Page 7 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
“You’re the best assistant in my whole office.”
“Which is easy since I’m so lonely there.” Sonya had been angling for Max to expand the business and hire other mediators, which was something she was honestly considering, given the demand.
“I’m bringing donuts in the morning, and they’ll be your twelve new friends.”
She could almost hear Sonya softening through the phone. “That would help with the Sanderson drama.”
“Thought so. See you in the trenches.”
“Over and out.”
TWO
Read It and Weep
Everly Springs, Virginia, was much smaller than Ella had envisioned. She’d spent the last two days getting to know the small city that seemed to favor local businesses. The town had a charm that snuck up on her, comprised of porch swings, friendly hellos from strangers, and the kind of storefronts that felt more personal than supremely polished.
On her third morning, with nowhere to be, she let her feet lead her through the town’s main drag until a familiar word in loopy, hand-painted letters caught her eye.Books. A bookstore? She paused immediately, her heart fluttering with happiness at the find.
The storefront itself was narrow and sandwiched between a boutique pet store and a barbershop that looked like it hadn’t changed in fifty years. The bookstore’s large front window displayed an arrangement of books propped on wooden crates, framed by twinkle lights and a curtain of ivy creeping down from the awning above. The paint on the door, deep green with a brass handle, was chipped in a way that felt earned rather than neglected. Above it all hung a hand-painted sign with swooping white script:Doug’s Books. Ella already loved the store’s vibe.It looked like the kind of place that had been there forever, and that no one would dare suggest changing.
Intrigued, she pushed open the door and stepped into a store that looked like it had been designed by someone who loved books just a little too much. The interior followed up on that concept, delivering a small space crammed with more bookshelves than should have been legal.
In fact, was it? She scanned the overrun shelves, actually a little in love with the variety of covers all shoved together in haphazard rows like some eccentric wizard had arranged them. There was beauty in the chaos, the mismatched covers of all shapes and sizes lined up like soldiers beneath small signs that indicated mystery, science fiction, or romance.
“Can I help you find a particular story?”
Ella turned to see a thin, partially balding man, with glasses sliding down his nose, regarding her. He seemed incredibly bookish, which she appreciated. Very on-brand. Interestingly, he wore a white apron, as if he worked in a bakery. There were no pastries in sight, however. His phrasing of the question had also been unique. He hadn’t asked to help her find a particularbook. He’d saidstory.
“No, thank you. Just getting a feel for the store. You have so many books in here. Well done.”
“Well, I amDoug,” he said, pointing at the sign on the wall as if it should explain everything. “I like books.” A pause. “That’s why I’ve named the store Doug’s Books.”
“Right. And that holds up.” She nodded, and they stared at each other for a beat past comfortable.
“And we have coffee.” Doug blinked but didn’t move a muscle. “Yonder.”
“Yonder?” People apparently said that in Everly Springs. She’d make note.
“Yes. That’s what I said.”
“That’s fantastic, and probably why you’re wearing the apron. It’s all coming together now.” She added a laugh, imagining he’d join her. He did not.
“No.” A pause. “I own the store, so I wear the apron. But only when I’m working. That’s probably assumed.”
Again, sensible. She couldn’t argue. “Well, I’m Ella. New to town, and since I’m here, I’d like to give you my card, just in case you’d ever like to do any advertising or event planning that might require a graphic artist. That’s what I do. Graphic art.”
His eyes lit up for the first time since she’d entered the shop. “Yes! I host book signings and could use help with the flyers. I hate flyers so much. Do you do flyers, by chance?” He took a dedicated step forward.
“At this juncture in my life, Doug, I will do anything for a dollar.”
He leaned in. “Oh, don’t say that to too many people.”
She laughed at the horrified expression on his face and knew, without a doubt, that she was going to need a lot more Doug in her life. “Good call. I’ll refrain.”
Then all of a sudden, he straightened as if a fantastic idea had just arrived with a suitcase. “And you really should pin one of those cards to the bulletin board on the back wall, above the little coffee nook. Serve yourself, by the way, and put a dollar in the jar. We’re on the honor system around here.”
“Oh, will do, Doug.” She liked using his name.
