Page 33 of Tattered Edges

“You’re right,” I mumbled, lowering my phone as I glanced around me. “This would be much better if you took it.”

“Pardon?”

I looked up to find Victoria eyeing me in confusion. She was bundled up, her cheeks rosy after her trek from the Underground in the cold.

“I’ve decided we’re starting an Instagram page. Facebook, too, because I can connect them, and it’ll really only feel like I’m managing one platform rather than two. If I get extra wild, maybe I’ll even start a TikTok, but I hate the idea of spending time editing a bunch of videos, so we’ll start with Instagram and see what traction we can get.”

“My, oh, my. You’re certainly firing on all cylinders this morning, aren’t you?”

I shrugged. “I’ve been here over a week, and I’m beginning to understand a few things. We’re located in a great part of town. We’re right next door to a pub that draws a ton of attention, just down the street from an iconic tourist destination, and yet the business makes only enough to get by. This place is beautiful and magical, and it should be buzzing with activity, but it’s mostly you and me dusting shelves. So, we’re making some changes.”

Victoria smiled. “Starting with an Instagram account? And somehow this involves you on the floor with a bunch of books scattered about?”

I narrowed my eyes at her playfully. “Tell me, do you have Instagram?”

“Oh, heavens, no. I abhor social media,” she insisted with a shake of her head.

“Yeah. I don’t blame you,” I responded with another shrug. “In this case, I think it’s a necessary evil. Anyway, I’ve spent the last few days doing a bit of research and taking notes of accounts that are particularly eye catching, and I’m confident we can create something similar. But, yes, it involves me exploiting myself a bit.” Grinning, I added, “You too, if you’re up for it.”

She laughed. “Of the two of us,you’rethe one with the looks worth exploiting.”

“Nonsense! With your purple hair and retro style, you make nerdy lookexceptionallycool.”

Still laughing, she shook her head and started to make her way around me. “Right. Well, you’re the boss. While I’m not sure my face is a draw, I do think you’re onto something. I’ll follow your lead. Just let me shed a couple layers. Be right back.”

We spent half the morning playing around, snapping photos—some of the shop, some of us, all with the books that would be the ultimate draw. We ended up with quite a few good ones I added to a new album on my phone, so I could post them over the next couple of weeks. When we were finished with the photos, I ran up to the flat to exchange my forgotten coffee for my laptop, and I camped out behind the register and got to work on our profiles.

“Hey, Victoria!” I called up to the second floor, the shop as quiet as ever.

“Hmm?” She came to the banister and bent over the railing until she saw me.

“I’m thinking of adding some favorite book quotes to a few of our posts. If any spring to mind, or you spot a book or two you love up there, let me know.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m on it.”

“See? This is kind of fun, right?”

With a smirk, she conceded, “Truth be told, it is.”

By lunch time, I was happy with my progress. Our business Facebook and Instagram accounts had been created. I’d linked them and scheduled a number of posts for the next couple of days. Using our best selfie and a shot of the storefront, I created an introductory post and made it into an ad I hoped would draw a few followers online and feet through the front door. When I finally closed my laptop, I felt quite accomplished.

“Finally out from behind your computer?” asked Victoria as I got up to stretch my legs.

“Yeah. I think I’m done with that for today.”

“And are there any other ideas floating about in that head of yours?”

“Actually—there is one I think we should discuss.” I stopped by a table stacked with first edition hardcovers and traced my finger around the edge of one. “I understand the whole point behind Tattered Edges is that it’s a shop stocked full of old, well-loved books. But—and you can call me crazy—I think we should have a small section of new releases.”

“Oh.” I studied her face as she processed what I’d said. I could tell by her hesitation she wasn’t completely sold on the idea.

“You’ve been here the longest, obviously, and you knew Sawyer Blackstone. Maybe he wouldn’t have ever dreamed of doing such a thing. I’m not proposing we disrupt the character of the store, but—”

“No, I know,” she sighed and lowered herself down onto a nearby sofa. “You’re right. You’re trying to drum up business. Your enthusiasm is quite refreshing, and I do admire it. We need it. But change is not always easy.”

“Tell you what,” I clasped my hands together in front of my chest as a sign of my sincerity. “I promise we’ll implement new ideas in baby steps. If along the way you think any changes made are more of a money grab than an attempt to put some life into this place, we’ll discuss it. I’m not trying to be the next best thing—but I want this place to survive. It’s obvious its been kept afloat on account of Sawyer’s financial tie to the publishing house; but that’s not something we can stand on. Especially given I’m sure the Blackstones are waiting for me to fail.”

“When you put it that way, I feel inclined to start rearranging the shelves now to make room for those new releases you were talking about.”

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