Page 5 of Novel Problems

“Um, right now?” I flexed my hands in anticipation of a long signing session. How long would it take to sign 841 books? A few hours? It would have to be at least that. The last time I’d signed around 200 books, it had taken me well over an hour, and by the end of it, my hand was aching. I’d never signed anywhere near 841 in one sitting before.

“Oh, wow.” George’s brow furrowed. “Look, I’m not sure you’re really meant to start before we’ve done all the paperwork. We should probably do a proper interview as well. But I’m in a bit of a pickle today. Ben, who you met yesterday, is out sick. So, if you could help, that would be amazing. It could be a trial run for both of us, and I’ll pay you, of course. It’s twenty-three dollars an hour, plus tips. Does that sound okay?”

I stared at her blankly.What the hell is she talking about? Ben? Interview? Tips?

Slowly, realization sank in. My stomach dropped. George thought I was here for a job to work at the café.Oh god.

And it didn’t help that she was staring at me expectantly with her warm, brown eyes.

I opened my mouth as I searched for the right words to rectify this situation—and searchedsome more.

Someone coughed, and I looked over to see that a line of customers had formed in front of the counter waiting to order. A wave of panic swept through me, sending blood pumping through my veins and making my head fuzzy.

“Yes, sure. That sounds good.” I bit down hard as soon as the words left my mouth.What the hell, Hannah? Why didn’t you just tell her who you are?

The short answer was I panicked. The long answer was that I’d always had a tendency to be a conflict-avoidant people pleaser. And there was something about George—even though I didn’t know her at all—that made me want to please her.But I’ll have to tell her who I really am at some point. Those books won’t sign themselves. Shit.

“Oh, great!” George’s eyes sparkled. “If you want, I can put your bag in the drawer under the counter. I keep it locked—not that I really need to. Sapphire Springs isn’t exactly known for its high crime rate.”

Despite the situation I’d just created, I couldn’t help smiling.

“Sure.” I handed my satchel over to her. “So, um, what can I do to help?” I asked when George had finished stowing my bag away.

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind taking this tea over to the woman at table nine, near the window, and then clearing the dirty tables, that would be great. After the lunch rush, I’ll show you how to use our ordering and payment system. Meanwhile, I’ll serve these customers.”

“No problem,” I said, taking the tea from the counter and walking over to the table on autopilot as self-chastising thoughts churned through my mind.You’re supposed to be signing the damn books and bunkering down to start the book you’ve only got six weeks to write, not getting a friggingjob, Hannah! Twenty-three dollars an hour isn’t going to pay Barb’s nursing home bills.

The customer smiled and thanked me for the tea as I placed it next to her.

The next three hours were a blur of delivering appetizing-looking food, coffee, and cakes; cleaning tables; and sneaking glances at George. She was extremely understaffed. Even with the two of us, we struggled to keep up with demand, but she remained calm under pressure, warmly greeting customers, whipping up coffees, and shooting orders through to the kitchen. George knew most of her customers’ names and their coffee orders by heart.

The lunch rush was over, and I was carrying a pile of dirty dishes to the kitchen when George appeared at the end of the counter, a warm smile on her face.

“Thank you so much for stepping in. Lunch was hectic. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” Her smile faded, and she raised her hand to her forehead. “Shit, I just realized—have you eaten? You should take a break. Would you like some lunch and a coffee? Choose anything on the menu. It's on the house.”

I blinked. I’d been so caught up in my new role as a server that I’d forgotten to eat. But now that George had raised the subject, my hunger levels skyrocketed from zero to one hundred in seconds.

“That would be amazing, if you’re sure that’s okay. I’d love a grain salad and a latte.” I’d been salivating over the salad all morning. Full of fresh herbs, freekeh, lentils, pomegranate seeds, currants, and slivered almonds, it was a favorite with the locals.

“Of course that’s okay. One grain salad and latte coming right up. Just take a seat wherever you’d like, and I’ll bring it out.”

Relieved to get off my feet, I collapsed on a chair at a table near the window. While the sandals I was wearing were thankfully flat, they didn’t offer much in the way of support.

Tomorrow, I’ll wear my comfy flats…I ran my hand through my hair.Tomorrow, Hannah, really? There won’t be a tomorrow. You need to come clean with George, sign those damn books, and get back to writing.I cringed. I was not looking forward to any of those things.

I chewed my lip. George didn’t strike me as someone who would ever panic-agree to a career change on the spot. At best, when I confessed who I really was, she would think I was weird. And even though I hardly knew her, I didn’t want that.

“Here’s your latte and salad,” George said a few minutes later, placing the mug and bowl in front of me.

“Thank you.” I smiled gratefully at her.

“Take your time. It doesn’t usually pick up again until the afternoon coffee rush, but I should be able to handle that, anyway. So let me know if you need to head off. If not, I thought I could train you on the systems after the coffee rush, but no problem if you’ve got other commitments.”

Yes, you do have other commitments—signing mountains of books hidden somewhere in this store.I had to tell George, but the words to explain what happened escaped me. My eyes dropped to the salad in front of me and my stomach rumbled. Maybe I’d be able to think more clearly after I’d eaten.

“Nope, that’s fine. I’m free all afternoon.” I inwardly sighed, frustrated at myself. The longer this went on, the more awkward it would be when I told George the truth. Typical Hannah. If I’d had enough courage to confrontTania when I’d first had suspicions about her infidelity, I wouldn’t have wasted years on our relationship.

I demolished my lunch and the latte, which were both delicious, and then spent a few minutes observing the café. It was clear that someone—perhaps George—had created this place with a lot of love and thought. Each item, from the stylish wooden pepper grinders on the tables, to the wooden floating shelves, pressed tin tiles on the ceiling, and brass pendant lights, had clearly been chosen with care, creating a cohesive whole. I peered down the left side of the store, where aisles of books stretched back. I was eager to see if George’s selection of books was as carefully curated as the rest of Novel Gossip’s contents. The café door swung open, and a group of people entered, talking loudly and interrupting my train of thought.

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