“That’s my Suzie Homemaker.” Greg stood. “Grab me some cheese slices and a plate and we’ll be ready.”
After dinner, I made a pot of coffee and fixed Greg a thermos, packing a few cookies in a bag for him to take back to the station. I had a feeling he wasn’t the only one who would be nibbling on the chocolate chip oatmeal delights that evening. Toby was on duty and they were his favorite, too.
I carried the sack and thermos into the living room and saw Greg paging through the pictures in the file. “Josh wants me to copy each and every one of those for every member of the Business-to-Business group. I told him I’d talk to Amy about making batches.”
“Can I have a few?” Greg held up a few of the pages.
I set the bag of cookies and coffee down on the table. “You can have most of them, that way I don’t have to explain to Amy why I’m using all of her monthly allotted paper for copies.”
“Just these ten will be fine.” He tucked the pages in his back pocket and picked up the coffee, holding it under his arm. He held the cookies in his other hand. “I’m hiding these from Toby. He’ll eat them all before I get a chance.”
“Sharing is caring.” I put my hand on Greg’s chest and moved closer, wishing he didn’t have to leave. “Great, now I’m sounding like those ‘fortunes’ Esmeralda’s been spouting off.”
“You figure out if you’re the key or the problem yet?” He kissed me on the forehead, then dropped down to my lips, keeping me from answering.
When he stepped away, I sighed. “I think I’m the shiny new friend she needs.”
Greg frowned, not understanding. Then, glancing at his watch, he paused before he asked, “Whose friend?”
“Go to work. It’s not a big deal.” I walked him toward the door. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Probably not. I’ll pick you up early Sunday morning for our fishing trip.” He grinned when I made a face. “What, did you forget?”
“I was hoping you had.” I tapped the pocket with the pictures. “What’s got you so interested in litter? Or are there more pictures showing illegal activities in our small town?”
“You never know what you’ll find in the trash.”
Sasha poked her head through the doorway to my office-slash-storeroom at the shop. “How am I supposed to code this free book coupon again?”
“What coupon?” I’d been updating the book sales spreadsheet Aunt Jackie had developed to track what types of books were selling. I thought the process was a complete waste of time, but she’d talked me into giving it a try. I liked my tried-and-true gut method. It made ordering more fun. I could experiment with new authors or even new genres. Apparently, numbers told a clearer story. If I could get the darn sheet updated. I kept typing, waiting for her response.
“She said she got it in the council’s swag bag at Vintage Duds.”
Now I knew why my aunt had taken my bag away from me, especially since I’d never approved the expense. Marketing to the other stores in South Cove was just throwing your money away. The people who owned and worked here would buy without a coupon. I glanced at the ceiling, wondering if my aunt was up for a few words. “Scan the book, then key the full price as a coupon. If they bought a drink, the only thing they should be charged for is the food.”
“They’re just getting the book, so the machine keeps wanting to charge them tax.” Sasha leaned against the door. “I guess I could take the money out of the tip jar to even up the till.”
During my shift, Sasha took home the tips as part of her wages. I wasn’t going to let her make up the difference for the coupon my aunt had designed. “Just ring it up and write the tax on a piece of paper. Put that in the cash drawer and Jackie can do a write-off entry when she does the books tonight.”
“You sure? I don’t mind chipping in.”
“I’m positive.” I saved the spreadsheet and turned off the computer. Aunt Jackie could finish the data input this evening. Fridays were usually my day off, but I’d agreed to work in the office in case Sasha needed help. Toby would be here in an hour. I grabbed my purse and entered the café. I was surprised to see Sasha’s customer. I didn’t think Lille Ramsey had ever bought anything from me. When she saw me, her face turned beet red. I decided to listen to the good angel on my shoulder. “Picking up something to read over the weekend?”
“Carrie asked me to get this stupid book for her.” Lille waved the historical romance at me like it was a flyswatter.
“I love that author,” Sasha added. “She knows how to write a hot love scene.”
Lille turned a deeper red. “I don’t know anything about the book. I bought it for Carrie.” She turned and skittered out of the shop, the bell on the door chiming hard when the door slammed shut behind her.