Page 35 of Silver Linings
“It’s a sugar coma made of air.”
“What’s next? Are you going to say you don’t like puppies? This fake situationship we’re having in my head is never going to work if you don’t like donutsandpuppies.”
“I love puppies. I’m not a psychopath.” I’m pointedly going to ignore that she thinks about us in a fake romance scenario.
“That remains to be seen. I guess it makes sense you don’t like donuts. You do look likethat.” She gestures to my physique, and a small part of me—okay, a big part of me—preens at her attention.
I love how she says whatever thought comes to mind. Silver is completely uninhibited, and it’s so damn refreshing after years of everyone around me holding back everything they’re feeling.
“So, I gave Pat a down payment for the store and have worked out a monthly payment plan to pay off the remainder, specifically so that I can renovate the store. It’s a bit worse for wear.”
“How bad is it?” I’m genuinely curious and amazed that she jumped into something like this with no fear.
“It’s not great. The bookshelves are pretty dilapidated because they haven’t been updated since the eighties when Pat opened the place. The upstairs area has been totally out of commission since I started working there a decade ago. That, combined with new paint, updating our point of sale system, overhauling our inventory, and bringing our online presence into this century—I’m a bit overwhelmed.”
“What was the phone call about then?” I ask.
She takes a deep, steadying breath. “That was Phil, the contractor I hired to help me renovate the things I didn’t think I could DIY on my own, calling to tell me that the fifteen grand he quoted me originally was somehow miraculously going to cost fifty thousand dollars now.”
“Fucking hell.” I resist the urge to shout.
“I know it’s a bit of a job, but fifty grand seems like he’s trying to take advantage of me. So, I fired him.”
“Good girl.”
Oh, shit. I didnotmean to say that. God, I can actually feel the tips of my ears heating, and I’ve somehow stunned Silver into silence. I didn’t think it was possible, and thank God she takes mercy on me and chooses to ignore it, even though…yup, her eyes look a little glazed. Shit.
She clears her throat. “Right, so…I’m a little stressed about what to do. I guess I’ll be watching a lot of reno videos off YouTube.”
Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
“I’ll help you with the renovations.”
And there it is, the singular moment I can point to later on down the road and say,andthatwas when I lost my mind.
“What?” She’s blinking at me, clearly confused as well.
Fuck it all. If I’m going to offer, then I’m going to commit to it. Iwantto help her, and I’m not going to let a small thing like my inconvenient and unnecessary feelings get in the way.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a bit handy with my tools.” The second it’s out of my mouth, I realize how suggestive it sounded.
She smirks. “Oh, I’ve noticed.”
I level her with a glare. “What I mean is…before I moved back to New York, I worked at my family’s carpentry shop, building furniture, cabinets,bookshelves…custom work for homes and businesses. I’m kind of exactly what you need. For the bookstore,” I clarify quickly.
“You would you really help me?” A rare glimmer of vulnerability clouds her features.
“Yes,” I say, no reluctance in my tone. I have a strange feeling that she doesn’t ask for things often, and if I were to hesitate, she wouldn’t accept my help.
“But you don’t even like me.”
“I like you just fine.” Her eyes flare with soft light.
“I can’t pay you much, but Iwillpay you.” She seems adamant, so if it gets her to let me help, then I’ll acquiesce.
“We can figure that out later.” Maybe it will help keep the lines from blurring.
She looks at me with a slight skepticism but also a sliver of hope.
