Page 21

She stepped back and let them in. “Five minutes.”

“Shall we go in the kitchen?” George said.

“Are you inviting yourself into my kitchen?” asked Ash, following them both in.

“It’s not your kitchen yet,” George reminded her.

“And I’m beginning to regret letting you stay on,” Ash said. Pen put a box on the kitchen table and George put the kettle on. “I did say five minutes.”

“Let’s sit,” said George.

Pen looked like she was holding something inside, like a kid with a secret. She was bouncing and Ash took a seat with a sigh. “What?”

Pen and George shared a look. “Alright, so we sort of need to ask you a favor,” Pen said.

“No,” said Ash.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” said George.

Ash saw Pen take a very deep breath. “The thing is,” said Pen. “The thing is that the bookshop is very much a part of town. It’s a part of our community and we’re famous for having it.”

“So you’re here to persuade me not to sell it,” Ash interrupted, feeling slightly irate. The shop was hers, well, almost hers, nobody could tell her what to do with it.

“Have a brownie,” said George, opening the box and pushing it toward her.

“Stop bribing me,” said Ash. But the smell was tempting, rich and chocolatey. She took a small square. “Is there anything in these?” she asked suspiciously. “Drugs?”

“Love,” Pen said.

Ash growled at her.

“Um, would we be able to persuade you not to sell the shop?” asked Pen hopefully.

“I’m an accountant, not a bookseller. I have no desire to run a shop.”

“Why not?” asked George. “It’s a good business, you could make money.”

“And have to deal with people all day?” asked Ash. “No, thank you.”

Pen shared another look with George. “Alright then,” she said.

“Alright then? It’s that easy?” Ash scoffed. She took a bite of her brownie and found that it was just as gorgeous as it smelled. Rich and decadent and just perfect. She relented just a little with the sweetness of the dessert. “You aren’t trying very hard if you want me to keep the place.”

“We can’t force you,” Pen said with a shrug. “I’m pretty sure that all the baked goods in the world wouldn’t make you do something that you don’t want to do.”

“Know me that well, do you?” Ash asked, squinting at her. Good lord, that hair was almost golden in the kitchen light, sparkling like something out of a shampoo commercial.

“No,” Pen said, smiling. “I don’t know you well at all. Not through lack of trying.”

“Hmmph,” was all Ash said, taking a bite of brownie.

“But we know we can’t force you not to sell if that’s what you want to do,” George put in.

“So where does that favor come in then?” asked Ash.

Yet another deep breath from Pen. Many more like that and she’d be hyperventilating. “Well, we’d like to ask you to, um, to give us a little time before you sell so that we can come up with a plan to, um, to buy the shop ourselves.”

Ash felt her eyebrows rise so high they were in danger of shooting up off her face. “You two?”