Grace punched a button on the old National cash register, and its accompanying thwack resounded in the empty shop. “It’s my first day.” She cast him a sheepish glance as she reached for the next book. “It was kind of you to help earlier. Thank you.”

His smile widened and made the smooth skin around his eyes crinkle at the corners. “It’s the least I could do. I’ve been coming regularly since I was a boy. I noticed you’ve cleaned the place up a bit. That’s quite the task to take on.”

“I’m looking forward to the challenge,” Grace replied, realizing the truth behind her words. If nothing else, putting the shop in order would help fill her time over the next six months.

“It will be a challenge indeed.” The man glanced behind him with an exaggerated grimace. “Especially if you’re a book lover. Mysteries could easily be thrillers, classics could easily be love stories, and on and on with all that.”

“I’m not,” she confessed. “A book lover, I mean. I haven’t had much time for books.”

He drew up slightly, almost as though affronted by her admission, though his smile did not waver. “Well, if you were to start with any of them, I’d suggest The Count of Monte Cristo. It’s a classic I’ve always enjoyed.” He tilted his head. “Though it could also be a love story.”

“I’ll take it into consideration.” Grace lifted the last book to ring up. “Thank you for the recommendation.”

He took out his wallet and paid for the books. “May I be so bold as to ask your name?”

“Miss Grace Bennett,” she replied.

“Miss Bennett.” He nodded politely. “I’m George Anderson. I look forward to seeing what you do to the shop.”

She nodded mutely and Mr. Anderson departed, walking backward as he did so to cast her one last devestating grin.

Heavens!

She put her hand to her chest as though she could slow its rapid beat. Just then the chime sounded at the door once more and Mr. Evans filled the shop with his cranky disposition.

His gaze scoured the organized countertop and his furry eyebrows wriggled with apparent consternation. “What the devil happened here? Have we been robbed?”

“I tidied up,” Grace replied.

Mr. Evans scowled and glared around the shop. “That’s why it’s so dusty in here.” He waved in front of him with a folded newspaper as though the air itself issued great offense.