Page 26 of Heart of Dixie
Flynn’s plate was nearly empty by now. He sat back against the cushion and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “So, Dixie, I heard you spent some time in the bookstore yesterday.” Hepicked up Colleen’s hand and held it on the table. “What did you think of it?”
“I always did love that house clear from when Mrs. Avery lived there. It has so much charm.”
Flynn nodded thoughtfully. “Charm, yes. It does have that in spades. But as an independent book shop, I believe it lacks character. Would you agree?”
Beth was wiggling in her seat. Colleen had gone still, but her eyes were wide. Something was going on.
I envisioned the space without Deke and his corded arms wrapped around me. “Flynn, I’m not sure what you want to hear from me. The store has plenty of shelving; it’s full of inventory. A nice selection of comfortable furniture for lounging and reading. Good lighting. The only thing I noticed missing was customers.”
“Exactly! That’s where we’re stumped. How do we get people to come in? We’re open on the weekends and in the evenings, but everyone is busy with other things.”
The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to slide into place. And like Ruby suggested, these two had no idea what they were doing. I leaned forward and gave him my spiel. “You’re right, people are busy with their lives. So you have to make your store a place they want to be. It has to be important to them. You can do that by holding informal get-togethers or staging special events. It can be something as simple as a book club that meets once a month, or something as exciting as a bestselling author coming to do a signing.
“You can offer children’s reading hour on Saturday morning, and guest speakers on what’s normally an especially slow night. You’d want to provide a display of books on the subject ahead of time to gather enthusiasm. And in that empty corner in the back that’s dead space now . . . provide an espresso machine or one of those single-serve coffeemakers. Maybe cookies when you have these events.” I took a look around the table, but all threeof them had blank expressions as if they were in shock. “Is that what you were getting at?”
Colleen took a deep breath and erupted. “Whatwe’regetting at is that I have a bookstore I love and a baby due within weeks, and I can’t manage both. I’ve had feelers out for months, but nobody I know has the time or the experience to take over for me.”
Flynn leaned forward and braced his arms against the table. “If you can juggle everything you must manage now—and honestly, Beth’s shared a few stories about your clients—”
Colleen nodded. “—And we saw the video of your baseball player on the internet.”
Along with the rest of the country, but—
Beth scowled and grabbed my arm. “We’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you this since before you got to town even. Would you think about . . . evenconsider,running the store for Colleen while she’s occupied being a new mommy?”
Oh, no!Something deep inside was clamoring loud and clear,No! No! No!In what parallel universe was Queen Colleen suddenly my bestie that I’d rearrange my life for?I chose to ignore Flynn and his hard stare and focused instead on the women. Their matching expressions were hopeful, but my remaining hours here were numbered; I wasn’t getting suckered into staying.
“Colleen. Beth.” I shook my head. There was no way this was a good idea. “Thank you for asking, for offering, and I’ll think about it. I’m flattered. But I have my work. I have friends. I have a life. And it’s all back in LA.” The pleading expression on Colleen’s face bordered desperation, but that wasn’t my problem. “I’m sure you’ll find someone soon. A local who belongs here and knows your customers, and she’ll fill in nicely.”
Colleen slumped back in her seat and pretended she wasn’t about to cry. “Well, bless your heart for giving it some thought.”Flynn patted her hand as she turned to face out the window and her chin quivered. Damn it, though the disappointment on Beth’s face was triggering something that felt suspiciously like guilt.
I followed Colleen’s gaze through the gingham-bordered window and across the street to where wooden-framed panes of glass showcased tables loaded with colorful book displays. It looked quaint and friendly. “If I were planning to stick around, if I evencouldstay, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than help run your store for a while.” I let regret seep into my voice; she might be a nice person these days. Stranger things had happened. “Things always seem to work out the way they’re meant to. Someone will find it in their heart to help; you have to trust in that.”
15
Dixie
The decision to travel to Kissing Creek may not have been my own, but the decision to leave was, and I was sticking to it. After breakfast, Beth and I parted ways on the sidewalk outside Break an Egg—her to return home and sleep as she’d been working all night; me to check in with the baker. The sun was fully up, but the forecast was for relief from the swelter for the next few days. A walk seemed like a good idea.
A crowd hovered at the café tables near the bakery entrance and I let my steps shorten as I approached. It seemed a pleasant sort of place, but up till now I’d mostly managed to avoid both the curious glances and welcoming comments of the townspeople. Once I hit their perimeter, though, I was fair game. What was it with everyone and their perpetual cheerfulness?Suck it up, Dixie. You just need to check on the desserts you ordered and then you’re out of here.I passed the first of the front windows with its beautiful selection of overstuffed gift baskets and handcrafted items.
A blur of red pulled up to the curb and caught my attention just as Deke hopped over the side of his classic convertible—pristine as though he spent all night polishing it. His hair was tucked behind his ears and hung to his shoulders; his stride was long and confident and had him beside me in no time.
“’Morning, Dixie.” His eyes were warm as they looked me up and down, and goosebumps broke out on my bare arms. “You’re looking good this morning. You here for Stephanie’s buttermilk crullers? That and a cup of coffee will start any Saturday right.”
I tried to ignore my racing heartbeat, but my inner slut remembered the night I just spent—and was in a full pout. “Nah, already had quiche down at Ruby’s.” I paused when he laughed.
“What did you really order?” He was still shaking his head and chuckling.
How did he know—?“We asked for waffles, but there was some mix-up, and—”
“There was no mix-up. That was just Ruby being Ruby.” He nodded as though he’d solved the greatest mystery of the world. “So, why are you here?” He reached out to open the door. “Did you not like the quiche?”
The overhead bell dinged as I entered—of course it did. He held the door wide and brushed against me as he followed me inside. “Yes. No. It was delicious.”Oh, dear God.“I’m checking on my ordery. Beth recommended I have her put some desserts together for Cooter’s reception.”
The shop smelled like yeast and sugar . . . and even though I came directly from a full meal, temptation. “Be right out!” A pleasant female voice yelled from the back room. The doors between the bakery café and the kitchen area were thrown wide, the work counters plainly visible. Carts with baking trays stacked taller than I was were all loaded with fresh baked goods. The cases out front contained a selection of the morning’s doughnuts, already picked through—frosted and filled andcrullers and cinnamon rolls, and others topped with nuts—and all had my mouth watering. Maybe tomorrow I’d again ignore all the calories I was logging this trip and drag Beth here for breakfast.
He nodded his approval. “You’re really getting things done, aren’t you?”
