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I couldn’t help thinking about the redhead I’d been checking out only a few minutes ago. Logically, I knew I couldn’t find women my usual way because those weren’t the sort of women I could convince to assist me in my research, but I couldn’t help thinking that it’d be nice to find someone as fun to fuck as the brunette I’d left in bed this morning. Of course, she wouldn’t work. No, I needed to find a genuine woman who believed in old fashioned marriages. Someone who could give me a real challenge. To make this experiment as authentic as possible.
Tossing back my last scotch, I motioned for the check. “Now that we’ve settled that, it’s time to figure out where I’m going to find a wife.”
FIVE
JESSICA
It wasmy usual evening to stop by my parent’s bookstore, but I would’ve come anyway. Not satisfied with my parents’ bleak response about the sale of the building, I knew if I didn’t look out for them, no one would. And since Mom had texted me around lunch saying that they’d gotten a second letter, this one with a few more details, I was eager to read it.
We didn’t bother with pleasantries beyond a hug, and even that had been strained. As we sat down together in the backroom, Mom handed me the letter and watched as I read it, a grim expression on her face. After I finished, I rubbed my temple and gritted my teeth.
It was, almost verbatim, the letter Gilbert Gold had given me on Friday evening, but this wasn’t just more recent. It was colder, more formal. And that wasn’t a surprise because it also included a name. The name of the new owner of the building. He’d bought out everything. Everyone. The bike shop, the barber, the bakery, the bookstore, and all the offices above those ground-floor storefront shops. All the tenants had to vacate by the end of the year.
Granted, it was only June, but still. Six months for people who had been working here for years, some for decades. Six months to figure out how to live the rest of their lives.
I looked over to the doorway where my parents had measured my height every year since I was old enough to stand. These shops weren’t just random places to work. Benji’s grandfather had started that barber shop in the forties, and Mrs. Lancing’s bakery had been a staple in the neighborhood since before I was born. Even Underhill’s Tax Services had been in the building for more than a decade and he offered discounts to everyone else who worked here.
Across from me, my mother sipped from her cup of coffee and tried to put on a bright face. “It won’t be that bad, Jess. We’ll work something out.”
“Hmmm…”
I’d been keeping to non-verbal sounds as I tried to fight my building anger, but it was a losing battle. I’d had to put the letter down or risk crumbling it when my hands closed into fists.
Every time I thought of the name of the buyer, my wrath grew, a fire inside me that felt like it would consume me if I didn’t get it under control. Frankly, I was surprised the letter hadn’t burst into flames by now.
Broker Publishing.
That was who’d bought the building.
Derrick Thomas. Rat Bastard Extraordinaire.
He’d fired my best friend for a slight mistake, and now he was stealing my parents’ livelihood. Not just my parents, either. A lot of good people were being forced out, and I doubted any of them were happy about it.
“Um…Jess…”
I jerked my gaze up from where I’d been staring at my hands and met my mom’s worried eyes. The shape of them were the same as mine, but her irises were light blue instead of the light gray mine were. Still, I saw a lot of myself in her.
“Honey, it will all be okay.” She put her hand on my arm.
“If you say so.” She needed a brave face from me, not a furious one, so I faked a smile and reached out to give her a hug, then turned to my dad to do the same. “If you want me to cosign a loan or anything when you find a new shop, let me know.”
Dad hugged me even tighter. “We’re still considering our options.”
I pretended not to notice the worry in his storm gray eyes as I pulled back. “Of course. And there’s plenty of time.”
There really wasn’t, but why the hell talk about the elephant in the room when we could find something more pleasant to discuss?
“Why don’t we work on displays for this week’s new releases, Mom?”
She agreed, and the two of us each picked a box and carried it back out to the front of the store. One reason I enjoyed coming in on Mondays was because of the new releases for Tuesday.
It was a job we both loved, and it was something that would distract me while I hopefully settled my thoughts. I wasn’t banking on it, though. Between this and what had happened with Jami, I was so furious I couldn’t see straight.
“I want the new Kingston here,” Mom said.
I nodded as I half-listened, the other part of my brain still obsessing over the fact that my boss seemed to be set on destroying the lives of the people I loved.
Had I gone and pissed in Thomas’s Wheaties without realizing it? Had I accidentally taken his creamer in the employee break room?