Page 5 of More Than Words
Delaney
The bell above the shop door jingled, but I barely heard it over the buzz saw whining next door.
I closed my laptop and pinched the bridge of my nose.There went my plan to update the Plot Twist newsletter in peace.I couldn’t even think, let alone concentrate, with all the noise next door.
It had been three days since I went to introduce myself to Ethan and hopefully strike some sort of deal about keeping the level of noise down.
Not that it had worked.
Sure, he’d taken a break during the mystery book club meeting, and when I asked whether he could keep it down for the mom-and-tot’s story hour the day after, he’d refrained from using his saw.But the hammering still came through loud and clear.Most of the kids had been more interested in the sounds next door than they had in the hungry caterpillar looking for his next meal.
“At this point, I should be handing out hard hats with every new book purchase,” I grumbled.
“Okay,” a familiar voice said.“But I’m not sure it’ll go with my outfit.”
I looked up to see my friend Lauren Westfield.She was dressed casually in a flowing skirt and tight tank top with an oversized knitted sweater completing the look.She gave me a sympathetic smile and handed me a little paper bag.
“Here.This might help.”
I peeked inside to see a baggie of dried herbs and a sleek, cobalt-blue roller bottle.
I lifted my head and raised a brow in question.
“Calming tea,” Lauren said with a laugh.“I made the blend myself.And the bottle is a special mix of essential oils.It should help with focus and tension relief.Roll it on your temples, take a few deep breaths, and trynotto imagine taking the hammer and throwing it through the wall.”
I offered her a weak smile and reached for the roller bottle.“It’s worth a try.But no promises.”
Lauren wandered over to the front table, trailing her fingers along the new arrivals I’d displayed.“Any luck with Mr.Sawdust next door?”
I groaned and rolled the little bottle over my temples.An aromatic blend of lavender and peppermint filled my senses.“He said he’d try to work around events, but there’s been nonstop hammering.I know he has a schedule, too.I really do.But…” I inhaled deeply and reapplied the roller.“Story hour yesterday was basically a dramatic reading ofThe Very Loud Construction Site.”
Lauren snorted.“That might actually sell better than the original around here.”
“Don’t give him any ideas.”
My new friend turned back toward me, resting her hip against the checkout counter.“Ethan’s not a bad guy, you know.All of the Lyons are pretty decent.I’m sure if you talk to him about it a bit more, he’ll work with you.Eventually.”
“Eventually isn’t going to work for my book clubs and toddler groups,” I muttered, rolling the bottle across the inside of my wrist.“Those groups are a huge part of my business, and if I can’t provide a quiet and relaxing place to meet…well… I can’t think about what will happen.”
Lauren offered me a sympathetic smile.“I’m sure all this noise is temporary,” she said.“Once the construction phase is over, things will settle down.Brody was telling me that Ethan has a pretty tight timeline to get things ready for his grand opening.”
“Brody, huh?”Temporarily distracted, I wiggled my eyebrows.I’d only known Lauren a few months, but our friendship had formed quickly.As far as I knew, she wasn’t dating anyone, but she did seem to spend a lot of time with Brody Lyons, who I now knew was Ethan’s oldest brother and owner of Peak to Path, an outdoors shop at the other end of the plaza.They didn’t appear to be dating, but there was definitely something between the two of them.
“He was helping Ethan out the other night with some painting,” she said smoothly, either ignoring my implied question or missing it altogether.“And speaking of Brody, I have to run.He’s supposed to stop by and take a look at a crooked shelf.If I’m not there, he’ll start reorganizing my tea by mood.”
“Mood?”
She shrugged.“Either that or by the color of the box.”
“That’s…weirdly charming.”
“It’s definitely weird.”She laughed and added, “Try the tea.”She glanced at the roller ball in my hand that I hadn’t stopped applying.“And if you need a refill of the oils, stop in anytime and I’ll hook you up.”
I thanked her as she slipped out the door, the bells jingling in her wake, and for one, miraculously blissful second, the shop was quiet.
And then the door opened again.
“Hey, bookstore lady.”
