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Lonely, I sighed and looked down at my toes. Was I so inept socially that I was doomed to be alone for the rest of my life? Did I not deserve a partner who understood how to handle me carefully and lovingly? I thought I was worth that, and as Dad had taught me, what I believed mattered. Determined, I rose to my feet and went to bed, determined to avoid Jett.
I succeeded excellently the next day, which was Sunday. With the Reading Nook shut, I drove to Pierre as there was a market on Sundays. Distracted, I wandered around the stalls looking for anything that would catch my interest. I discovered three books worth buying and bought soaps and bath bombs from my favourite stall. For lunch, I walked to the old deli I’d used while working in Pierre.
From the book market, I paid a visit to several bookstores I had visited while there and sometimes I’d found bargains. To my disappointment, nothing caught my eye today. To keep busy and my mind off Jett, I did some early shopping for Christmas presents for Reid and bought a couple of things. When I next looked at my watch, it was five o’clock, and I was surprised the day had flown. As I walked back to my car, I bumped into a man, Drew, I’d worked with and accepted his invitation for dinner.
Drew wanted to discuss a project I’d been working on, and he’d now inherited the task. Politely asking for my advice, I agreed to talk him through the plans and ideas I’d had. Drew begged me to return to the museum and take the project back. He made me laugh, and while I appreciated I was missed, I told him no. It was only a business dinner, but it felt nice to enjoy myself after yesterday’s disaster. It gave me the ego boost I needed.
Darkness had fallen when I returned to my car at eight and drove carefully home. The weather changed, and rain lashed at the car in sheets. While I was a confident driver, I was still wary as the storm made seeing difficult. I pulled into my drive and finally breathed a sigh of relief. I hated driving in storms. Quickly scrambling out, I entered the house and went to bed alone again.
???
With Reid away, it was my job to open the Reading Nook tomorrow, and I was barely awake. Grumpily, I greeted Zoe, Henry, and Penny. It was disgusting how they looked far more alert than I did. Penny had been in the shop for an hour, baking for the early rush. Reid and I trusted Penny and had given her a key to the store. The smell of delicious pastries met us when we entered, and my stomach growled. A few minutes later, the door pinged as the first customers from Phoenix’s HQ came in for coffees, but they soon bought the excellent smelling foods. Penny had several batches on sale, some in the ovens, and she was rolling and making more as she went.
Bacon and sausages were sizzling, so Penny could offer a breakfast menu of pastries, bacon, sausage, egg cobs and golden syrup oatmeal. Penny wouldn’t fuss with anything else and kept the menu simple. I was worried about how she’d cope, but Penny calmly had everything under control. Now Penny wasn’t manning the cash drawer or making drinks, she was more relaxed running the counters.
Despite my hesitancy at first, Henry was definitely a godsend. Customers only waited as long as it took to make the coffees, and I was present to keep the busy queue moving. Zoe was operating the front register, and I heard her ringing up several sales. Phoenix’s staff were content to pick up a book and sit and read before starting their shifts. In a hard decision, I locked the Vault until I could be there watching the valuable books.
New customers had seen the people inside and came in out of curiosity or because they’d popped in over Friday and Saturday. I was praying they would keep up their repeat business. By eight-thirty, we’d been open an hour and a half and were buzzing. Andy strolled in and grunted, and Henry offered him a latte. Andy snatched it from her hand and walked away. I was working out that Andy wasn’t a morning person. We hadn’t had anyone who’d gone upstairs yet, so I assumed students didn’t enjoy early mornings much like Andy.
Come half-past nine, the rush for coffee and pastries slowed down to a crawl, and we took a sigh of relief. Penny came out of the kitchen to check her inventory, and we laughed when she saw the empty trays! She said she’d have to adjust the baking each morning as she’d underestimated the sales. To everyone’s surprise, the English baked goods flew off the shelf quickly.
The sausage rolls, Cornish pasties, and porkpies literally disappeared as soon as they were put on the shelves, and Penny appeared smug. She told me she was preparing sandwiches, cobs, and tomato and basil soup. In addition, Penny was making a cream of chicken soup, pulled barbeque pork and chilli and rice, which would appear to be a daily dish. She’d also bake extra pastries. Penny, with a nod to the health-conscious, was readying a healthy salad with either chicken, tuna or vegan options.
Penny kept Andy from the buns and cakes baked for the midday rush, which appeared to be a full-time job! The shop remained busy between breakfast and lunchtime, so book sales were doing okay. Zoe and I had time to fill our internet orders, and she popped out to get them mailed.
