She didn’t bother telling him she, Carly and Carly’s husband, Noah, had done both the painting and the cleaning. “Yeah, it’s in the register. I’ll grab it for you. What is it you do?”
“Estate planning.”
She looked up in surprise as the register drawer popped open. “For dead people?”
“It’s generally more effective to do the estate planningbeforethe client is dead.”
Neither his expression nor his tone gave any indication he was trying to be funny, but she laughed anyway and waved her hand. “I meant instead of planning a literal estate. Like building brick manor houses and landscaping and stuff.”
“I think that would be architectural engineering, but I admit I don’t know very much about building brick manor houses.”
Noah was an architectural engineer, actually, but Zoe kept that to herself, too. She’d just give him his key and send him on his way because there was something about him that grated on her nerves.
But once he had the key in his hand, he hesitated. “That window display...”
He let the words trail away without finishing the thought and—remembering the derisive look he’d given the window—Zoe didn’t feel the need to help him out. Shecouldtell him she’d been in the window to dismantle it, but she’d rather make him say it out loud.
“When I toured the property with the real estate agent, there was a tasteful display of historical texts in your window.”
Zoe wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, that was for the town’s birthday bash and they leaned on us to fall in with the historical theme. Super boring.”
“It might have been boring, but it was an entirely suitable display to have next door.”
“If you’re trying to insult me, you’re going to have to up your game because entirely unsuitable is not the worst thing I’ve been called this week.” She laughed. “Maybe not eventodaysince I accidentally cut off that asshat in the BMW this morning.”
He not only sighed, but he managed to make it sound as if the weight of the entire planet was slowly and painfully pushing the air out of him. “Tell me you don’t drive a red Kia.”
“It’s my cousin’s car, but I borrowed it to run to the bank, so yes.” When his jaw tightened, she got the message. “A boring gray BMW sedan. Of course that was you.”
“Then I can confirm entirely unsuitable is definitelynotthe worst thing you’ve been called today.”
“Well.” Zoe was pretty sure this conversation had run its course. “Enjoy your new office space.”
He looked for a second as if he wanted to say something more, but then he took her not-so-subtle hint and after thanking her for the key, he gave a curt nod and left the bookstore.
“Who wasthat?”
Zoe heard her cousin’s voice and turned to see Carly peeking out from behind a bookshelf. “Granddad rented the office next door to him. He’s not a fan of the current window display.”
“Or of your driving, by the sounds of it.”
“Whatever.” She folded her arms and looked at the window. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy the next display.”
“Zoe.” Her cousin’s voice rose in a warning tone. “The last thing we need is another battle with the town selectmen.”
“You didn’t see the way he looked at me, though.” Her mind was made up. “Pissing that guy off will be worth a sternly worded letter from the town. Trust me.”
Preston paused and allowed himself—or maybe forced himself—to take a second and appreciate the moment before he turned the key in the dead bolt of his new office space.
Leaving his fairly secure but highly stressful job in Boston to open his own business in a small town had been a lengthy, monumental undertaking. Just the paperwork involved in moving from doing estate planning in Massachusetts to doing it in New Hampshire had been enough to make him second-guess himself. Then he had to find a town that not only had available rentals for living and working, but that had the demographics to make his business thrive. The more assets people had, the more they worried about what would become of those assets, and there was a lot of money in this little town.
He took a deep breath as the door swung open, and as he stepped inside the space, the constant buzz of anxiety that had been in his head since he decided to take this leap quieted.
It was perfect. And it was his for at least one year.
The hardwood floors looked original but had been well cared for over the years. Fresh pale gray paint covered the walls, offset by white trim. The room was empty for—he glanced at his watch—another forty minutes, so he walked to the door at the back of the space to look in the back room. They’d painted that as well, which he appreciated despite the fact the only thing he’d be keeping in this room was locked filing cabinets. And the restroom was freshly painted and sparkling clean, too.
His watch buzzed and when his father’s name showed up on the face, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to answer it. “Hey, Dad.”
