you forget your keys?” The question came from Jane Washington. She and her husband, Hosea, owned the florist shop in the building next door. In her early fifties, Jane’s mocha skin had the youthful glow of a much younger woman.
“No, I was just thinking.”
“Better do that inside,” Jane advised. “There’s a storm coming. I’ll let you know if there are any weather advisories.” Jane kept a radio on at all times. “There’s a funny feeling in the air, like something big might happen.”
“Something big did happen. Someone bought my building.”
“Is that good news or bad?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll find out later today when the new owner stops by.”
“What are you doing standing out here?” This time the question came from Serena’s assistant, Kalinda Patel. The nineteen-year-old college student had long black hair and beautiful dark brown eyes. She also had the look of someone who needed coffee…badly. “The cappuccino machine is inside and I need my caffeine.”
Lightning flashed as if emphasizing Kalinda’s statement. “Okay, okay, I’m going inside.” Quickly unlocking the door, Serena walked into her pride and joy—her bookstore.
While Kalinda hurried to set up the cappuccino machine behind the counter for her morning drink, Serena flipped on the lights and looked around. Serena’s imprint was everywhere. She’d helped build the bookcases alongside the handyman she’d hired. She’d found the pair of comfy reading chairs at a local Goodwill store and had sewn the chintz slipcovers herself. They framed the entrance to the romance section, one of her bestselling areas.
Beyond that was the alcove housing the mystery section. Mock yellow-and-black plastic crime scene ribbons lined the shelves. A vintage movie poster of Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes in The Hound of the Baskervilles hung on the wall.
The science fiction section was next, with Star Wars posters and signed covers from authors who had visited her store. Nearby she’d just recently started a young adult section with a variety of selections for adolescents. The area where westerns were shelved was relatively small, but very homey with a twig chair covered with a Native American woven blanket.
The children’s section was tucked into an alcove and featured inviting beanbag chairs and a colorful alphabet area rug. Some of the shelves were lower and many of the books were positioned face out. She changed the posters every month—Dr. Seuss’s Cat in the Hat had the central place of honor at the moment. That still left room for Olivia the Pig to one side and Sandra Boynton’s latest to the other side.
In the far corner at the front of the store was the reading nook where Serena set her author appearances. A right-angled corner pine bench with vintage needle-point pillows appeared to be built into the shelves all around it. She’d deliberately made this area look like a home library, placing classic books like Pride and Prejudice along with framed photos on the shelves.
A selection of handmade gift items, including scented candles and potpourri, were tucked in various nooks and crannies around the store.
The Reader’s Place focused primarily on fiction, although she did carry some of the bestselling nonfiction titles, especially self-help books which were very popular with her customers.
Serena made a mental note that she needed to update the display of mass market paperback bestsellers, and do something with an autumnal theme for the Weekly Spotlight otherwise known as a metal baker’s rack in its previous lifetime. It was also time to place her weekly book order with Ingram’s and to pull returns to make room before the rush of new holiday titles arrived.
“Ah.” The moan of delight came from Kalinda as she sipped her drink. “Now I can face another day. Speaking of days, how did that Career Day thing go at the school?”
“There was a Marine there.”
“I thought you were speaking to fifth-graders.”
“I was.”
Kalinda frowned. “Aren’t they a little young to be recruited in the Marines?”
“He wasn’t there to recruit them, he was there to talk about the Marine Corps.”
“And judging from the expression on your face, you didn’t approve of the way he did that.”
“He was incredibly arrogant and bossy. When I told him that, he claimed to be displaying confidence and leadership skills.”
“Hang on a second.” Kalinda’s dark eyes widened. “Did you say you told him he was arrogant and bossy?”
“Yes.”
“And you lived to tell the tale?”
“He knew better than to mess with me.”
Kalinda grinned. “Oh, yeah, I can see how a lean mean Marine would be scared spitless by a bodacious bookseller like you.”
“I was wearing my red dress.”
“Oh, well, that’s different. You used your stealth weapon. Your sex appeal. You go, girl!” She gave Serena a high five.
“I did not use my sex appeal.”
“Why not? Was he a dog?”
“No, he was extremely good-looking in a dark, brooding, sexy, gleam-of-wicked-humor, Adrian Paul kind of way.”
“Adrian Paul!” Kalinda shrieked. “You found a guy who looks like Adrian Paul and you let him get away?”
“He was bossy and arrogant.”
“So? Those are fixable things.”
“Not always.”
“You’re thinking about your father, aren’t you?”
Serena nodded. She hadn’t told her assistant much about her past, just that her father was ex-military and extremely controlling. Her parents now lived in Las Vegas and Serena didn’t see them very often.
“I can understand about impossible fathers. Mine is still demanding that I only date Indian men.” Kalinda took another sip of her cappuccino. “Major bummer. Let’s change the subject. Did the new order of category romances come in yet?”
“They arrived late yesterday afternoon after you left.”
The rest of the day passed by quickly as it always did for Serena. A lot of her customers came in two or three times a week, allowing her to get to know them. She heard about their husband’s jobs, their kids schooling, their problems and their triumphs. She also heard which books they loved.
Whenever a new customer arrived, Serena went out of her way to make them feel comfortable, in the hopes that they too would turn into a regular. Handselling was an important part of her job as she worked hard to unite readers with the books they were looking for, even if all she had to go on was, “It’s a mystery with a red cover.”
She deliberately tried to keep the thought of her impending meeting with the new building owner out of her thoughts. But once five o’clock rolled
