the manager–though, I did ask the cashier to call the owner first.”
“That’s fine. You can tell me what you need.”
He shook his head. Had he fallen into a parallel universe where the inmates ran the asylum? If so, he should bail out now. The corner of his mouth twisted with exasperation. “I sincerely doubt that you can help me.”
“Why would you say that? You haven’t even asked your question yet.”
He replied through clenched teeth. “Because I need to talk to someone with the authority to make decisions.”
“Okay. That’s fine. Just tell me what you need.”
That did it. Charles felt himself beginning to lose it. “Lady, why aren’t you listening to me?”
“I am listening. You still haven’t told me what you want yet.”
“That’s because I need to discuss the matter with the manager.”
“Sir, I am the manager. I am also the owner,” the soap-covered woman finally stated in exasperation.
Charles groaned and smacked his forehead. He’d really blown it this time. In a small squeaky voice he managed to say, “You?”
“Yes, me.” Anger crept into her voice. “Who were you expecting? A man, instead? Are you some chauvinist who thinks a woman can’t own and run a business?”
Charles began to sputter. “No-no-nothing like that. I like women–I honestly do.”
“I’m sure. Next, you’ll be telling me some of your best friends are women.”
Charles shook his head and sighed. He knew when he’d lost the game and it was time to gather his remaining chips and leave. “I think it’s time for me to be going now.” He turned to make a hasty exit.
“Wait!” the woman called to him.
What for? So she could finish cutting him down to size? He stopped and turned around to face the woman.
“You still haven’t told me what you wanted.”
Was she for real? Things couldn’t get any worse–could they?
“We don’t seem to be communicating very well. Why don’t we begin all over again?” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Abby Minton.”
He shook her hand. “Charles Greer–man with a mission, though lately it seems quite an impossible one.”
She laughed. It was a warm laugh that had come from deep inside her, not a phony, affected one. Charles found himself liking it.
Abby pointed to herself. “It’s my get-up. I’m sorry. I don’t always walk around sopping wet and dragging a mop. There was a mishap from the laundromat next door. I’ve been in the back mopping up soap suds. I could use a cup of coffee. Would you like to join me? I’d like to hear all about your impossible mission.”
Charles followed Abby to the back room. Setting a cup of coffee in front of him, she took a container of milk out from a small refrigerator and placed it next to the sugar that was already on the table.
“I’m sorry. I must look like such a mess.”
“You’re a lovely mess, though.” Charles regretted having said that when he saw her face color. “Oops! I just keep putting my feet in my mouth, don’t I?”
She nodded and smiled. “So, what can I do for Mr. Charles Greer?”
Charles bent down and removed his novel from his messenger bag. He slid it across the table toward her. “That’s my novel. I would like to hold a book signing here.”
Abby picked up the book and opened it. She thumbed through it for a few moments and checked the back blurb while Charles held his breath. Finally, she spoke. “I don’t know…how many people we can attract…” Her gaze was on the book. Disappointment rose within him as he heard those words–similar to the ones every other book seller had told him previously. He was getting the brush-off–again.
He started to rise. “Well, thanks anyway, and thanks for the coffee.”
“Wait a sec. Where are you going?”
“There’s nothing left to say–”
“Stop! Hold it right there. I don’t think we’re still on the same page.”
“Didn’t you just tell me ‘no’ in a nice way?”
She shook her head. “I truly want to help you, Charles. What I was trying to say was that this place may not give you the kind of exposure you need.”
“It’s a start though, isn’t it? All I want is a start. You know, before you can run, you first need to learn how to walk.”
Abby sipped her coffee for a moment. Charles felt his heart banging against his chest. The suspense was killing him.
“Yes,” Abby said finally. “I think you’re right. It definitely would be better than nothing at all. Besides, it would be a win-win situation for the both of us. Let’s do it!”
Charles broke into a smile. He’d finally found a bookseller who shared the same vision as he. And was a vision, herself.
For the next half hour, they discussed the signing. By the time Abby walked Charles to the door and said goodbye, he was a very happy man.
* * * *
“So what did he want?” Francie asked Abby when she walked back to the register after Charles left.
“Believe it or not, he wants to have a book signing here.”
“He’s a writer? I thought he was a salesman wanting to sell you a medical plan or a new security system.”
“No. Just a nice guy, looking for a break.”
“You told him we don’t have the room for a signing, right?”
Abby shook her head. “On the contrary, I told him yes.”
“Did all those soap suds dilute your brain? Have you looked around lately?”
“We’ll make the room. It will bring business in, as well.”
“Not if no one comes,” Francie said. “Nobody will recognize his name.”
“We’ll advertise.”
“Hmm. Not a bad idea. He’ll look good on posters. In fact, I wouldn’t mind having him on my wall–or bed.”
“Francie!”
“How could you not notice? He’s one good-looking dude.”
“I noticed.”
Aside from being tall, sexy
