chapter twenty-five

So many things were left on Sophie’s to-do list. But it was official—she could walk without crutches. She hobbled through the day’s work, and the sun was almost down by the time Aiden applied the last coat of polyurethane on the floor. While he completed the task, Sophie headed to Schooners to finalize the party menu.

The restaurant was at the other end of the boardwalk, within walking distance even with a gimpy ankle. She felt so free without her crutches she relished every step. The waterfront eatery was rustic and quiet, being past suppertime and not quite beach season.

She met with the chef, Ramona Jenkins, an attractive redhead Sophie figured to be somewhere in her early thirties. The care and attention the woman put into the details impressed Sophie. They sat over drinks and samples for an hour, discussing food and eventually segueing to books and authors. By the time they wrapped up, Sophie felt as if she’d found a new customer and possibly a new friend.

“Relax.” Ramona smiled as they parted. “Put your worries elsewhere. I’ve got the food covered.”

“I have no doubt.”

By the time Sophie returned to the shop, Aiden was finished. And since they were unable to step foot on the floor for twelve hours, they knocked off for the rest of the evening.

“We’re almost back on schedule,” Sophie said from the passenger seat as she stroked Pippa’s back.

“So tomorrow we’ll price books. What else?”

Sophie laughed. “Believe me, that’ll take up the day and then some.”

“Don’t most stores just use the barcode?”

“Some do. But some like to have their store’s name on the cover. It also makes the returns easier. Plus, I’m stocking a small selection of used books, which always needs pricing. But back to the schedule . . . The shelves will be going in Saturday and Sunday, even though that’s a bit early according to the polyurethane instructions. It can’t be helped though.”

“But that only leaves Monday to stock the shelves.”

“How are you at alphabetizing?” she asked wryly.

“Not as good as you, I’m sure.”

“You’ll be fine. Ellie’s coming in to help and train the other staff on the register.” She’d texted Jenna to ask if she could come but hadn’t heard back yet.

Just the thought of how close they were cutting it was shredding her nerves. Why had she thought she could stock shelves on Monday and be ready to open—for a release party—the very next day?

“The party starts at four on Tuesday?”