Page 36 of Quintessentially

Chloe’s eyebrows dance.

“Since he had recently showered—his hair was damp—and was only wearing nylon shorts, I got a good look.” I place my coffee on the counter. “I mean, why do the gods hate me? A beer belly or something, but damn, he’s even more buff than the last time…”

“And you two made up with makeup sex and now the world is right?”

“No, that’s not happening. I left after discovering that over two thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise is missing.” I shake my head again. “Once I tell Mr. Murphy, I don’t blame Dax for refusing to sell the store to me.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Pay back the vendors and the store and spend the rest of my life at my parents’ house.”

“Where is my best friend?” she asks. “You’ll know her by hernothing can stop meandsuperwomanattitude.”

“She went swimming in a bottle of wine and has a massive headache because as her mother would put it, she has one hell of a life. Meaning, I’m fucked and not in the good way.”

The buzzer on my phone tells me that it’s time to unlock the front door. There is already a line of people on the sidewalk waiting to enter when I flip the sign. I turn back to Chloe. “Thank you for being here.”

“I’ve got you.”

The next six hours are nonstop. Earlier I’d sent a text to Joyce who brought Chloe and me sandwiches. They’re both sitting in the small refrigerator in the office because neither of us has had time for so much as a bathroom break. It’s completely insane how busy we are.

My inventory evaluation last night is going to be way off. Throughout the day, we’ve restocked some of the shelves three times, and it’s only three in the afternoon.

I start to think about adding online sales. My imagination is working overtime with figures and the idea of renting some storage space when the reality hits: Quintessential Treasures won’t be mine.

“Kandace,” Mrs. Gordon says, laying her hand on my arm. “Are you not well?”

I feign a grin. “I’m good.”

“Well, where is that beautiful smile?”

One could think that Mrs. Gordon is rude, but since I’ve known her all my life—her husband owns the farm where… And she’s near Ruth’s age, I take her words to be concern.

“I think I’m tired.”

She nods. “God made Sundays for rest.”

“I’m ready,” I say, though I know that instead of rest, I’ll be updating the inventory and profit-and-loss reports.

Finally, at ten after five the last customer leaves. Locking the front door, I exhale and lean against it. “Whoever owns this place needs to hire help.”

Chloe steps into the store from the backroom. “Where did this stuff come from?”

“What stuff?”

Following her, I enter the back room and see two tall stacks of rubber totes. My pulse races as I peel off one of the lids. “This is the merchandise.”

Pulling a holiday quilt from the container, I have tears in my eyes. “These sell for a hundred and fifty a piece.” I hold the thick blanket to my chest and grin. “They aren’t gone.”

Chloe opens a second tote. “This one is filled with glass ornaments.”

We keep searching. It’s the tote with the hand-knitted items that does me in. “Oh, I didn’t lose these.” I look at my best friend. “It had to be him.”

“Dax?” She lets out a sigh. “I didn’t see anyone even go back here, much less carry these through the store.”

“We were so busy.” I look around from where I’m sitting on the floor and spot the boxes, I’d opened last night. “And over there are the boxes. I’ll have to count, but I think it’s all here.”

Chloe reaches for my hand and pulls me to standing. “Not tonight, Kandace. You’re either going home and after Molly is asleep, taking a long bath, or you’re coming home with me and working on the third hangover. You’ve worked hard enough.”

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