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“We’re keeping a bookstore financially viable. That makes us deserving of a Nobel prize. We’re practically heroes!”
“I guess that’s one way to look at it. We’re subsidizing literacy. But that doesn’t make the coffee any better.”
Then we had to stop criticizing our employer as the store opened for the day and patrons came pouring in for their morning caffeine fix. I wanted to stand on the counter and tell them where they could go for better coffee and pastries. If it got me fired, then maybe I’d be forced to find a better job. But I was too busy to give in to the temptation. Those lattes didn’t make themselves.
At last, the morning rush ended, and we had a chance to catch our breath before the lunch rush. Florence wiped down the counters while I cleared tables, stacking the abandoned books on a shelving cart. Florence glanced into one of the carafes and said, “There’s about a cup left. Do you want it, or should I just throw it out before I make a fresh pot?”
“Is it the regular or the coffee of the day?”
“It’s the regular.”
“I’ll take it.” My morning coffee had already worn off, and it was hard to get away for a coffee break when you worked in a coffee shop. I stood behind the counter, sipping the burnt-tasting coffee, while I perused the classified ads in a newspaper a patron had left behind.
“Still job-hunting, I see,” Florence remarked when I circled an ad. “Are you going to actually apply for any of these, or are you going to talk yourself out of it again?”
“The result will be the same,” I said, sighing.
She snapped me with a towel. “How do you expect good things to come to you when you have that attitude?”
“I don’t think my attitude has much to do with it. I’m not even getting interviews anymore. There just aren’t any advertising jobs. I’ve been trying for almost a year.”
“And it’s become easier for you to stay here. It’s a comfort zone.”
“Here? Comfortable? Are you insane? Of course I want to get out of here.”
She glanced around, as though making sure we weren’t being overheard, then bent toward me and whispered, “Well, you might want to start applying again or networking or putting up billboards, or whatever it takes to find something, because I heard we’re being sold.”
“Sold? To one of the chains?”
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, things are bound to change.”
“If it stays a bookstore, they’ll keep the coffee shop. As you said, we’re a profit center.”
“But bookselling isn’t exactly a growth industry these days. They may just want the real estate.”
I groaned and leaned down, resting my forehead on the newspaper. “Just what I needed. Maybe I should accept Josh’s proposal and become a housewife. It doesn’t look like I’m going to succeed at anything else.”
“My, that does sound romantic,” she said dryly. “You didn’t tell me Josh proposed.”
The memory of it was hazy, like it was something I’d dreamed rather than experienced. “Well, it wasn’t really a formal proposal. More a suggestion. I think I said something about my job hunt, and he said if I married him, I wouldn’t have to worry about it.”
She fluttered her hand against her chest. “Be still my beating heart. How did you not swoon and fall at his feet?”
“Shut up!” I scolded her, even as I couldn’t help but grin at her theatrics. “I think he was raising the topic. Who proposes out of the blue without having discussed anything about marriage ahead of time? I’m sure the real proposal, when it comes, will be very romantic.”
“Yeah, he’ll tell you you’re a failure, but he’s willing to support you.”
“That’s not what he meant,” I insisted, my cheeks flaming. “And I have no intention of letting him support me, but it might be nice to have the pressure taken off the job hunt and to have more time to work on my résumé and go on interviews.”
“You’ll get the time if the store closes, though that probably won’t ease the pressure.”
“The store’s not going to close,” I muttered, returning to the classifieds. And would marrying Josh really be that bad? He was smart, attractive, successful, and he was a decent guy. Heart-stopping romance was the kind of thing that only happened in movies. And in coffee shops, I thought, remembering the moment that morning when time had stood still as I looked into those dark blue eyes and felt like destiny had caught up with me.
*
Contrary to Florence’s fears, nothing much seemed to change after the sale went through later that week. There was a memo from the new owner saying it would be business as usual for the time being, and life went on. Josh didn’t bring up the topic of marriage again, so I started to think it must have been a joke or an offhand remark, not something I should take seriously. And that meant I really needed to find a job.
I was going through my ritual of reading the classifieds during a mid-morning lull while Florence took a break when a voice said, “Job-hunting?”
