’m so happy to know people will enjoy it.”
“Taylor discovered it,” Meg says proudly. “She got the author a contract to get it published.”
“No way,” Lily says, spinning to look me in the eye. “You didn’t tell us that the other day.”
“Oh, I’m not working for the publishing company anymore,” I say, feeling awkward.
“Why not?” the boy with the stack of books asks.
“It’s complicated,” I say, not exactly wanting to tell them that I was fired for buying their favorite book.
“Excuse me, miss,” a man says, leaning over the table to catch my attention. “What’s this about?”
But the kids are answering him before I can open my mouth, telling him how cool the book is and what a great message it has. He grabs a copy too, and I’m practically glowing when Roan’s mom calls my name from the register.
“Thanks, guys,” I say quickly before heading to see what Ellie needs.
“You have a call, dear,” she says, indicating the landline by the counter.
It’s way too noisy out here to talk.
“Can you send it to the back room?” I ask her.
“Of course,” she tells me, tapping on the buttons.
It took me forever to figure out the old landline system, but now I’m glad I did.
It’s ringing in the back by the time I get there. The storage space is cool and dim, and it’s nice and quiet compared to the bright warmth and noisy chatter of the shop. I jog over to where the phone hangs on the wall.
“A Wing & a Page,” I say as I pick up. “How can I help you today?”
“Taylor?” a familiar voice says.
Somehow, the phone has gone to speaker and I can’t figure out for the life of me how to get the incoming sound back to the receiver. So much for learning the phone system.
“Uh, David, hello,” I say, surprised to be hearing from my old boss. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s more than okay, Taylor,” he says. “And I owe you an apology.”
“You… you do?” I ask, completely lost.
“Starhoof is a hit,” he says simply. “It’s already earned more than anything we’ve ever published.”
“But you didn’t launch it,” I say, feeling confused.
“It took off organically,” he says. “The buzz started online, just a day or so after release. Now the reviews are flying in, and everyone loves it.”
“That’s great, David,” I tell him. “I’m so happy for you. I guess the company’s not in trouble anymore?”
And even though I didn’t exactly end things on good terms with the company, I’m honestly glad to hear it.
“We’re doing better than ever,” he assures me. “But we did make a big mistake, and it wasn’t buying Starhoof. It was firing the best commissioning editor we’ve ever had.”
“Listen, David, it’s fine,” I tell him. “I got lucky with Starhoof, but I knew it was a big swing. I shouldn’t have bought it without pitching it to you. It’s too different from our usual lineup. That was poor judgement on my part.”
It was, and I’ve come to terms with that.
“No, Taylor,” he says firmly. “It isn’t fine. And it wasn’t poor judgment. It’s clear to me now that you might just have the best judgment in the industry.”
“I don’t know about that,” I manage.
“I want you back here, as soon as possible,” he says firmly. “You can have your old job back. You don’t ever have to pitch anything to me again. If you want it, just buy it, and I’ll put everything we’ve got behind it.”
I have no idea what to say to that, so I don’t say anything at all. I just stand in the dark stockroom, reeling.