Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 28810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
“Just how long it’ll take your customers to look across the street and decide they’d rather shop with me.”
“Thank you for your honesty.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “You should get in my car. We still need to talk.”
“About what, Mr. Sinclair?”
“Us.”
“What?”
“Things,” he said. “I said, things.”
No, you didn’t…
“I’m going to go back inside now.” I clutched my coffee. “As a heads up, you probably shouldn’t park there anymore.”
“The romantic suspense and spaghetti night this weekend was creative.” He changed the subject. “I always thought that was a niche genre.”
“How is that possible?” I stepped closer. “Do you even read romance books?”
“I’ve read a few.”
“Enough to give me your top ten choices in twenty different subgenres?”
“That would be more than a few, Summer. I mean, Miss Connors.”
“Do you read books at all?”
“I’m very well-versed in the business ones,” he said. “Hence, all of my success.”
“Then I’m sure you’re an expert on being condescending as fuck, too.”
“My guilty pleasure is a thriller novel.” He laughed, and I hated that my body reacted to it. “I read two new ones every week.”
“Well, not that you’ll ever do it, but you should try romantic suspense sometime. You’d be surprised how many twists and turns the authors put you through.”
“Any books you recommend?”
“Several.”
“I’m listening.” He picked up his phone, and I rattled off my top eight.
When I finished, he lowered his phone and looked at me.
Neither of us said anything.
I was honestly tempted to open his door and settle into the front seat, to tell him to drive off and do whatever the hell he wanted to me, but—
“Keep the enemy talking…” Jenny suddenly walked behind me, whispering. “The towing company will be here in five minutes. Five minutes…”
“So, um—” I cleared my throat. “About talking.”
“I heard what your sister said.” He smirked, sliding a pair of shades over his eyes. “She can’t whisper for shit. Until next time, Miss Connors.”
He rolled up his window and drove right across the street…
THE CEO
ADRIAN
Two Weeks Later
Iwalked into the security room at the book printing warehouse, hoping to steal a glance at Summer before I called it a night.
I’d missed seeing her at the store or slipping out on her lunch break, and I was pretty sure that was because of the private book signing Slow Burn had hosted earlier.
Why couldn’t you be someone else? Why did you have to own Slow Burn?
“Good evening, Mr. Sinclair.” The guard tipped his hat at me. “What can I show you tonight?”
“The usual,” I said. “Row eighty-three.”
“She’s working seventy-two tonight,” he said. “She came in early to cover for one of her coworkers.”
“I’m assuming she’ll be leaving soon, right?”
“Doubt it.” He tapped his keyboard. “She’s been working overtime all week.”
I made a mental note to have Benjamin look into that later.
Summer suddenly appeared on the main screen, hunched over a box of Harry Potter books. She picked up five and carried them to the end of the aisle.
Yawning, she stretched and looked over at a sleeping coworker.
She rubbed her eyes before reaching for another box.
“Why am I paying these people to sleep on the clock?” I asked aloud. “We have robots…”
“Yeah, but the robots tend to damage the books.” He shrugged. “The previous owner said he’d rather eat the cost of an hour of sleep here and there than lose money on a damaged shipment.”
Makes perfect sense…
“Thank you,” I said, stepping back. “Do me a favor in about fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah?”
“Have the café next door deliver dinner and coffee to Miss Connors,” I said. “And her coworkers. Obviously.”
“She gets the premium menu, though.” He smiled.
“I’m aware.”
“I’ll get it done,” he said.
“Don’t ever tell her it was me.”
“You tell me that every night, sir.”
THE INDIE
SUMMER
Slow Burn versus Sinclair Street
WAR PLAN
Free Bagels and Coffee on Monday with Any Book Purchase
Daily TikTok Videos of Stocking the Store
Themed Saturday Night Dinners
Confirming Big-Name Authors for Upcoming Signings
Searching for Local Authors for Signings
It’s going well, everyone!
Profits are clearly up!
Keep up the FIGHT!4
Ididn’t have the heart to tell her that despite the uptick in customers and all the new attention we were getting, Slow Burn still wasn't bringing in enough to cover the bills.
The extra money Jenny thought was profit was actually coming from me working overtime at Adrian's warehouse.
Not from book sales.
THE INDIE
SUMMER
Adrian pulled in front of Sinclair Street in a brand-new black Ferrari, stepping out in a dark gray suit and matching tie.
He waved to the group of people waiting outside his store, and then he looked right at me through the window and smiled.
I shut the blinds.
“What’s with the line over at Sinclair Street today?” I asked Jenny. “Another preview day for his executives?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Jenny picked up her binoculars. “There’s a sign up by the doors, but I can only make out two ‘B’ letters so far.”
“Hmmm.” I flipped through my mail, my stomach sinking at the ugly “final notice,” “urgent,” and “overdue” stamps plastered across the envelopes.