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“Suits the cold weather. Bit of a kick to them.”
“That’s the idea. How was Jasmine this morning?”
“As giddy as ever.”
“What’s the preschool got planned for today?”
“They’re taking a field trip to the library.”
“Her mom owns a bookstore. She doesn’t need libraries.”
“Everyone needs libraries. Not everyone can afford to buy books.”
“Or cupcakes. I’m down twenty percent on this time last year.”
“We’re all in the same boat. Ever since Winnie did that deal with the sheriff, people just aren’t passing through here anymore.”
“Why would they? Speed traps and corrupt sheriffs don’t exactly scream ‘We welcome tourists,’ do they?” She shakes her head. “Anyway, I haven’t got all day to bitch. You’ve got customers on the way in and I’ve got a batch of these to get going now they’ve met your seal of approval.”
She heads out, holding the door open for a handsome man in a black suit. She turns back to glance at me over his shoulder. “Wow,” she mouths, blowing him a silent kiss.
I resist giggling as the man looks my way but now it looks like I’m smiling at him. I avert my eyes at once. Something about the way he was looking at me made me uneasy. I’ve seen those eyes before somewhere, I’m sure of it.
Behind him, a few more people walk in. A couple head for the marital guidance section and start browsing together. As the door swings shut, it crashes open again. Winnie marches in and storms up to the counter. “Can I help you?” I ask. “Need The Little Book of Calm?”
“You could call me mayoress and show some respect. Or stepmother maybe? But no, you act like I’m a complete stranger to you. I don’t know why I expected any different.”
“You threw me out of the house the same day Dad died. Didn’t even give me time to pack.”
“Got you on your own two feet, didn’t it? I did you a favor. I got thrown out when I was younger than you. It was the making of me. Look at me now. Mayoress of Centerville.”
“Did you just come in here to berate me or is there something you wanted?”
“Rent’s due. Where is it?”
“I thought you were thinking about charging it.”
She folds her arms and grins a sickly sweet smile at me, the one she used to give my father whenever she wanted something from him. Not that she could ever get much with his fortune gone and us relocating here.
“Your father paid for twelve months rent on this place just before he died. That time was up as of this morning. I’m going to need another twelve months or this place is getting shut down and turned into a hair salon.”
“But I haven’t got that much money to give you in one go.”
“I’m not an ogre. I’ll give you a week to find it. Otherwise, I’m tossing your ass on the street and this place closes for good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to read the riot act to Cara. Her rent’s late too. Shocking how tardy some people are at paying their bills. Never find me falling behind on what I owe.”
She turns and walks out the door without looking back. I want to cry but I’ve got a queue of people to deal with. The couple want their books. Behind them, the man who makes me feel uncomfortable is still staring at me.
“Is it any good?” the woman asks as I take their money and ring it up. “With the bedroom stuff, I mean? Does it help with spicing things up?”
Her partner is looking pointedly at his feet, shuffling on the spot like he wishes he were anywhere but here.
I glance down at her choice. “Flame it up. Bring heat to the bedroom and restore your marriage fire. I’m sure you’ll find it useful.” I don’t add that I have no idea how useful something like that is. I’ve had sex once in my life. It brought me Jasmine and a deep sense of guilt that her father is the man who killed my mother.
“Yeah, but have you used it? I mean with your husband?”
“I’m not married.”
“Boyfriend then.”
