Page 40 of The Sandy Page Bookshop

Leah

Book business aside, there was a multitude of personal business at the Sandy Page, and Leah had no one to share it with.

Brad was enmeshed in the beginnings of love, from the high of a first date to the low of saying goodbye to Ethan who was returning to Boston.

Lucy, whose family tragedy she’d just learned of, was heavy on her mind.

Eudora, who’d been the most unsettled of all, now seemed to be the only one relatively at ease.

As for herself, Leah dealt with strain the only way she knew how that summer: new projects.

Turning the kitchen area into a little café was her latest coping mechanism.

Normally she’d be happy to have Luke back in the mix to assist, but after the reunion her feelings about him were complicated and confusing.

It had taken a couple days to get up the courage to call him and ask if he’d be willing to take on one more project at the shop.

There was no mention of the reunion. Or Holly Houston.

Their call was businesslike and brief, but he agreed to come by.

By then, Leah didn’t know if that was good news or not.

“What?” she said, answering.

“Leah? It’s me.”

“I know who it is,” she barked. “Why do you keep calling?”

“I need to talk to you.” He paused. “Is now a good time?”

The man had such nerve. They were done. She was trying to get on with her life. “There is never a good time. What is it?”

Greg hesitated. “Maybe I should call back when you sound less busy. It’s kind of important.”

There was nothing he could say that would ever again register on Leah’s list of importance. “Please just say whatever it is. I’m almost at work.”

“I left Rebekah.”

After everything, it was the last thing she expected.

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked, when she didn’t answer.

“You left, or she did?” As soon as the words were out, Leah realized it shouldn’t matter. She was not interested in getting into the weeds. It was Greg’s mess, Greg’s life, and she wanted no part of it.

“I did,” he said adamantly. “Because I still love you.”

This time Leah pulled over. She swung into the parking lot for Tale of the Cod and leaned back in the driver’s seat. “Greg.”

“I do, Leah. I still love you, and I want us to get back together. I want our life back.”

His voice filled her car, but she could not let the words get into her head. She’d worked too hard that summer to rid herself of his broken promises.

“Can I come see you?”

“No. I need to stop you right there.” Leah looked around her, at the tourists starting to fill the sidewalks in their cheery summer garb, at the young family sitting on the bench by Buffy’s Ice Cream, all of it juxtaposed against the dread that was filling her. “This is too much. It’s outrageous.”

“If we could just sit down and talk…”

She had to cut him off before he uttered another crazy word. “You made your choices, Greg.”

“I never left you for her! I realize now that Rebekah was just a knee-jerk reaction to our breakup. To help me get through it.”

“Get through what ?” Leah wanted to hit the steering wheel.

“I was the one who lost her job, who went down in flames over the scandal with Luna’s book.

I was the one who lost everything, not you!

” She stopped to catch her breath. “And what did you do, instead of supporting me through it? You had second thoughts! You called off our wedding.”

“And you left Boston. You packed up and left without giving us time to maybe figure things out.”

“Because you faltered. How could I marry someone who faltered? When I needed him most?” She was shouting now, and people outside the car were turning to look. Leah took a deep breath. “I don’t want to revisit things, Greg. This is crazy.”

“Leah, please, it’s not crazy—”

“It is. You’re reeling from your breakup with Rebekah or whatever the hell is going on back there, and you’re just grasping at straws. I won’t be your straw, Greg. Goodbye.”

The shop was just around the corner, at the end of Main, but it took Leah several minutes to collect herself.

In the short drive until she parked her car out front, she’d gone from outrage to near hysteria.

Who did Greg think he was? What was he thinking?

For an insane moment she wondered what had happened between him and Rebekah, then she chided herself.

None of it mattered. On her way into the shop, she began to laugh.

The ridiculousness of it all had gotten to her.

She was still laughing when she unlocked the door and flicked on the lights.

Across the room, a head popped up from one of the armchairs. Leah dropped her bag and screamed.

“It’s me!” Brad bolted upright looking equally alarmed. A blanket slipped from his lap. “Sorry, it’s just me.”

“Jesus, Brad, you scared me to death!”

“I didn’t mean to.” He rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch. “I must have fallen back to sleep.”

“Did you sleep here all night?” Leah lowered herself into the chair opposite Brad, studying him. He looked terrible, his eyes lined by dark circles. His seersucker shirt, which she realized he must’ve worn for his goodbye dinner with Ethan, was badly creased.

Brad looked down at his hands. “My grandmother kicked me out.”

“Oh, Brad.”

She made coffee. Since there would be none of Maria’s pastries, she rummaged through the fridge and found a sleeve of bagels. She toasted one, slathering it with extra cream cheese, and brought all of it out to the storefront on a little tray.

“Eat,” she ordered. For once Brad did not complain about the carbs.

When he’d devoured the bagel and finished the coffee, he was ready to talk.

“How did she find out?” Leah asked softly.

“Ethan and I went out to dinner last night, before he left.” He smiled sadly. “It was so nice. We went to STARS at Chatham Bars. Everything was perfect.”

She waited for him to go on.

“The thing is, I never expected an Ethan in my life. My goal for this summer was to earn some money for grad school and see my grandma. I wasn’t even looking for someone new.”

“They say that’s when it happens.”

“Last night at dinner, we talked. About making this work long term.” Brad’s eyes shone. “We’re both so surprised to have stumbled into each other, and we don’t want to let go.”

“That’s beautiful, Brad. It’s what you deserve.”

“I was so happy on the drive home. I wasn’t even sad Ethan was leaving. We made a commitment. In a few short months, I’d be back in the city with him. I was just so…”

“Happy?” Leah could feel it emanating from him just in the telling. But then his face fell.

