When she finally wraps up a spiel about Danish Bornholm clocks and my eyes are glazed over, I point at the fluffy Pomeranian scuttling around her short heels.
“We just got a new brand of organic dog food in this week,” I offer hopefully. We make good markups on the fancier brands.
Mrs. Horne’s nose scrunches. “Oh heavens, no. Minnie only eats home-cooked organ meats. But I will have some water for her, please. She’s thirsty after our morning stroll, aren’t you, cherub?” She reaches down to pet her dog on the head while I suck in a breath and slip off the stool.
Glad I can be of service. Anyone else need anything while you’re browsing in here without spending a dime? A foot massage, perhaps? Want me to go fill up your gas tank or do your taxes?
I tell myself to stop being a bitch and pour some water into a bowl in the kitchenette before sliding it beneath Minnie’s lapping tongue. After Mrs. Horne heads back outside clutching only her rehydrated pooch, I slink back onto the stool and sigh at my phone.
I really need to restock the shelves in aisle three, but that cute paramedic got my attention. As I scan his profile, my chest sinks. Damn.He lives in DC. I barely have time to shower these days, let alone drive three hours for a coffee. But I’ve had to widen my search lately because the dating pool in Still Springs is way too shallow. I’ve been on exactly two dates in the past year—one with the guy from the gas station who called his mom halfway through dinner to tell her how well it was going. The other was with a guy I went to middle school with. When I told him I still work at my family’s store, he said: “I’m usually attracted to girls with more ambition and drive, but you’re so pretty that I’m still holding out for that kiss.”On a cold day in hell, dickwad.
The only half-decent option left in town has messaged me a few times since he found me on the dating app—Officer Nate Williams, our town’s deputy sheriff. To me, though, he’ll always be Nate the Nark, a nickname he earned in high school after he got our basketball team’s entire starting line-up suspended for attending a keg party. He’s still a straight-laced, socially awkward wallflower, but there’s no denying that his police uniform is kinda hot. The fact that he lives around the corner is another tick in the plus column, but after what happened with my sister a few months ago, I have to be careful about dating a local in this gossip-riddled town. The Quinn Brothers store that’s been in my family for three generations is already gasping its last breaths—one more family scandal and we’ll be done for.
Since the merger we’d planned with the old Harringtons restaurant next door fell through, Dad’s having to come into the store every other day instead of retiring. Even worse—he’s started talking about selling. Every time he says those words, my eyes sting, and I have to push away a throbbing urge to call Ruby.
Apart from Dad, my sister is the only person who understands how much this store means to me. She and I basically grew up within these concrete walls. One of my earliest memories is balancing on Mom’s knee while she taught me how to operate the cash register, and she'd always be sitting here waiting for Ruby and me to arrive each day after school.
In second grade, when I was asked to draw what I wanted to be when I grew up, I drew myself running the store. Mom pinned it to the fridge, and that dream of mine never changed—all I’ve ever wanted was to inherit the store one day and be my own boss. But lately, Quinn Brothers has been hemorrhaging money as more and more locals shop at the larger, cheaper Kings superstore outside town.
I just need to stay focused and put everything I learned in college into practice.You got this, Jade. You against the world. Screw the haters.
The bell rings as two middle-aged women step through the door in wide-brimmed hats and khaki shorts. Definitely tourists.
“Can I help you with anything?” I offer with a smile.
“No, we’re just browsing,” one mutters, eyeballing the display of organic soaps artfully arranged in reused wooden crates. Each time she picks one up and sniffs it, only to put it right back, my heart sinks a little more. When they head back outside empty-handed, I heave a sigh.
Should I swap out the display?
Maybe our prices are the problem. I should swing by and see how much Kings is charging. I don’t know how they always seem to get it right, but that whole family walks on water. Hayley King has been my best friend since the third grade, and I love her to bits, but she’s the definition of living a charmed life. She left for a fancy college right after graduation and now works in New York City as an art gallery assistant because she adores art rather than needing the money. When we were kids, she was the first of our friends to get her own cell phone. And the day she turned sixteen, she woke up to a sports car sitting in her driveway with a gigantic red bow wrapped around it.
I tell myself for the thousandth time to stop trying to compete with the Kings. If I had gobs of money to throw at everything, this store would be a cash cow too.
With a fortifying inhale, I decide to hunt through my Pinterest boards for cool window display ideas with zero budget. When I go to shut down my dating app, I spot a new message from Nate.
@OfficerNateWilliams
Hi Jade, I hope you’re having a fantastic day
I don’t know if you heard, but there’s an Italian food fair coming to town next weekend
If you’re free, I’d love to take you there for dinner
Best regards, Nate
Best regards?
I reread the message. Thinking about woodfired pizza and lemon gelato makes my stomach growl in protest like it hasn’t had a decent meal in months. Funny how that works when it actually hasn’t.
I swipe up to Nate’s profile pic—a snap of him leaning against his police cruiser with his arms crossed. His dark red hair is neatly combed to the side, just like in high school, and he still gives off such a straight-ass vibe that he’d probably be as suited to the priesthood as he is to law enforcement. But what the heck. Maybe a bit of social company is what I need to get my head out of this store mess for a few hours.
Stop overthinking it. And you need lemon gelato to live.
@Just_Jade
Howdy, Nate
Fantastic would be a strong choice of word, but have had worse
