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)
“I should go,” Adrian said.
“Yes.” Jenny pointed to the door. “You should.”
He looked at me before leaving and made his way out.
“I will let this moment of heated treason slide, since you’ve been working really hard.” Jenny wagged her finger. “But just this once.”
THE CEO
ADRIAN
I’m fucked.
I should’ve never tasted her mouth…
THE INDIE
SUMMER
In a perfect world, a spicy kiss would solve everything and make me hate Adrian less, but Slow Burn had gone two full days without a single customer, so whatever warm and fuzzy feelings he’d kissed into me were officially gone.
“So, don’t hate me,” Harriet said, stepping in front of the chaise. “But I’ve got some bad news.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” I said, picking up a set of string lights. “I want to focus on the few things that Adrian Sinclair isn’t ruining in my life.”
“Things like what?”
“My favorite cup of coffee, a new book in my favorite series coming out this Friday, and Gillian Taylor’s special signing here at the end of the month.”
“So, about that last thing…”
“I don’t want to hear it.” I shook my head. “Whatever special requests she has, we’ll make sure they’re handled by then.”
“Gillian Taylor’s publicist just called to cancel,” she said. “She’s going to move her signing across the street to Sinclair Street since they offered more space.”
“WHAT?”
“She was super sweet about it, but… Yeah.”
“Did the publicist say they needed more space, or that Sinclair offered more space?”
“Um…” She glanced at her notes. “Offered. Why?”
“Because needing more space would mean ticket sales spiked and we genuinely couldn't accommodate them,” I said. “Sinclair offering more space means Mr. A.S.S. hijacked my signing calendar and reached out to steal her away from me.”
“It was ‘offered.’”
“I fucking knew it. His kiss was a trap.”
“What kiss?”
“Who said kiss?” I shrugged.
“She mentioned that they reached out months before they actually opened, so…maybe it’s not as fucked up as it looks?”
I gave her a blank stare.
“Right. Well, we still need to send Gillian Taylor a thank-you letter for considering us,” she said. “We also need to send her some flowers the day she arrives to thank her for all the previous signings she did with us.”
“I was going to do that anyway.”
“Good! In the meantime, we can focus on making the decor for the Audrey Wolff signing incredible.”
“Did you just say Audrey Wolff?” Michael stepped between us, holding his cell phone.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I’ve got some bad news…”
THE CEO
ADRIAN
Sinclair Street Books Claims Brooklyn, Boasts Record-Breaking First-Month Sales
Billionaire Adrian Sinclair Steals Readers’ Hearts with Impressive Bookstore
Sinclair Street Books Offers Free Books & Coffee to Weary Protestors
THE INDIE
SUMMER
You can do this, Summer. You can do this.
On the final Friday of the month, I poured coffee into my bright red “Adulting Mode” mug and lined up this month’s bills on my desk.
No matter how many times I did this, fresh dread pooled in my stomach as I wondered what my final balance would be.
Counting down from ten, I paid them one by one, watching my savings balance drop with every payment.
By the time I scraped together enough for payroll, I had eight hundred dollars left for myself.
“Okay, Summer.” I let out a deep breath. “You’re still surviving.”
I tucked the envelopes into a folder and left my office.
When I reached the first reading nook, I spied Michael and Kelly leaning against the thriller shelves.
“Hey.” I smiled at them. “What are you two doing here so early?”
“We just wanted to come and talk to you before we open,” Michael said. “You got a few minutes?”
“Always for you two.” I plopped down on a chaise. “What’s going on?”
Kelly sighed, and Michael moved closer.
“We’ve been doing interviews for the past couple weeks, and they, uh—” Michael paused. “They finally made us an offer we can’t refuse.”
“Who is they?” I asked.
“Sinclair Street Books.”
My stomach dropped to the floor.
“So…” He pulled an envelope from his back pocket and handed it to me.
Kelly handed me one, too.
“These are our two weeks’ notices,” he said. “And considering just how hard times have been on you lately, and the fact that we both got signing bonuses, we also included a signed statement foregoing our final paychecks.”
“Please don’t kill us for this.” Kelly’s eyes watered. “This was a really hard and emotional decision. We still love you and hope we can still be friends.”
I nodded slowly, too stunned to speak.
“We’ve been here since midnight, and we went ahead and did this week’s stocking to save you some time,” Michael said. “And we hope you won’t add us to your ‘Readers Behaving Badly’ wall.”
“No, I…” I stammered as I stood. “I would never do that.”
“Well, thank you so much.” He extended his hand. “The past few years with you have been amazing, and I know Slow Burn will keep simmering.”
I shook his hand, and Kelly pulled me into a hug.
As if the awkward silence hanging between us was their cue, they walked out the front door. Then they took a long look at my sign and strolled across the street.