Page 61 of Trick or Stalk

“You're very judgmental for someone who eats things she finds beneath furniture.”

I step into the cluttered storage room and begin searching. I find the bags near the back.

Penny remains in the doorway.

“Smart girl.”

I look around.

The room is larger than I remember. With no windows and only one overhead light, the room feels dim and eerie. Boxes of books and supplies are everywhere.

My gaze goes to the heavy wooden door. It has started drifting inward.

“Oh hell no.” I hurry over and shove it open again.

Penny stares at me.

“I don't trust it.”

She sneezes.

“Exactly.”

I wedge one of the smaller boxes against the bottom of the door.

“There.”

The door stays open.

“I'm smarter than an eighty-year-old piece of wood.”

I pick up the box of bags.

The little box holding the door shifts and the door moves an inch.

I stop.

It stays in position.

I hurry out before the box decides not to hold it.

The afternoon passes faster than the morning.

By four, I've learned where almost everything is.

By five, I've sold enough romance novels that Margaret jokingly threatens to put me on sales commission.

And by five-thirty, Penny is asleep beneath the counter.

“I think you wore her out,” Margaret says.

“Existing wears Penny out.”

“She had a busy day.”

“Yes, all that attention from customers wore her out.”

Margaret makes a sympathetic noise. “Exhausting.”