Page 33 of Christmas By The Book

I stepped inside, and Jorja glanced up as soon as she heard me come in. But, when our eyes locked, she quickly looked away, and turned her attention back to the customer she was serving.

Okay, that was kind of strange. Not even a smile? She must be really busy. I flicked through some books, watching her out of the corner of my eye as she worked, and waiting until the line had finally started to peter out.

Making my way over to her, I grinned in greeting. She gave me a tight smile in return, putting the cash in the till from the last customer before she closed it again.

“Is everything okay?” I asked her, and she nodded.

“Yep, everything’s fine,” she replied, though I could tell she wasn’t exactly telling the truth.

I frowned. “What’s going on?” I demanded. “You haven’t replied to any of my texts today.”

She wiped down the counter, and looked up at me with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Seth,” she murmured. “I’ve just... I’ve just been busy. That’s all.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” I pointed out. Why did she sound so down about it?

“Yeah, it’s always busy on Christmas Eve,” she replied. “People need last-minute presents, I guess.”

“Or they just love the store,” I reminded her.

She snorted, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Not sure about that,” she replied. “Excuse me. I think I’m going to close up for the day.”

She headed over to the door and started locking up, and I followed her. I didn’t know why she was acting this way with me, so formal and uptight, but it was throwing me off.

“Did you have a chance to count the money?” I asked, changing the subject.

She sighed, then nodded. “Yeah, Seth, I did,” she replied, turning to me and crossing her arms over her chest. “But I... I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to keep it.”

“What are you talking about?” I replied, nonplussed.

“It’s your money,” she shot back. “You’re the one who made it. I wouldn’t feel right, taking it from you.”

“I did it for you, Jorja,” I reminded her. “For the store. I don’t want it, I don’t need it—”

“It wouldn’t sit right with me,” she repeated again. “My grandmother would never have wanted someone else paying off her bills like this. And neither do I.”

“It’s not someone else paying off your bills,” I pointed out. “I wanted to do it for you. If it hadn’t been for your books, the books you stock, nobody would have recognized me in the first place, I—”

She looked up at me, and the expression on her face stopped me in my tracks.

“I don’t want it, Seth,” she told me. “And I can pay off the bills with the new customers who’ve been coming in. I think, anyway.”

“And those donations,” I reminded her. “You were so worried about the community not supporting you, but look at how they came around to help you when they heard the store might be in trouble.”

“That’s my grandmother’s influence, not mine,” she replied, as she made her way back to the counter. I followed behind her, frustrated. Couldn’t she see how much people loved this place? Why did she seem so intent on running it down every chance she got? She was better than that, I knew she was—better than to just believe outright that she wasn’t important to this place or this town.

She pulled the lockbox from under the counter, and pushed it toward me. “Here,” she told me. “This is the money from the photos. It’s yours.”

“I don’t want it.” I pushed it back toward her, but she didn’t move her hand.

“Jorja, why are you doing this?” I asked her, incredulous. “You know I wanted to help you.”

“You don’t get it,” she told me, her voice hitching slightly as she spoke. “I...I should be able to do all of this by myself. But I couldn’t. I let my grandmother down. She was the one who got this place up and running, she was the one who convinced people to come here over and over again, but I’m just so... so stuck in my own head, I haven’t been able to do the same thing.”

“It’s not your fault, Jorja,” I assured her gently. “You’re just—”

“No, I don’t need you to tell me how it is,” she interrupted me. “I appreciate all your help, I really do, but I know you’ve got a different life to go back to.”

“A different life?”