Frau Lamm chuckled. “See? We’ll make a stationery addict out of you before you know it. I’ll go take care of the customer.” She walked past Susanne to the door, then paused and looked back. “By the way, you’ve got ink on your ear.”

The door clicked shut behind her.

Susanne stayed behind, looking after Anja. Frau Lamm, she reminded herself. She reached up to touch her ear but then stopped and glanced at her inky fingers. Now she would have to be the one who stepped into the bathroom to clean up.

Somehow this rescue mission wasn’t going the way she had expected at all, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

When Frau Lamm turned the sign on the door to closed that evening, Susanne did a quick calculation of how much revenue they had made. Not bad. In the week she’d been here, this was the best sales day so far, mostly because of the four-hundred-euro pen Frau Lamm had managed to sell to the customer she had taken over from Susanne.

Uncle Norbert peered over her shoulder. “Ooh! That’s promising, isn’t it?” Before Susanne could answer, he clapped his hands and added, “How about I take you two to dinner as a thank-you? My treat.”

“Yeah, it was a good day, but I hardly think immediately spending any extra money we made will help us.” God, it was a wonder the store had survived all these years. Her uncle might have a vast knowledge of stationery and a heart of gold, but a businessman he was not.

Uncle Norbert rubbed his bearded cheeks. “Oh. Right. I just want you to know how much I appreciate your help.” He looked at Frau Lamm. “Both of your help.”

Frau Lamm gave him a quick hug. “We do feel appreciated, even without a dinner invitation. Right, Frau Wolff?”

“Right.”

“Frau Wolff?” Uncle Norbert glanced back and forth between them. “Why so formal?”

Frau Lamm said nothing and walked past them to the back, leaving Susanne to answer.

“We’re colleagues, Uncle Norbert.” She kept her voice low. “Not friends.”

“Why can’t you be both?” her uncle asked.

“Because…because I think it’s better to keep work and my private life separate.” She had made the mistake of mixing both once, and she would never repeat it.

Uncle Norbert fluffed his circle of gray hair with an expression that indicated this concept was completely foreign to him.

Frau Lamm returned from the back, wearing her now-dry coat. She paused in the middle of the store to strap on her bicycle helmet.

Uncle Norbert frowned. “You’re not planning on taking your bike home, are you? It’s still raining.”