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“That bad, huh?”
“They’re not terrible people. They love Winnie. They wish….” Niall sighed. “They think I’m stifling her future by staying here. They want us to move to Sacramento so they can see her more often, no doubt to send her to private school.”
“I take it you don’t want to go?”
“Winnie loves Candle Bay. She has friends and she’s thriving at school. With the store….” Niall trailed off. The argument sounded weak given the store’s financial situation.
“The store is your connection to your uncle.” Chuck glanced up from his work. “Your roots.”
“Something like that.” Niall was surprised by Chuck’s perception. “My parents move around a lot. They’re in Vancouver now, after stints in Boston and Chicago. I never had a permanent home growing up. I want Winnie to have stability.”
“Makes sense to me.” Chuck twisted something inside the handle mechanism. “Try it now.”
Niall tried the handle, which turned like butter. “Fixed already?”
“Told you, only needed a new washer.” Chuck reassembled the handle. “As for the Yaos, I bet they need to see you and Winnie are happy here. That this is home, not just some place you’re stuck.”
“I guess.” Niall wasn’t convinced. Helen Yao had made her disapproval clear from the moment Elise brought him home to meet her parents. He wasn’t from the right background, didn’t have the right ambitions. The fact that Elise had ultimately proven to be the restless one hadn’t changed her mother’s opinion.
They moved back to the main part of the store, where Amber was helping a customer identify the proper order of the titles in a cozy series. A light breeze pushed inside the windows and shifted the dust motes over the worn spots on the hardwood floor. Despite its flaws, Driftwood Books had grown into more of a home to Niall than anywhere else he’d ever lived.
“What time do you close today?” Chuck asked as he put away his multi-tool.
“Six, like usual. Why?”
“Thought you might want to grab dinner after, to discuss the treehouse project.” Chuck’s tone was casual, but his stare ran over Niall like warm water. “Unless you have somewhere you need to be.”
Niall hesitated. It sounded suspiciously like a date, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for the whole deal. Then again, it was dinner. To discuss a project. Nothing more.
“I should be done by six thirty.” He checked his watch. “Winnie’s with the Yaos until eight at least.”
“Great. I know a chill burger joint outside town. Best fries in the county.”
“Sounds good.”
Chuck smiled—a warm, genuine expression that plucked Niall’s strings. “It’s a date, then. I’ll pick you up here.”
A date. Chuck stated it plain, no hedging, and the treehouse excuse Niall had been hiding behind fell away. Chuck gave a little salute and headed for the door, leaving Niall to wonder what the heck he’d agreed to.
Invigorated by that salute, he spent three hours on inventory, something he’d been avoiding. At five thirty, as Niall was starting to close up, the bell over the door jingled and Celeste Spungeon glided in wearing a pair of rubber waders under an orange poncho with an enormous sequined squirrel applique that wrapped half her torso.
“Niall! The story shaman I sought!” She trailed the scent of essential oils as she approached the counter. “I had a vision about your store.”
“How thrilling for you,” Niall muttered. “Celeste, we’re closing soon.”
“This won’t take long. I was meditating on Candle Bay’s energy, as I do, and it came to me—your store is on a ley line for the entire town. But it’s blocked, Niall, blocked by negative thought patterns and….” She glanced around with melodramatic horror. “Outdated display techniques.”
“You’ve been talking to Gavin.”
“The universe expresses through many vessels.” She extended and retracted her arms as if gathering invisible peaches into her poncho. “The point is I can help you unblock the energy with my new Retail Revitalization Rinse. It combines ancient Creole wisdom with modern marketing principles and a floor wax.”
“Let me guess—for a fee?”
“Investment, Niall. Not fee. You’re investing in the vibrational future of your business.”
“I think I’ll pass.”
Celeste sighed and shook her jowls. “This resistance to growth is the dark miasma holding you back from millions. And yet I understand your limitations. Not everyone has the courage to embrace the quantum leap they deserve.” From her poncho she pulled another new business card—her sixth in the past year and a half—and placed it on the counter. “When you change your mind, give me a jingle. The first consultation is free.”
