The Last Page

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Ella

“The Vegetarian by Han Kang put me in a mental spiral for days. Couldn’t recommend more.”

—Mabel’s Staff Pick

The Last Page had turned into a disaster.

It’d been a week since Henry’s takeover—who would’ve guessed that he had a penchant for fascism?

Every single day, he came into the meetings with something else that needed to change.

He’d post memos in the break rooms at random times of the day whenever something occurred to him.

Some things were minor, like making the cashiers double count the cash at the register, which I could admit was a good change.

But some were just ridiculous. He took away the free coffee in the break room, citing we spent too much on the cups and coffee grounds.

At the registers, each person had their own space heater during the winter, but he took those away, too, claiming the electrical bill was through the roof, but he didn’t turn the heater up in the store any higher.

Shelvers were no longer allowed to have drinks with them.

They had to leave them at an info desk, and anytime they wanted to take a sip, they’d have to go all the way back.

Henry insisted this was to prevent damage to the books, but it wasted so much time for the booksellers to walk back and forth.

And most of the time, they stopped shelving and chatted with whomever was at the info desk.

To a rational group of people, these changes wouldn’t have been that upsetting.

But rational would be the last word I used to describe this particular group of booksellers.

They hated change and they loved to complain.

Life at a bookstore was cozy, and there was comfort in knowing you’d wake up every single day and shelve The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo with the bestsellers.

Personally, I was trying to adjust to life as just a manager.

I’d spent so long observing the store, coming up with ways to improve it and see it like Leo did.

I had to reckon with the fact that I’d never own the store.

Part of me was itching to just tell the booksellers to ignore him.

If I asserted my authority, they’d listen to me, not him.

But this was all part of the plan: Get the booksellers riled up, force him out, and take over the store.

He’d lasted a lot longer than I thought he would, though. Even though he’d taken to locking his door to keep the booksellers from airing every grievance they had, that didn’t stop them from trying. Or coming to the managers.

“I can’t take another minute of the complaining,” Julie said, sliding behind the info desk on the main floor with me. She bent down to rest her elbows on the desk, her head falling into her hands.

I winced. “How bad is it?”

“I twitch every time I hear the name Henry,” she mumbled. She lifted her head and said, “Ren, sweet baby angel Ren, who has never been mean to anyone a day in their entire life, just told me they wished Henry would fall off one of the ladders.”

I flinched. “I bet that’s not even the worst of the conversations.”

“Jack had choice words today in the break room that are not appropriate for the public.”

I snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure he did. The whole vibe of the store is moody and pissed off. It’s like we work at The Strand or something.”

She studied me. “How’re you doing with all of this?”

“Fine,” I said, shrugging. She shot me a look that said she didn’t believe me at all. “I’m fine. It’s not ideal, but …”

“You must be seething over the fact that he’s sitting in Leo’s office every day.”

I shrugged but didn’t meet her eye. “Leo was his grandfather, not mine.”

“Ella,” Julie said softly. “Everyone knows he was just as much your grandfather as he was Henry’s. Blood doesn’t determine family. It’s okay if you’re upset about it.”

Duh. Julie was probably the only person here I could talk to about it. I hadn’t really allowed myself to grieve. Everyone needed me in such a debilitating way that I couldn’t let the mask slip for even a second. The booksellers were up in arms over Henry, but they were coping with the loss, too.

Those first few weeks without Leo were brutal. Everyone looked toward me as a guiding light, which was fine, but … a lot of pressure. I didn’t have my own space in the dark, nor did I have any light to look to.

I loved helping out my family, which included the booksellers. But sometimes, I was exhausted being everyone’s big sister and no one’s friend.

I was so busy running around the city, checking on everyone else, that in the quiet moments at night in my little studio off West 45th, I was too scared to let those sad thoughts in. They were building up and at this point, I couldn’t let the dam break.

“I am a little upset,” I admitted. “I don’t think he’ll be able to handle it. I bet he goes back to Tennessee sooner than we think and everything goes back to normal.”

“I think everyone’s waiting for you to blow.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to.”

