“Good morning!” Sarah chirped from somewhere behind me.
I winced, bracing for the stern look she probably had painted across her doe-like features.
Come on, Margo. You haven’t been late in over a year.
With that thought in mind, I slowly turned around, finding the espresso bar empty and Sarah standing just outside of the first row of stacks. Behind her, the bricked walls were lined with dark stained bookshelves and above her, there was a loft area filled with bean bags and children’s books. As she called out my name, I felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of my neck. My eyes shot over to the front counter. Carrie was back in her normal spot, perched on the stool, head bent as her blue eyes scanned over the supply order sheet, a hot pink pen in her hand.
“Margo?”
I blinked and shook my head. “Sorry, Sarah. It won’t happen again.” The words spewed out of my mouth before I could stop them, perfectly practiced, tone even but sincere.
My boss’s head leaned to the side, her brows coming together slowly, her light brown hair sliding off her shoulder. “I asked if you were all right, honey,” she said softly.
I stiffened. “Oh.”
“Yeah, okay,” she muttered, turning and setting the small pile of books in her arms onto the nearest shelf, the sale stickers perched on top. Carrie and Sarah were preparing for our harvest sale next month. I didn’t move a single inch as she straightened, smoothed down the skirt of her plum-colored dress, and made her way to me, her heels clicking softly along the wooden floors. “Margo, what’s going on?”
Her tone set off alarm bells in my head.
“Nothing.” I turned and tossed the towel onto the edge of the small sink. “Just tired.”
She leaned on the counter, clasping her hands. “Did you bartend last night?”
The sounds of 2000s rock music filled my ears as the faint smell of beer and cigarette smoke filled my nostrils, bringing me back to the moment that son of bitch walked in.
I cleared my throat and reached for a mug, just to keep my hands busy. Sarah had waited for the perfect opportunity to strike—when I had no customers and, therefore, no excuse to blow her off. “Yeah, it was packed. Didn’t get home until late.”
“I see.”
I gave her a thin smile. “You want me to make you a second cup before you go check on the twins?”
Sarah had four children. Whenever the store was slow, she would usually take a few minutes to walk over to the next street and check on them. Her husband, Michael, who also happened to be the sheriff, didn’t see the point in her checking on the twins so much. Sunny Side Up Daycare was the best in town, according to, well, everyone who had children in Astoria. There was a yearlong wait list to get your kid enrolled.
“Oh, yeah,” she sighed. “Michael and I had a talk about that. I’m going to stop checking in on them. If I keep going, then they’ll get used to me coming in. So they’ll expect it, which isn’t good for their independence.”
I raised a brow, thankful for the subject change. “What the hell does Mike know?” I asked in a teasing manner. “The babies need their momma.”
She glanced at her watch before leveling me with a look. “Margo, I have a meeting with BB Books in five minutes. I would really like it if those five minutes weren’t spent talking about my babies or my husband.”
A lump formed in my throat.Shit. Shit. Shit.
“How’s the harvest sale prep coming along?” I asked, grinning at her.
She shook her head, her bow-shaped lips pressing together in a firm line. “Don’t play this game with me, Margo.”
“It’s not a game; it’s a genuine question.”
She clicked her tongue. “Speaking of questions, you never answered mine.”
I tucked that damned stray hair behind my ear and pressed my tongue into my cheek. “And what question was that, Sarah?”
“Are. You. Okay?” Each word was firm but filled with a loving warmth that, even after years of being here, was something I was still getting used to. When Sarah got mad, her anger was soft. It wasn’t toxic or cold. Somehow, her anger was filled with love.
“Yes, I’m okay,” I lied, holding her eyes.
We stared at each other for thirty-seven more seconds before she checked her watch again. “Okay, good. That’s all I wanted to know.”
My shoulders relaxed, the tension in my neck dissipating. “I promise,” I added.