Page 51 of The Holiday Grump
Noelle smiled. “I know that one! Fifteen dollars.”
She charged her, and we waited for her to leave, followed by two others. I walked through the store to confirm no more strangers were hiding between the shelves. Once I knew we were alone, I marched back to the counter, my chest about to burst.
“Okay, that’s enough. You’ve done enough.” I lunged at the door and flipped the sign on it to CLOSED. “Can we turn some of these off since we’re not open?” I gestured to the lights. “Do you have like a sleep setting?” I searched for a switch or a plug but found nothing.
Suddenly, the room went dark.
“Better?” Noelle asked from the far end of the room.
“Yeah,” I grumbled, then grabbed my jacket and left.
My heart pounded as I walked to my car. I sat inside, freezing, windows fogging, for a long time. I could havestarted the engine and warmed up, but I didn’t deserve comfort.
She’d done this amazing thing. She’d made more money for my business than I’d made in months. And I’d turned off her lights.
I sucked.
CHAPTER 17
Noelle
When the bell above the door stopped jingling and Fredrik’s dark shape disappeared through the window, I turned the lights back on. I had a feeling this would be the last time I saw the bookstore in its holiday glory, so I let myself enjoy it, even with my heart in tatters.
The room, once dark and dreary, now looked happy and inviting, as if it held treasures waiting to be discovered, rather than asthma attacks and tripping hazards. It was perfect. And all wrong.
I’d overstepped again, steamrolling past his boundaries without thinking. I could have just hung a few ornaments instead of tackling everything I thought was lacking. He had his reasons for keeping the store as it was. If he’d wanted a new doorbell, he would have installed one. If he’d wanted tosell more books, he would have ordered bestselling titles. I’d assumed too much, like the idiot I was.
If I hadn’t been living here, maybe I would’ve realized it sooner. But I’d already begun thinking of the bookstore as “home,” and that made me want to tweak things. On the ship, I’d arranged postcards around the mirror in a desperate attempt to personalize my space and make it a home.
But this isn’t your home. It’s his workplace.
I wondered how Fredrik lived. Did he own some dusty castle with servants carrying silver trays? His fondness for hideous shelves clearly wasn’t about money. If he could keep this store open without selling books, there had to be something else. Investments? Inheritance? Whatever the truth, he was the world’s most annoying puzzle, one I couldn’t stop trying to solve.
A knock rattled the glass, giving me a start. I peeked out the window and spotted one of my Christmas shop customers, wearing a red beret and a brisk smile, with an oversized tote on her shoulder. I cracked the door.
“Hi! I’m here to see the lights!”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “We closed early. The store’s not open for business.”
“Can I still peek?”
I hesitated, then gave in. “Alright. Just for a minute.”
She perused the shop, eyes wide. “This is something! Can I take photos? I’m Selah Brent, withThe Almanac. This could be front-page news.”
Before I could react, she had pulled out a camera and was clicking away.
“Oh no! You’ll need Fredrik’s permission,” I stammered.
She waved me off. “That’s fine. I’ll get his sign-off later.”
Perfect. I’d let Fredrik disappoint her. He was so good at it.
After she left, I locked the door and stared at the glowing room. The decision settled heavy in my chest. I had to take it all down. It didn’t matter how much I loved it. Fredrik didn’t, and this was his space.
Maybe I’d ask Selah for a photo, just for myself.
I took a deep breath, then took one last look before dismantling everything. I re-shelved the green books, wrestled the ugly brown bookshelf back into place, blocking the window, and dragged out the ladder to strip down the ceiling lights. My arms ached, and my mood sank. It felt like January. Like Christmas was over.
