Page 25 of Off the Wall

“Please don’t say that.” I gulp against the lump in my throat.

Violet shifts her focus back to me, her eyes widening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up your?—”

“It’s fine.” I cut her off and square my shoulders. “I just can’t believe you’re selling your home after so many years.”

“Oh, I’m not selling the house,” she says. “The mortgage is paid off, so I’ll keep the place for now, for sentimental reasons. Besides, Larry and I will need somewhere to stay when we visit.”

I gulp. “What about your employees?” At this point, between baristas, counter clerks, bakers, and custodial staff, we’ve got a dozen people who count on this job.

Icount on this job.

Violet slips off her glasses and rubs the bridge of her nose. “We’ll give whoever Glen and his son don’t need several months’ notice, and they already promised to keep you on as their office manager and head barista. Think about it, Nori.You were under so much pressure in New York. And this way …”

Violet doesn’t have to finish her sentence. We’re both obviously thinking about the book stores I couldn’t save last year. And I don’t blame her. People warned me the chain was too far gone by the time Book Smart hired me as a strategy consultant. I took on the challenge anyway, with all the confidence in the world.

And I failed.

Still, New York City is a whole planet away from Serendipity Springs. And I’d been hoping Violet would see the difference. That someday she’d trust me enough to give me a chance. That with enough time, she’d see me as someone who could actually own this shop myself.

Apparently my time is running out.

I clear my throat, and my pulse picks up. “Would Larry be mad if you sold Serendipi-Tea to me instead of to his friend?”

“Of course Larry wouldn’t be mad, dear. He’s grown to love you almost as much as I do. And under different circumstances, you would’ve been my first choice to take over the business.” She breathes out a sigh. “I was just trying to be … realistic. And maybe a little selfish. The opportunity Glen presented was just too good to pass up. And I didn’t want to add any more stress to your life. I also didn’t want you talking me out of the idea. I figured you’d be convincing.” She shoves her glasses back on. “And I wasn’t wrong.”

“So it’s not a done deal, then?”

“Not yet.” She peers at me over the rims. “We weren’t planning to make any concrete moves until the fall.”

“Good.” I grin at her. “Then give me the summer, and I’ll buy this place myself.”

Chapter Eight

Cash

I sidestepa chalkboard sign advertising Sunday drink specials and peer through the front windows of Serendipi-Tea. At the same time, a flock of ladies emerges clutching toddlers and to-go cups. I hold the door open as they clamor out in a flurry of smiles and thank-yous. I like that about this town.

It’s a welcome change from places where people don’t make eye contact.

The thing is, I’m a sucker for chivalry, so I always hold doors anyway. And once one person comes through, it’s hard to stem the tide. Letting go of the door feels like cutting someone off. When a place is really busy, I’ve been known to stand in an entryway for a full minute.

“You’re early,” Sandra Fulsome calls out, coming toward me up the sidewalk. She’s wearing a sundress and sandals. I’ve never seen her in anything but scrubs.

Sandra’s a physician’s assistant for the busiest orthopedic surgeons at Springs Memorial. Dr. Arnold, more specifically. She’s already a fan of my company’s surgical systems, but I want her to become a fan of me now.

Specifically.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been here before.” Her grin is bright. “Doesn’t it look great?”

I smile back. “Absolutely.”

A bell jangles as we head inside. The shop is warm and sun-drenched. Every spot that isn’t inhabited by furniture or floor lamps has some kind of greenery. I’m hit with the same kind of comfortable vibe I get in the courtyard at The Serendipity. I wish I were there now, but I promised the hospital staff treats today.

When Sandra heard I’d been planning to grab a bunch of donuts at Spring Foods, she insisted on meeting me here instead. And if we end up discussing Powell’s new custom screwdriver while she offers advice on baked goods, well.

That’s fine by me.

Unlike a lot of the staff at Springs Memorial, Sandra’s a lifelong resident of Serendipity Springs, so I’m not surprised when she greets everyone here by name. Apparently, I showed up to Serendipi-Tea with everybody’s best friend.

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