The same couldn’t be said of Nobby. His forehead wrinkled as he watched her scroll through the photos Susanne had posted so far, making him look like a pug—a pug whose favorite toy had been taken away. “Are the Instantgram and all those other things really necessary?”

“It’s Instagram, Nobby.” Anja gave him a sympathetic smile. “And yes, they’re necessary. Once you get used to them, it’s not so bad. You’ll see.”

It was the truth, even though she still occasionally struggled. Susanne was a patient teacher, never making Anja feel like a fool for asking questions or for taking a while to understand the many things she now had to learn.

“You just tap here and here, select a photo, write a description, click here and here…and voila, you posted a fun stationery picture.” She demonstrated her newly acquired skills by posting the photo of the pastel-colored highlighters she’d taken earlier.

Susanne, who had just stepped out of the back room, peered over her shoulder. Since Anja was sitting on a stool, she had to bend down to see the phone, and a few strands of her hair tickled Anja’s neck. “Um, not to take away from your great explanation or all the things you learned, but you forgot to add hashtags.”

“Oh shit.” Anja slapped her head. And here she had been so proud of her Instagram skills. “God, can’t we just go back to printing flyers?”

Nobby nodded eagerly.

Susanne gave them both a stern but not completely unsympathetic look. “You know we can’t. It’s not so bad. You can just edit the post and add the hashtags.” She reached around her and tapped the screen of Anja’s phone.

Her arm brushed Anja’s shoulder in the process, making her tingle all over.

“You tap here, press edit, and type in whatever hashtags you want.” Susanne did it. “See?”

Anja could only hope that she would remember all of the steps. Susanne’s closeness as they both gazed at the small screen was seriously distracting.

When the bell above the door announced the arrival of a customer, Anja hopped up from her stool behind the counter, glad to escape Susanne’s proximity and the social media stuff that, at times, still threatened to put her brain on overload.

A woman in her late thirties entered the store and unbuttoned her long leather coat while she looked around, revealing jeans and a formfitting sweater.

“Good evening.” Anja walked over and gave her a welcoming smile. “Can I help you?”

The woman’s gaze took her in from head to toe. “Oh yes, you certainly can.” Her tone and the smile she directed at Anja appeared almost a little flirty. “I’m looking for an old woman who’s supposed to work here.”