Chapter 18
Nerves quivering, Shelby unlocked the store and slipped inside. The familiar smell of books welcomed her as she flipped the
Open sign and headed up the staircase. It’s just another Monday at the bookshop.
Gram’s cackle reverberated through her skull.
Not funny, Gram.
At the top of the stairs Shelby stopped to straighten the hardcover books on an endcap. She got distracted by the beautiful
cover of Elizabeth Berg’s latest novel, and while she read the back cover copy, Chaucer wove through her legs, emitting a
loud meow.
“Hi, buddy. Don’t worry, I didn’t forget you.”
She set the book down and set out Chaucer’s food behind the counter. The cat gave her a dismissive glance and waited for her
to leave. He didn’t like an audience.
“You’re very welcome.”
The bell jangled downstairs and a minute later Gray appeared, looking handsomer than any man had a right to. The sun flooded
through the plate-glass window, chiseling shadows into his perfectly sculpted face. The blue button-down stretched across
his broad shoulders and hugged his thick biceps.
Really, God? He couldn’t have grown a paunch or lost some hair in the past ten years?
“Morning.” His raspy voice scraped the corners of her heart.
She’d been staring. She dragged her eyes away and made herself busy behind the counter. “Morning.”
“I was up late last night making a list. I’d like to get your thoughts on where you want to start.”
“Uh, sure. But I need to call Sturgis first thing and see if they’ll give me some grace with the rent. If they won’t...
all of this will be a moot point.” She’d tried hard to put that possibility from her mind.
“It’s in their best interest to work with us. And the store has a long history of financial stability. I like our chances.”
“Fingers crossed.” She checked her watch. “They open in half an hour.”
“We might as well get rolling then.” He dumped his messenger bag under the counter.
It hit her fresh that he’d taken off the rest of the year from his regular job to help her. How could he afford to be away
that long? Was he risking his job? Gray’s text yesterday had been brief and to the point. “Hope you didn’t have to sell your
soul to get this leave of absence.”
He spared her a glance. “Just my firstborn.”
“Probably would’ve looked like you anyway.”
His lips twitched. “Should we go down to the office?”
Shelby thought of the cramped space that would put them up close and personal. “Let’s stay out here since we’ll be talking
about the displays and merchandise.” Her gaze caught on the file in his hands. “Okay, let’s see your list.”
He handed over a document that resembled a Peter Carey novel more than a list. “You did all this last night?”
“Well, over the course of the past several days really. Plus Dog kept me awake till one.”
“Dog?”
“Have to call him something.”
“You could give him an actual name.”
“That would suggest ownership and I’m just fostering him till Patrick rehomes him.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
He stood silently while Shelby scanned the document. There were a lot of ideas here. Ideas that would require a lot of change.
A lot of work. By page 3 her head was spinning. Had she mentioned work? Would all of this really save the store, or would
it just put her in an early grave?
Gray slipped the document from her fingers. “I know it’s a lot. Let’s take one thing at a time. The merchandise is something
we should get right on. Black Friday is less than a month away. How do you feel about ordering clothing, hats, and such related
to literature? Like I mentioned, the margins would be healthy. Do you think your customers would go for that kind of thing?”
“Sure. I mean, I would.” Gram had been resistant to sidelines. She’d kept them to a bare minimum. “But this is a bookshop
first and foremost. I don’t want to turn it into a novelty store.”
“Agreed.”
Shelby’s gaze drifted over full shelves that were somewhat crammed together. The store had a few rooms, but it wasn’t exactly
spacious. “Where exactly would we put all this additional merchandise?”
“I thought we’d clear out—or at least minimize—the genres that aren’t selling. I have spreadsheets that show us what those
are, but I’ll bet you already know.”
“Historical fiction, poetry, and... westerns,” she admitted reluctantly. Gram had loved westerns and stocked copious copies
of all her favorites. She glanced at the shelving bearing those beloved titles as tears stung her eyes. Would this even feel
like Gram’s store by the time they finished revamping it? These changes would feel like losing Gram again, bit by bit.
Gray touched her arm. “I know it’ll be hard making changes to your grandma’s store. But we have to think of the greater good. We’re honoring her by making the store a success. Besides, if we don’t make the hard decisions, there won’t be a store left at all.”
She winced. “Harsh . ”
“There’s an entire bookcase of westerns and you only sold one in the past month.”
She remembered the sale. She’d actually kind of pushed the guy into it. Okay, fine, westerns weren’t exactly flying off the
shelves.
“That’s how we’ll make space for inventory that’ll turn a profit and bring us back into the black.”
“You’re really warming the cockles of my heart there, Briggs.”
“What are cockles anyway and how exactly are they warmed?”
She wasn’t sure about her cockles, but her arm was actually heating up. Because, yes, his hand still rested there, burning
her skin like a hot coal. She shifted until his hand fell, then aimed for her pockets with trembling hands.
Oh, right. No pockets.
A shuffle sounded and Logan appeared at the top of the stairs, his gaze quickly landing on her. And Gray. Her and Gray.
Logan frowned.
Because she might’ve forgotten to notify him that Gray was sticking around town for, oh, the rest of the year or so. Whoops.
Logan’s gaze toggled back to Shelby. “I was waiting for you at the bakery...”
The bakery. Where they’d had plans to meet before work. She slapped a hand to her forehead. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”
Gray shifted away. “I, uh, have a phone call to make. We can pick this up later.”
“Right, yeah.”
Logan’s brows lowered beneath the rim of his glasses as he watched Gray’s retreating form until he disappeared down the steps.
“I thought Gray left,” he said when Gray was gone.