Andy was upstairs helping several students who’d heard about us. And they were signing up for our packages, which cheered me as word of mouth often did wonders for a business. Two elderly ladies inquired if they could hold a weekly book club here on Monday mornings. Thankfully, my morning kept me busy, and I couldn’t think about Jett or the horrible things he’d said.
The old ladies had been using the local library. Still, they’d been asked to leave as the library needed the room for better-paying customers. On speaking with them, I informed them they could use the Dickens window seating arrangement if it was big enough. They clapped their hands in happiness and told me it was perfect. Their delight made me smile, and it was with pleasure I told them they were more than welcome. I waived any charge and just asked that if they wanted food or drink they’d get it from the Reading Nook.
The old ladies, grateful for not being charged, promised to let everyone know about the Reading Nook. Bless their hearts, they took a couple of our flyers to hand out to other groups they attended. It may not bring in big bucks, but if they bought our food and drink and ordered their books from Reading Nook, it was still a sale. In truth, I’d have felt guilty charging such elderly ladies.
I’d been on edge, expecting someone from Rage to turn up and yell at me about Saturday night. But no one from Rage came, and I relaxed gradually as the morning passed. I dealt with a further phone call just before lunch from what sounded like an elderly man. He inquired whether we’d a space he and his Cold Case Club could use on Tuesday nights.
I described the Dickens area and also our StudentZone upstairs. The chap asked if it was possible to make an appointment to view the spaces and asked when the Reading Nook closed. When I told him we shut at six, he informed me they usually met from seven until ten. We discussed how the Reading Nook could accommodate him, as Reid had ensured we’d licences that allowed us to stay open late. The man booked a time, and I got ready for the midday rush.
Henry offered, bless her, to take her hour between half-past ten and half-past eleven before the lunchtime rush hit us. Zoe was going between twelve and one, Andy would go at half twelve till half one and Penny when she basically wanted to go. I’d argued with her to ensure Penny had a set time, and she asked me if I could cook as well as her. Penny won.
At about half twelve, I spied the back of a black-haired man standing in the counter queue wearing a Rage cut. I stiffened up, wondering if it was Jett, and then he turned, and I saw it was a brother I hadn’t yet met. A sharp gaze wandered around the shop and came to light on me. He took in my frozen stance, and his lips quirked in amusement. Defensively, I shot him a glare and ignored him. When I next looked up, the guy was gone.
The lunchtime rush was busier than I expected. Word of mouth had spread to local offices and businesses. We were rushed off our feet until two o’clock. Despite my internal warnings to run and hide, I handled myself and the customers well. Penny grabbed me at two and discussed making custom-wrapped sandwiches and taking lunch orders. That was something I hadn’t considered, but it made sense as a few people had to wait for food as Penny prepared sandwiches per order.
In the end, we agreed on a chicken and mango, pulled pork, pork and apple with stuffing, beef and blue cheese and obviously the usual pastrami, cheese, ham and tuna. Penny would use three types of bread: white, wholemeal, and rye. I conceded to give it a go and see how sales did. Penny said we could use a book or take slips in the morning until nine for lunch orders. She’d prepare them, and the customers could pay in advance. The customer just had to pop in and collect their order. Although I’d planned for the café area of the shop, if I was honest, I wasn’t too clued in with what foods to serve. I was trusting Penny to lead me up the right path.
We’d been so busy that I hadn’t had time to question myself once that day. I’d just collapsed in a chair when the shop cell phone rang, and I dealt with a very pushy customer interested in the Lady Downing and Marshall papers. Penny brought me over a chicken salad sandwich, the last sausage roll and a hot chocolate with whipped cream. I politely informed the buyer that I wouldn’t remove the letters from the website and sell them to him.
“Miss Montgomery, I’ll up the bid,” the pushy guy said, and I sighed internally.
“Sorry, Mr Rouse, but those letters are part of the auction, and I won’t be removing them for a private sale. Besides, the offer you’re making is below the reserve price. And I’m certain the correspondence will sell for more than the reserve price,” I informed the man firmly.
Mr Rouse made an annoyed sound down the phone. “I’m an independent collector, Miss, I want those papers,” Mr Rouse’s voice got louder.
“Then please bid on Friday.”
“Want to buy them now.”
The feeling that this guy hadn’t ever been told no was overwhelming.
“Mr Rouse, I understand that, but I’m not willing to take the letters off the site. I hope you’ll bid on them on Friday, but I will not remove them.”