“When I got home, it was late. My grandmother always goes to bed early, but there was a light on in the parlor. She had waited up for me.” Brad let out a long breath. “Right away, I knew why.”

“What did she say?”

“She was worked up. The second I opened the door she hopped up out of her chair. I could see her cheeks were flushed, like she’d been pacing. Straightaway she asked me if I had been out with Ethan.”

“She knew.”

Brad nodded. “When I told her yes, she told me that she did not like me hanging out with him. That he was a sinner.”

“Oh, Brad. What did you say?”

“I told her I guess that made me one, too.” He put his head in his hands. “She told me to get out. That she never wanted to see me again.” His voice broke. “That I was dead to her.”

Leah rose and wrapped her arms around Brad. Here was one of the kindest, funniest, most generous hearts she’d known, and his own grandmother had turned him away. When she let go, she looked him in the eye. “You’re going through a lot, but you can’t stay here,” she told him.

“I know.” Brad stood up, gathering his blanket and pillow. “I’ll find a place, don’t worry.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Leah said. “I meant, you can’t stay here at the shop. I want you to stay with me. At my house.”

She could see him beginning to object. “I mean it. I could use the company.”

He was so worn out, Brad did not argue “Thank you, Leah.”

“Where’s your stuff?”

“Outside. In my car.”

“I want you to take the morning off and go to the house. Take a shower, then try to get a nap.”

“But Luke is coming in, and we’ve got coffee and bakery vendors scheduled.”

“Which I will handle.” She smiled at him. “You’re good, but you’re not irreplaceable.”

To her relief, Brad smiled back. “Yes I am.” She gave him her key, directions to the house, and sent him out the door.

Greg’s call had thrown her, but walking in on Brad had sent her spinning. Despite the café space being nothing more than a sketchy concept and an ugly seventies kitchen, she’d lined up meetings with a few local food vendors. She was so deep in thought she didn’t hear Luke come in the front door.

He found her staring blankly at her laptop in her office. “You alright?” he asked.

Leah jumped. How she wanted to divulge the blows of the morning, but it was not the time and Luke was not her person. “Just busy and distracted,” she lied.

She followed him to the kitchen, trying to get her head in the game.

“Well, it’s just as ugly as I remembered it,” he said. Looking into his blue eyes she was reminded of the last time they spoke, leaning against the railing at Wequassett. How handsome he looked, how his words had stung. “So, what’s the plan in here?”

He pulled out a pad and it snapped her back to attention.

“I want to set up a little café area in the back corner of the store, with a few tables and chairs for customers. Since the kitchen already has a window cutout that looks into the store. I wondered if we could open it up into a doorway?” she asked.

“What are you planning to offer?”

“Coffee, muffins, light café fare.”

“Are you looking to do a commercial kitchen?”

“Goodness, no. We’ll be selling prepared goods sourced elsewhere. I need to keep it simple.”

Luke looked around, calculating what that meant for his involvement. “So, counter space and storage. Refrigerator, but no stove?”

“Exactly.”

He opened and closed a few cabinets, ran his hand along the old Formica counters.

“You can replace the counters cheaply if you go with laminate. The floors seem solid, just need a cleaning.” For a few concerning moments, he turned the sink handle on and off and then crawled underneath.

“You may want new fixtures for aesthetics, but the plumbing works.”

“Good.”

He stood up. “Keeping the layout?”

“Yes?”

“It’s cheaper and faster.”

“Then yes.”

She waited while he inspected the rest of the room. “Should be easy enough. I’ll open up the window from the kitchen to the storefront and turn it into a proper door. Other than that, it’s largely cosmetic. Maybe a week?”

“Seriously?” She couldn’t believe it. The kitchen was distressingly dated if operational, but she’d expected something major to crop up. Mold. Water damage. Broken pipes.

Luke’s phone dinged audibly in his pocket, but he ignored it. “What’re you doing about permits?” he asked.

“I’ve applied for a food vendor license. It means an inspection by the health department.”

Luke raised his eyebrows. “You get bored easily, don’t you?”

His ribbing was friendly and familiar. It comforted her from that morning’s upsets and allayed some of her worries about their friendship. “Not with everything,” she said.

If he heard he didn’t show it, already focused on the notes he was making.

She waited while he took a few measurements before returning to where she stood in the doorway.

“I think with some fresh paint, a little shoring up, and some new fittings you should be good to go. You’re in luck,” he added.

“There was a water leak at my current site which set it back two weeks. So I happen to be freed up.” Luke shook his head.

“Flooded the homeowner’s entire first floor. ”

“That’s fantastic!” she blurted. “I mean, the fact that you’re available.”

His eyes crinkled. “I know what you meant.”

Talking to him was so easy; she liked the way they bantered.

But there were things nagging at her. She was still dying to know why he’d driven off with Holly on reunion night.

If it meant what it looked like, and if he’d seen her since.

But they were standing in an old kitchen in her commercial rental with a notepad of business ideas between them, and that was all she had a right to. “When can you start?”

Luke’s phone dinged again. This time he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at it.

From the look on his face, Leah knew it wasn’t a work message.

The message made him laugh, leaving her with the distinct feeling of being left out of a conversation.

“Excuse me for a second.” He stepped aside, his face turning from hers along with his attention.

The whoosh of his reply filled the space between them.

When he looked up again, she could already see their conversation was over.

“Sorry about that. What were you saying?”

“Nothing,” she said. He’d come when he could. And whenever that was, she’d let him in to work. Because that’s what this was about, she reminded herself. No matter the swell of relief she got in his presence or the way her dark mood had lifted. In the end, it was just business.