“So did I. It was— A lot has happened since we last spoke.” Well, okay, they’d texted but hadn’t spoken on the phone or in
person. “The audit turned up some problems. The store’s in trouble financially, Logan. I mean deep trouble.” She explained
the dire situation and told him about Gray’s offer of help.
Logan regarded her with pressed lips, and when her words finally petered out, he pushed his glasses into place. “He’s staying
here for two months and you didn’t think to mention it to me?”
Well, golly gee, she’d had a few things on her mind this weekend. Things like salvaging her grandmother’s business—and her
own career for that matter. Hadn’t she just mentioned her entire future was on the line? “I told you, Logan. It slipped my
mind.” The words came out stiffly. Which was fine because she was feeling a little starchy about the judgy stare he leveled
on her.
“Yes, I recall. The same way you forgot we were meeting at the bakery, as we do every Monday morning, because your ex-boyfriend
is hanging around town in hopes of winning you back.”
“That’s ridiculous. He’s here to help save Gram’s store, nothing more.”
“I saw him touching you.”
“He was touching my arm . Offering consolation because I’ve just lost my grandmother, and I’m in danger of losing her store as well.”
“I’m sorry for your troubles. Truly. But you could’ve asked me for help.”
“I don’t need a bank loan, Logan. I need to turn this business around, and quick. And if that means accepting Gray’s help,
that’s what I’ll do. It’s my shop, my decision. I’m sorry I neglected to inform you and sorry I missed our meeting, but I
was—”
“Date.”
“—in the middle of some—” She gave her head a shake. “What?”
“You missed our date. Not meeting.”
He was quibbling over semantics? “Yes, fine. I missed our date. And again, I’m sorry. I’ve been pretty distracted and anxious as you might imagine.”
“I accept your apology.” He glanced back toward the staircase. “But I can’t say I’m too thrilled about your ex-boyfriend skulking
around for the next two months.”
He was jealous. Which was absurd because Gray was the last man she’d trust with her heart. However, she wasn’t exactly feeling
warm toward Logan now either. He didn’t seem to grasp the gravity of her situation. “It’s business, Logan. That’s all.”
He regarded her for a long moment. “All right. If you say so.”
“I do.”
“Okay, good.” He checked his watch. “Sorry to dash off, but I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. I’ll call you later.”
“All right.”
He gave her a peck on the cheek, then turned and strode from the store, his loafers silent on the wood floor.
Their first argument, if you could call it that, had ended with an apology and forgiveness. But somehow it had left her feeling...
what? She couldn’t put her finger on it.
She shook away the thought. Didn’t matter. She had much bigger problems to solve and they had nothing to do with Logan.
Gray hadn’t expected to be heading home before noon. But his neighbor Mrs. Lyons called shortly after Logan Shackleford left
the store to inform him that Dog hadn’t ceased barking since Gray left this morning.
As he exited his SUV he could hear the animal barking like a maniac.
When he opened the front door, Dog fell on him like he’d been gone for months, all waggy tail and floppy tongue.
“All right, all right. Yes, hello, I’m home.
Was it really so bad—the air-conditioning, comfy couch, bowls of food and fresh water? ”
Dog clambered in a happy mess all over Gray’s feet.
His gaze sharpened on the wood floor—or more specifically the hundreds of scratches the dog had clawed into the threshold.
He gave the dog a withering look. “Really? You ruined the floor?”
Ruined might be a bit hyperbolic. He could fix it, but geez. Last thing he needed right now. The joyful gleam in the dog’s eyes
tamped down his frustration. Yeah, all right. He knew a thing or two about loneliness. Still. He gave the floor one last frown.
He couldn’t exactly leave him home all day to damage his floor and God knew what else. There were dog crates, but it seemed
cruel to lock the creature up all day. Shelby had given him permission to bring the dog back to the store, but Gray wasn’t
happy about the inconvenience. Or the distraction. They had a lot of work ahead of them.
Now he was arranging his life around the mangy mutt. “Don’t get used to it.” He grabbed the rope-leash from the hook on the
wall. “Come on.”
The dog trotted at his side, then hopped into the vehicle and sat on the passenger seat like he was human. Except for the
tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. The dog was grinning at him, he’d swear it.
He turned onto the road that led to the store, his mind going back to Shelby and her confrontation—if you could call it that—with
her boyfriend. He didn’t remember Logan from his years in Grandville, but Gray recalled the Shackleford family. His mom and
dad owned the local supermarket. Hadn’t Logan’s dad run for town council a time or two? He couldn’t remember if the man had
won, but probably. The Shacklefords were well respected in the community. They lived in one of the McMansions on the lake.
They no doubt adored Shelby. Who wouldn’t?
It had been obvious Logan wasn’t too keen on Gray’s continued presence in Grandville.
Welcome to the club, pal.
Logan was a professional, judging by his crisp white shirt, red tie, and pressed pants. He hailed from a fine, upstanding family. Pillar of the community. The guy couldn’t be more Gray’s opposite. Maybe Shelby had finally figured out what she was looking for.
The thought rankled. No sense dwelling on it though. He wasn’t here to cause her problems. He was here to help solve them.
When he entered the store he headed back to the office, Dog in tow. Shelby was behind the desk and just ending a call. She
beamed at him as the dog begged shamelessly for her affection, which she gave. “That was the rep from Sturgis. I explained
about Gram passing and my inheriting a bit of a mess. She seemed reluctant to cut us a break at first, but she came around.
She’s giving us till after Christmas. Normal rent payments will have to resume in January, and we’ll have to pay what we owe
in back rent then too.” Her smile faltered. “And now that I’m saying it out loud, it sounds kind of impossible.”
“No, no, that’s great. The holidays are where it’s at in retail—you know that. We’ll implement some changes and make it bigger
than ever.”
“You really think we can do this?” Shelby said.
“We’ll give it everything we’ve got.”