Page 27 of Silver Linings
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It’s beena busy day at the store, and it gets even busier when our delivery driver drops off ten large boxes. Where am I going to put all of this?
Why did I order so much new stock when Istillneed to renovate this place?
We only just finished going through old stock and donating a lot of what we didn’t want to keep in an effort to clear the space out before updates. But even with the donations, there is a distinct lack of storage and I’ll have to leave the new books in their boxes before I can find shelf space for them.
Carmen comes bounding out from behind an end cap. “Is this our new stock? Did my monster books come in?” She sounds so excited and hopeful, Ialmostwant to let her go ahead and start opening the boxes, but I throw out my arm and halt her grabby hands.
“The monster erotica is off limits for now.”
Carmen pouts at me and then stares longingly at the boxes. “That’s not very progressive of you.”
I stifle a giggle. “I promise, I’ll let you have it soon, but I gotta get some of the renovations done around here before I start pulling out new stock.”
“I still can’t believe you bought this place with drug money.”
“The cartel didn’t need it. They’ll bounce back quickly.” I wave her off, sorting through invoices as she goes to help someone who just came in.
Ignoring the stacks of boxes that need my attention, I start working on a list of all the things I need to do to turn this place into my dream. Closing while I renovate would make things easier, but I can’t do that without losing significant revenue. A little over a week into this endeavor and money is already tight. Between the large down payment, orders placed, materials needed for the renovation, and dwindling foot traffic—I suspect I’m going to have to make some cuts to my plans to make things work. It’s just a matter of what.
At the top of the to-do list is painting. This place needs to be stripped and completely repainted. I’m talking walls, banisters, and bookshelves, not to mention fixing the things that are broken, namely the staircase leading to the second floor. I’ve reached out to at least a dozen contractors, but most of them laughed at my budget for the project. Only one person said he could make it work, promising to get back to me with final numbers soon.
Who knew running a business would be so expensive?
Everyone. Literally everyone.
I’m adding a few more plans to my ever growing list of repairs when a throat clears in front of me. I look up and startle to find a man standing in front of me at the counter.
He’s cute. Really cute. Dirty blond hair that falls perfectly around his brows, giving him a boy next door vibe. He’s tall, has a solid frame, and is dressed impeccably. He’s exactly the kind of guy I’d go for normally.
Hazel eyes and strong broad shoulders flash through my mind’s eye.
Stop it. You are not thinking about him right now.
“Do you have a second to help me?” I banish thoughts of Hendrix to the far reaches of Long Island where they can’t find me without a minimum of four train transfers.
“Yeah, of course. What can I help you with?”
He scratches the back of his neck while looking sheepish. “My sister’s birthday is tonight, and I need a gift. She likes books, but uh…I don’t know what girls like to read.”
“Cutting it down to the wire, aren’t you?”
“Yeah a bit,” he chuckles, making a dimple pop on his right cheek.
“Tell me a bit about her. That way, I can get a feel for who she is and maybe pare down the selection.”
His eyes soften. “She’s a communications major at NYU, but she’s so goofy, just always game for a laugh. She and her girlfriend like to throw pottery on the weekends, and she loves to hate bad reality tv shows.” It’s obvious how much he adores her, and I’m hit with a rush of longing. I used to wish I had a sibling, someone to stand with me in solidarity against the world—a built-in best friend when things got bad. In hindsight, I guess it’s good I didn’t.
I take him over to our Pride section and show him a release from a few months ago about a sapphic influencer who starts her own web series and falls for the camera woman she hired.
“It’s hilarious and irreverent and painfully romantic. I think she’ll love it.” I walk him back towards the register around all the tables and boxes to ring him up.
“Thank you, I wouldn’t have known where to start.”
He pays for the book, and I place a complimentary bookmark inside the cover.
“Tell her to come by and let me know what she thinks after she finishes. We’re going to be starting some events here shortly, including a book club. In case she and her girlfriend want to join.” It’s a bit of an elevator pitch, and I hope it comes out natural, but I’ve got to get word out about these events somehow.