“If you say so,” she sang.

“Any luck lately?” I asked and almost immediately Julie shook her head.

The Last Page wasn’t everyone’s final destination like mine. This was supposed to just be a stopping point for Julie until she could get into wedding planning. She’s been applying to be an apprentice, hoping something would catch.

“Everyone wants someone with experience,” she explained, shrugging. “Which I just don’t have.”

“You could easily have if you adjusted your hours here,” I said. “I told you I’ve got no problem doing that.” When she hesitated, I shot her a look. “What? Just say it.”

“You might not mind, but the big man upstairs might.”

I huffed. “Let me take care of that. Seriously, Jules, apply to some jobs and see what happens and we’ll figure it out, okay?”

Julie nodded and said, “Alright, alright, I’ll send out feelers.”

Before I could respond, my phone rang, Maya’s face lighting up the screen. Maya was a sophomore in high school and all of her problems were filtered through me.

“Hey, I’m at work. What’s up?” I asked, answering the phone.

“I’m going to the movies, can I have some money?”

I frowned. Maya had been asking me for money more than usual lately. I was suspicious at first, hoping she hadn’t gone down a bad path, and made her send me pictures of where she was to prove it. But she truly was just going to the mall or movies.

I stepped away from the info desk and lowered my voice. “Maya, what’s going on here?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know I don’t mind giving you money, but why aren’t you asking Mom or Dad?”

She hesitated. “Mom said we needed to start saving. I swear I’m just going to the movies.”

“I believe you, hermanita. Okay, I’ll send you some.”

After a quick Venmo her way, I dialed my mom’s number.

“Hijita, I’m at work,” she whispered. “Everything okay?”

“That’s what I called to ask you. What’s going on at home?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Maya keeps asking for money and I saw the stack of bills—”

“Ay, hija, nothing you need to worry about. I’ve got to go back to work. I’ll call you later.”

And with that she hung up. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t slightly concerned about my family right now.

I’ve always tried to help them out with money when they needed it, but after a while they started refusing.

With both of my parents working late and the bills stacking up, something wasn’t adding up.

Part of the duties of the bookseller at the info desk was sorting out the used books we’d bought in.

The buying desk was in the very back of the store.

Customers lined up outside to sell their books and clean out their bookshelves.

And once those books came in and were labeled, it was up to the info desk to sort them into their proper sections.

Lyle and I were working at main info when Joey came wheeling the cart in while sending me a death glare.

“What’d I do now?” I asked.

“Henry.”

“Nope. Didn’t do that.”

“You’re just letting him destroy our lives.”

I began pulling the books from the cart so I could organize them at the desk.

“I love how levelheaded you are, Joey. Never one for the dramatics.”

“I’m not being dramatic.” He stomped his foot. “Excuse me for caring about this store.”

“It’s just an adjustment period, Joey. Nothing bad has happened yet.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You know damn well I need to drink my caramel latte from Blank Street Coffee when I shelve. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane.”

“Yet somehow you’ve managed.”

“That’s debatable,” Lyle muttered.

As I emptied the cart, I said, “If anything gets really bad, we’ll figure it out together, alright?”

“What aren’t you getting, Carmella?” Joey gesticulated wildly. “This is the bad place.”

“Alright, save your outdated references for Stewart,” I said flatly. “Everything is fine, Joey. There’s no reason to worry. Besides, it’s good for you to get more steps in during the day!”

Joey quieted and I followed his gaze to see Henry coming down the stairs.

In New York City, it was pretty hard to stand out.

I’ve seen people in fur coats, with tails, and even dressed in Speedos during the winter and haven’t batted an eye.

Nothing was particularly special about the way Henry dressed, but it caught my eye every time.

He came into the store with a variation of khakis and a button-down or jeans and a flannel.

(Regrettably, his flannels snagged around his biceps in an unfortunately distracting way. It was like if Satan were a hot guy.)

As he descended toward the main floor, he looked disheveled. His hair was sticking up wildly, like he’d been running his hands through it all day. Stubble peppered along his jaw.

