Page 25 of The Library of Second Chances
“You don’t mean the kind with a tape—” He was joking because she’d called it an answering machine instead of voice mail, but midway through his sentence he spotted something that look suspiciously like an answering machine straight out of the 1990s next to the phone. “Seriously?” He reached acrossthe counter to pick up the antiquated device. “This thing still works?”
“Yes, it works perfectly.”
He chuckled. “And what are you doing there? Do you keep track of your sales by hand too?”
“Yes, it’s called tracking my inventory.”
It was as if he’d stumbled into a time warp. “You have a computer.” He motioned toward the monitor on the counter next to her. “I know they make software specifically for bookstores to track their inventory.”
“I’m sure they do, but this way works for me.” She shrugged. “This shop was here for a long time before computers ever existed, and we’ve always managed just fine.”
“What do you use the computer for then?” He was genuinely curious. He’d never met someone her age—he’d pegged her to be in her early thirties—who was so opposed to modern technology.
“It runs the register. I check my email and place my new orders. Sometimes I use it to help a customer find a book.”
“From bookstores who actually have their inventory online for people to purchase?” He kept his tone light so she’d know he was jokingly pointing out that she’d made his point for him.
She scowled at him. “Is there a reason you’re here?”
“Mayor Jenkins said he told you about the community forums. I thought we should compare calendars and find some dates that work for both of us.” He pulled out his smart phone so he could access his calendar. “Wait. Let me guess. You’ve got one of those fancy notebook planners in your purse where you write your appointments by hand next to a quote of the day.”
She had her purse halfway up to the counter from where she’d been storing it underneath when she shoved it back in its hiding place. She folded her arms against her chest, her mouth a thin line.
“I can make myself available. Just tell me when you want to hold them.”
“You do!” He was smiling now as he leaned over the counter, trying to peek underneath. “You have one of those planners, don’t you? Let me see.”
“Off my counter, please.” The corners of her mouth were turning slightly, just enough that he knew she was trying her best not to smile. She pointed to the phone still in his hand. “Tap away on your little device there and just tell me some dates. We should hold them at night when most people are off work and can attend, and maybe at least one on a weekend for people who can’t get away during the week.”
As he was looking through the town calendar on his phone to make sure they wouldn’t conflict with other meetings, something rubbed against his leg, and he jumped.
Lucy giggled as she leaned over the counter. “Don’t worry, that’s just Lizzy. She doesn’t bite.” She paused. “At least not people she likes. I haven’t told her about you yet, so you should be safe.”
He reached down to pet the cat, her sleek gray fur reminding him of a seal. She had a little bit of white on her nose, down her chest, and on her feet, and she purred almost immediately when he began stroking her back.
“She’s yours?”
“More or less. I adopted her, but she really belongs to the store.”
“A guard cat?” He smiled up at her.
“Sort of. Only she guards against mice, not burglars. Lots of bookstores used to have cats to keep away pests. Plus, the kids love them.”
“Them? There’s more than one?”
Lizzy rubbed her head against his hand as she walked back and forth in front of where he now kneeled.
“There’s one more, but she’s a little shyer than this one. Lizzy likes anyone who will pet her. She’s not all that discerning.”
He knew it was a jab at him, but her voice had been light when she said it. The cat seemed to notice Lucy’s voice and leaped up to the counter, nuzzling into her hand as she held it out.
He watched her hand gently caressing the cat, its back arching in pleasure. He caught himself thinking about what her fingers would feel like on his skin and forced himself to look back down at his phone.
“What about next Wednesday for the first one?” His voice came out husky and he cleared his throat. “That gives us a week.”
“Sure.” She shooed the cat off the counter and grabbed a sticky note to write on as he proposed a few other dates over the coming weeks. “These should work. I’ll get the word out on my end. I’m sure you can have someone at the city put out an official announcement.”
“You’re not going to use a phone tree, are you?” He couldn’t help teasing her. It was just too easy.
