Page 30 of Under Daddy's Spell

“I didn’t ask him because it was a perfect seventy-two degrees on his side. Besides, he already dropped it from seventy-six, and it has only gotten hotter.”

Angie leaned on the bar and strained to see the big plastic thermometer on the wall near the register. “But it’s eighty-three in here!”

A degree higher than when she’d left! Dear heavens, it kept climbing.

Suddenly drained from dealing with the unrelenting heat and humidity all week, not to mention Seth and Jordan, Tessa reached for the glass of ice water Angie had set on the counter and chugged half of it. When a droplet of condensation dripped onto her chest and trickled between her breasts, it felt so good that she came close to pouring the rest over her head.

“You wouldn’t believe it, Ang. I went over there red-faced and frizzy, with my blouse clinging to my sweaty back, while Mr. Olympia looked as cool as a cucumber. He claims it must be a problem on our end.”

“We never had a problem with the previous owners.”

“I mentioned that, too. He helpfully suggested I get someone to check out the system. Like I haven’t called Thompson multiple times a day all this week.”

“So, what now? I can’t bake in this heat, and I strongly doubt people will go out of their way to buy coffee in a sauna.”

“I guess I’ll call a repairman directly and spend money I don’t have.”

“That’s not fair. It’s Thompson’s antiquated system; he should pay for it.”

“So said Mr. Cooper. I can’t wait until Thompson gets around to calling, Ang. Unless he dished out money on a costly maintenance plan, he’d have to schedule someone to come out, too. In the meantime, we don’t sell coffee, no one comes in for books, and I can’t pay all my other bills or meet payroll.”

Angie paled at hearing the seriousness of the situation. “If things are tight already, will you be able to cover the cost?”

“Ordinarily, I’d tap into my rainy-day fund for a repair bill. It would be no problem if I didn’t have inventory to pay for, rent due, and an invoice on my desk for the $5000 espresso machine you’re standing in front of.”

She didn’t mention the installment loan for the improvements she’d made when she moved in. Thinking of how money was flying out her door a lot faster than it was coming in, Tessa started pacing again.

“Why don’t you ask Jordan to talk to Thompson, you know, man-to-man?”

“No!”

The vehemence of her reply made Angie frown. “Why not? The guy is sixty-two, and I doubt if he tops one-fifty soaking wet. He won’t go head-to-head with Jordan.”

“I have my reasons.”

“It’s because he called you sweet cheeks, isn’t it?”

Her friend didn’t know how close she was to being right.

Having reached the barrier at the end of the counter, she whirled and headed the other way. “This is my store, and I won’t be beholden to that big—” She caught herself before saying the J word. “I’ll figure this out. Don’t worry,” she said for the second time that day.

Who was she trying to reassure so badly, Angie or herself?

“Damn, it’s hot in here,” Angie muttered as she grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the beads of perspiration on her forehead and upper lip. “Permission to wear my bikini tomorrow?”

“Denied,” Tessa exclaimed after eyeing her employee’s 36DD chest, narrow waist, and long legs. “I can see the headlines now—Desperate Bookstore Owner Employs Bikini Barista. The place would be packed with the wrong crowd. Your bodacious tatas would attract Jordan’s meatheads from next door, not the yuppies, moms coming in for a chat over coffee with friends, and undiscovered authors working on their first bestseller who I’ve spent four years trying to cater to.”

Her friend chuckled as she repeated, “Bodacious tatas. That’s a new one.”

Tessa stopped pacing when the bell over the front door jingled. Three women came in and headed directly for the coffee counter. She smiled in greeting and thanked them for coming in before returning to her register counter, where she’d been unpacking a box of new books. She had no sooner cut through the packing tape with her utility knife when Iron Maiden’s “Aces High” began blaring through the wall.

She wanted to cry when she heard all three women ask for their orders to go. An instant after they scurried out the door, perfectly made-up faces glistening with perspiration, Tessa pulled up a list of repair services on her phone and called six.

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