“Something wicked this way comes,” Lyle sang. “I’m off to shelve in History. Good luck.”

Henry caught my eye and beelined toward the desk.

“See ya,” Joey said, but I snagged his elbow.

“Not so fast. You’re not leaving me alone with him,” I said through clenched teeth. “Henry, hi!”

Up close, he looked tired. This was the enemy, I reminded myself. Who cared if he hadn’t gotten enough sleep or food?

Still … I hated just how sad he looked. There were bags under his eyes, his shoulders just a tad slouched, like he was having trouble standing on his own.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked quietly, side-eyeing Joey. There was no way I was being left alone with him. Each time we’d spoken since the fight in Leo’s office, it was like we were on the brink of nuclear war.

“Joey and I were just revisiting some shelving guidelines,” I lied, nudging Joey, hoping he’d follow along.

“Thanks, Ella, now I understand that it’s alphabetical.”

I shot Joey a quick annoyed look and said, “Can it wait?”

Henry frowned, his gaze focusing on Joey as he shoved his hands in his front pockets. Joey turned to me, his eyes wide with anticipatory (if not melodramatic) fear.

“Joey, would you mind working on something for me?”

Joey gulped loudly. “Yes, sir.”

I rolled my eyes and elbowed him again. “Tone it down,” I muttered.

“Do you mind emptying the trash bins on this floor? They’re starting to overflow.”

Joey’s gaze flew to mine. I shook my head and said, “No, we have a system. It’s not Joey’s turn.”

Henry frowned. “A system?”

“Yes, and it’s not Joey’s turn.”

Henry sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Listen, the bins are overflowing. Joey, can’t you be a team player and go do it while Ella and I chat?”

Joey stepped forward, but I put an arm out to stop him. “No, it’s not Joey’s turn.”

Henry shot me an irritated look. “Joey, I’m telling you to go do it.”

Joey stepped forward, but this time, I grabbed his arm and yanked him back. “Joey, go back to the back info desk. I’ll tell Sarah to take out the trash since it’s her turn.”

Joey quickly scampered off, leaving Henry and I to face each other. I’d let all the stupid memos and changes piss of the booksellers until they complained enough to drive him out. But I drew the line at treating them like shit.

“I’m trying to assert my control here,” Henry said.

I snorted. “I assure you, ‘asserting your control’ is not the way to earn their respect. They’ll listen to me over you any day. I tried to tell you that we have systems in place.”

“I’m the owner—”

“And a newcomer,” I interjected. “We’ve all been working at the bookstore for years. There’s no reason for Joey to have to take out the trash over Sarah, when he was the last person to do it. It’s a stupid power play that’ll only result in them hating you. You’re doing this all wrong.”

“I’m not trying to,” he insisted, perhaps a little too loudly, growing irritated. “I’m just trying to help.” He shook his head and changed the subject. “Look, none of this matters. I need to talk to you.”

“And that’s where the issue is,” I hissed. “All of this matters. How we treat each other in the store, making this a friendly place to work.”

Henry’s head jerked back, shocked. “I’m not making it unfriendly.”

“Whipping out your dick to prove how strong you are isn’t friendly. You’re not running this store the way Leo would and everyone can see it,” I snapped.

The tips of his ears tinted red and I recoiled, instantly regretting my words.

“I’m doing what I think is best.”

“You should do what I think is best,” I muttered.

“I’m not an idiot, I know what you’re doing. Sending them all my way isn’t going to make me go running for the hills. Do you care more about the store doing well or being owner?”

Anger rushed through me. I leaned forward and said, “I don’t really care if you fail or not, Henry. I always care most about the store. It’ll always be my priority. If it were yours, you’d just listen to me and stop stomping around everywhere like you own the place.”

“I do own the place!”

“Let me know when you’re ready to put your ego aside and ask for my help.”

Henry looked shaken, eyes wide. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so harsh, but something had to give soon. And it wasn’t going to me or my booksellers. I grabbed a stack of unorganized books and stepped past him.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll try not to dehydrate as I shelve my books.”