Page 19 of Winter Nights at the Bay Bookshop
Lars closed his book with a sigh. ‘We’re not friends, Lily.’
‘I know we don’t know each other very well, but we both love books and I thought?—’
‘We’renotfriends,’ he repeated with emphasis. ‘The only friends I need are between the pages of books. Leave me alone.’
And he walked away without looking back. I sank against the wall, clutching my bookto my chest, tears pooling in my eyes before they broke free and tracked down my cheeks. What was wrong with me? Why did nobody want to be my friend? Jordan had ditched me because of my love of books but if somebody with that shared passion didn’t even want to be friends with me, what hope was there?
‘He might have changed,’ Cassie suggested, pulling me back to the present day. ‘School was a long time ago.’
‘I’d like to think he has, but…’ I closed my eyes tightly and released a frustrated squeal, that painfully familiar feeling of rejection stabbing at me.
‘It was his loss and my gain.’ Cassie stroked my arm. ‘School-day traumas aside, at least you know he hasn’t lied on his CV about his passion for books.’
The number of applicants we’d had over the years who pretended to love books never ceased to amaze me. I opened my eyes and looked at the computer screen once more. On paper, Lars was the perfect candidate. He was volunteering at one of the village libraries, had customer service experience from running his own business and was clearly organised. His technical skills were through the roof so he’d have no problems learning our system and, while being completely over-qualified for the role, he’d explained that it would be the perfect length contract for him while he decided on his next career move.
‘Do you have many other choices?’ Cassie asked.
‘Nobody nearly as strong. But he’s over-qualified. He’s run his own business for seventeen years. What if he tries to take over and tell me how to run mine?’
‘I doubt he’d do that and, if he did, you’re the boss and you’d find the words to put him back in his box. You could always discuss it at the interview – nip it in the bud straightaway.’
I rested my elbows on the desk and sank my head into my hands. ‘What if he’s awful to me again?’
‘Then he doesn’t get the job and you never have to cross paths with him again,’ Cassie said, gently. ‘But if you don’t interview him, I think you’re cutting off your nose to spite your face. He’s a strong candidate and you know it.’
I raised my head. ‘You’re right.’
‘And if you think working with him might be bearable and you offer him the job and then discover he’s still the twerp he was at school, you sack him off. Failed probation. Gone. Easy peasy.’
‘Lemon squeezy.’
‘Gherkin scones will make you queasy.’
‘Where on earth did that come from?’ I asked, smiling at her.
‘No idea, but it restored your smile so my work here is done. Now do some work,Little Miss Perfect.’ She winked at me and I shook my head at her.
‘If he calls me that again, it’s game over.’
‘I dunno. Could finally be your chance to find out what he meant by it.’
‘After all these years, I’m not convinced I want to find out.’
‘You do. Because it’s been bugging you for over two decades. If you do take him on, I guarantee you’ll ask him to explain himself one day.’
I smiled again. ‘I probably will and it had better be a damn good explanation.’
While Cassie restocked the cookery books upstairs, my thoughts drifted back to that first day at school. When break ended, I’d returned to our classroom with a heavy heart, trying not to let my imagination drift into five lonely years ahead of me.
I looked up, astonished, as a pretty girl with long blonde hair slipped into the seat beside me and smiled. ‘We’ve moved house and I don’t know anyone at this school, but I’ve decided you and I are going to be friends.’
It was such a contrast to the confrontation with Lars that I couldn’t help feeling suspicious. Was this a wind-up?
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘Which would you rather be if you had the choice – divinely beautiful or dazzlingly clever or angelically good?’
My heart leapt as I recognised the quote and she opened up her bag, revealing a dog-eared copy ofAnne of Avonlea–the second book in the series.
