Page 8 of The Bookworm Who Stole Christmas
Books have been my way of escaping for years, and to own an actual bookshop? Mind-blowingly amazing. The place was old and dusty when I first opened its doors. I didn’t know how long it had been closed for, but with a lick of paint, some dusting, and some serious ventilation, the place looked incredible.
For the first few weeks, the influx of customers was crazy. At one point, I thought I’d have to take on more staff, but I think it was more to do with who I was and why I had the late owner's shop, rather than the actual store. People kept asking question after question as they bought their books. As soon as they figured out they weren’t going to get what they wanted from me, they stopped asking.
Arty meows, wanting his evening cuddles. I smile, picking him up and putting him on my lap. “Christmasis coming, boy, and you know how much I hate it.” He purrs in response, rubbing his nose across my face and headbutting me for attention. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry I left you for so long,” I say, stroking him.
I sit for a minute more, enjoying listening to the soft noises he makes, before depositing him on the floor and tidying up. Arty must feel like he’s been deprived of me for too long since he trips me up yet again.
“This has got to stop, young man,” I admonish with a waggle of my finger, yet a smile curves at the corner of my lips. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
The little asshole just meows at me and walks off, tail in the air. I shake my head at his antics and carry on wiping down the counter.
After I’ve had a shower and gotten into clean pajamas, I climb into bed with my Kindle, desperate to read the latest book byRyen Santana. That author has a way of mind fucking you into oblivion, and I’m definitely in the mood for it.
Arty comes in and curls up on my lap. I snuggle under the duvet and open the book, getting lost in someone else’s world.
Chapter Six
MADDIE
The bell above the door rings, but I carry on with inventory. I can be a bit of an untrusting grump, and no one wants a Karen stalking them around the store, so I leave them to it. If they decide to buy something, I’ll meet them at the counter, and I always make sure I’m available if they have any questions, even if I do grumble about it.
I slide the newest arrivals onto the shelf as soft footsteps come closer. I leave the other books in their box and glance up. A teenager stands in front of me, offering a warm smile.
“Erm, hi?” I ask, confused.
I don’t know what to do around kids. I mean, I don’t even know how to act around adults, so kids are even worse. How do you talk to them? Can they understand me? I honestly don’t know.
“Hi,” she says, still smiling.
I fidget, scratching my head and shifting from foot to foot. “Can I help you?”
“Amelia.”
“Huh?”
She laughs before clarifying, “Amelia, my name’s Amelia.”
Oh.
I give an awkward wave. “Maddie.”
“Is this your shop?” she asks as she tilts her head, looking around.
Needing something to do and wanting to stop feeling so awkward, I pick up a book and add it to the bookcase, mumbling, “Yeah.”
“I love reading. It’s one of my favorite things to do,” she says. “Can I look around?”
“Yeah, just don’t touch anything.”
Amelia nods her head, her eyes lighting up before she heads off to the children’s section.
“And stay away from the back aisle, that’s for over eighteens only,” I shout to her retreating form.
She puts her hand in the air to let me know she heard me.
I’m fussing around with the books and lining them up when I hear, “Why don’t you have any Christmas books?” hollered across the shop.
“Because I hate Christmas,” I call back.
