Page 5 of One Summer Weekend
“Maybe I should be a total bitch so they won’t like me. A couple weeks after the wedding you can be all mopey at work and tell them we broke up. They’ll be thrilled.”
“One, you can’t be a total bitch because I’ve been saying nice things about you for months and they’ll start questioning my judgment. Two, if you were that much of a bitch, I wouldn’t be all mopey at work. And most importantly, three, they’ll be thrilled because then Emily can hook me up with Sara.”
“You can’t fake date me forever, Noah.”
“Hey, when it comes to fake commitments, I amallin.”
Carly walked past the long row of storefronts set into the historical brick buildings and, as she did every morning, stopped in front of the bright splash of color that was Cedar Street Books.
They’d paid a fortune for the book-themed stained glass set into the wooden door, which they’d had to fight the town for permission to paint a bright blue. Zoe had done an amazing job with the beach reads window display this month—though the sand was going to be a bitch to clean up—and it all caught the tourists’ eyes and got them in the door.
When she and her cousin had finally realized their dream of opening the bookstore together, they’d spent weeks trying to come up with a name. The best were already being used elsewhere in New Hampshire and they’d discarded all the cutesy puns they’d brainstormed. Finally, they’d settled on a name that was simple, classy and told the tourists where to find them.
They were on Cedar Street.
She used her key to let herself in and locked the door behind her since they didn’t open for twenty more minutes. Zoe was already there, as usual. She lived in the apartment above the store, while Carly had a five-minute commute from the outskirts of town. Since their grandparents owned the building, the rents for the store and Zoe’s place were more than fair for prime space near the lake.
“Good morning,” Carly called and got a response from the local history section.
After pouring herself a coffee, she walked to the counter and moved the books Zoe had put in her mug’s spot so she could set it down. Then she hit the button to power on the computer and waited. And waited. “This computer is dying.”
Zoe appeared, a book in her hand. “Maybe next year.”
“I should bring in my laptop.”
“Nope. You know the rules. The store is the store and everything’s totally halfsies.”
Carly grumbled about being able to use her own damn laptop in her own damn store, but she appreciated the rule. They’d pinky sworn on it the day they’d decided to apply for the loan because doing business together could—and often did—ruin relationships. One giving more than the other would lead to resentment and arguments that, while they’d always be cousins, could sink their close friendship.
Carly had grown up there, but Zoe’s parents had moved away and she’d only come in the summer to stay with their grandparents in their cottage on the lake. The two of them could always be found in or under a tree, reading books, talking about books and—one time—even cowriting a book. That had been a disaster. But they were always reading, until Noah would find them and talk them into swimming or riding their bikes into town for ice cream. But as they hugged goodbye at the end of every summer, Zoe would tearfully promise that someday she’d be old enough so she could stay and they would open a bookstore.
They grew up. Carly worked for an insurance company. Zoe got married and stopped visiting during the summer. Then she’d shown up one day with a car full of boxes, a divorce decree, and a determination that it was time for them to make their dream come true. It was a terrifying leap, but they’d held hands and jumped together.
It was the best thing either of them had ever done. They worked well together. And speaking of working together, she needed to talk to her cousin aboutnotworking together.
“Hey Zoe, is there any bribe I can offer that will get me the weekend after next off? I know that would leave you working alone in peak busy time, but I got invited to a wedding on the Cape.”
Zoe’s head popped out from behind the shelf. “Nobody does a spur of the moment wedding on Cape Cod. Did they have a last-minute cancellation and you were on the backup list because if that’s the case, you should decline and send them a set of really ugly water glasses.”
“No, the actual invite wasn’t spur of the moment. Noah asked me to be his last-minute plus-one.”
“Who’s getting married?”
“His boss, so it’s kind of a big deal to him.”
“I’ll do it, but you owe me one. And so does Noah.”
Abandoning the computer for the moment—or knowing the temperamental machine, for afewmoments—Carly stood and went over to take a few of the paperbacks Zoe was shelving. “Let me do some.”
“This one goes in my section.” Zoe held out a paperback but when Carly tried to take it, she tightened her grip and held on to it for a few extra seconds. “You might want to read it first, though. It’s a good one.”
“I’ll take it with me, just in case I can sneak some reading time.”
In a small town like theirs, a bookstore having a section called “the books with the really good sex scenes in them” wouldn’t go over very well. And whether they were simply shy about it or were shopping with their little ones in tow, a lot of women were reluctant to ask about the steamier romances. Since those were Zoe’s favorite reads and she loved to hand sell books, they’d given her a small section of her own in the store.
And the store’s regular customers all knew that any book shelved under theRecommended by Zoesign would not only be a very good read, but a scorcher, as well.
“You might not want to read that one while the only guy you’re sharing a bed with is Noah.”
