out what to do with the books she didn't need any more. Should she sell them at a discount?
Maybe she should cal the local libraries and other bookstores to see if they'd be interested.
She entered the little office, her hands freshly scrubbed clean of the paint, and scanned all
the paper strewn about. I need my computer, she thought. This writing everything down is for
the birds. She had just sat down to make a list of things she needed to do or get and places
she needed to call, when she heard Lynda's cheerful voice calling to her from the front of the
store.
"Hello? Sherwin Williams, are you here?"
Melanie smiled. "In the office, smart ass. Come on back."
She heard the work boots clomping across the hardwood, and Lynda's smiling, food-smeared
form appeared in the doorway a few seconds later. "All done? It looks great. Wait until Sammi
sees it."
Melanie pressed her lips together and studied Lynda's face for a long moment.
"What?" the café owner asked, looking behind her, then back to the redhead.
"I bought the bookstore."
"You what?"
"I bought it. Sam said she didn't want it, and I asked my uncle to sell it to me."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"Wow. Well, good for you, then." She narrowed her eyes at Melanie. "Why do you look less than enthusiastic?"
Melanie sighed, throwing up her hands. "Oh, hell, Lynda. I don't know. I'm on such a roller
coaster right now."
Lynda's blue eyes twinkled, and she perched on the corner of Melanie's little desk, peering at
her curiously. "Okay, come on. Talk to Auntie Lynda."
The gesture of friendship mixed with silliness made Melanie laugh, easing her tension just a
bit.
"I just hope I know what I'm getting myself into. I don't even know what I'm going to sell."
"Wel , I would think you'd sel books."
"Duh," Melanie said, slapping playfully at her neighbor. She rummaged through the papers
spread across the desk until she came across the list she had constructed several days
earlier. She handed it to Lynda. "What kind of books? Taylor was right. This is too small a
place to sell books in general. It has to be some kind of specialty store." She pointed to the
list. "Those are categories that interest me. Can't very well sell something I don't give a damn about, right?"
Lynda furrowed her brows as she studied the list. "Hmm. Let's see... Computers? Boring. Plus,
you'd have mostly geekazoid computer nerds in here. Pets? A possibility. Would there be
enough stuff to fill your shelves, though? Feminism? Hmm. I like that one. We'll come back to
that. Business? Boring. Mysteries? Another possibility. Classics? Nah. Old news. Used? Won't
make much money. Sci-Fi? You think the computer geeks are bad, wait 'til you see what
science fiction brings in the door."
Melanie nodded in appreciation at the insightful commentary. Lynda brought up facts the
redhead hadn't touched on yet. "So, you like mysteries and feminism."
"Those would be the first two on my list. Can I give you my opinion?"
"Yes, absolutely." Melanie had decided very quickly that she liked Lynda and trusted her
opinions. Lynda was a successful businesswoman. More traffic in the bookstore could only mean
more traffic in front of her café. Melanie didn't feel Lynda would intentionally steer her
wrong.
"Okay. Please keep in mind that I am not saying this simply because I'm a lesbian, not to
mention a feminist."
"So noted."
"You are in a prime location to specialize in feminist and lesbian works."
"I am?"
"You betcha. Al these little streets that offshoot Monroe Avenue, most of the big houses on
them are apartments. The population in this area is very young... probably 18 to 30... and very
gay or gay-friendly."
"Really." Melanie could hear her own wheels turning.
"If I was going to open any type of store catering to the gay population, I'd put it right here.
My assistant, Julie, moved into her first apartment over on Oxford a few years back. When
her father realized where her apartment was, he asked her if she was gay."
"Just because of where she moved?"
"Swear. This is gay central. Did Jeff keep a lesbian or gay section here?" She headed out into the main store area and scanned the shelves.
"To the right, I think," Melanie offered.
"Ah. Here we go. Oooo, look. Seven whole books." She rolled her eyes and then scanned the
miniscule selection.
"Anything worthwhile?" Melanie asked, honestly curious.
"Where the hell did he get this stuff?" the café owner queried, not recognizing the majority of the authors. "Oh, wait. Here we go."
She pulled a book off the shelf and handed it to Melanie. "A classic."
"Curious Wine by Katherine V. Forrest. Classic, huh?"
"Every lesbian I know has read it. And some straight girls." She winked. "Seriously, it's a great book. Boy, it sure would be nice to have someplace with a large selection of gay books.
Barnes & Noble has a section, but it's not very big. Hint, hint."
Melanie grinned. "I'll make a note. Lynda's vote: Feminist bookstore."
"You got it. Although, the mystery idea isn't bad." She glanced at her watch. "Shit. I've gotta run." She stopped in mid-step. "Oh. Wait. I almost forgot. Listen, Julie and I are going out Thursday night. It's Ladies' Night and we're going to hit Happy Hour. You want to go?"
Melanie opened her mouth, but her response was pre-empted by an upheld hand. "Wait, before
you say anything, yes, it's a gay bar, but don't worry. We'll protect you."
Melanie laughed out loud at that, playfully punching Lynda in the shoulder. "I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself, Mom. Yes, I'd love to go. Thanks."
"Great." Lynda headed out the door. "I'l come get you around five," she tossed over her shoulder.
Melanie turned back to the store, folding her arms and scrutinizing the overall space. "Well,"
she said out loud, "I'm definitely a feminist." She glanced at the book in her hand, taking it to the back office and slipping it into her bag. "Hi. I'm Melanie Larson. I own a feminist
bookstore." She smiled at the sound of it. A feminist bookstore. Hmm. She had noticed a
library several blocks up the street and decided to see if it had internet access. It was time
to do a little research.
TAYLOR WAS HAVING a good week. First, she'd landed two major accounts at work, one of
which she'd been working on for almost a year. Second, she'd helped Jason rework the ad for
the local college and his clients were much happier with the result, making both Taylor and the
radio station look good. Third, she'd managed to dodge any phone calls from Maggie and they
were getting fewer and farther between, finally. And fourth, she'd managed to avoid Melanie
for nearly five days. Of course, the only way to do that was to keep away from her own house,
but, hey, whatever worked. She was proud of herself for sticking to her resolve.
It was when she drove down Monroe Avenue after a successful appointment with a potential
new client that she noticed the new eye-catching and inviting blue exterior of the bookstore,
and her resolve went flying right out the window of her Honda. She watched in horror as her
hands and feet seemed to operate al on their own to steer her down a side street and park
her within walking distance of the little shop.
"What the hel am I doing here?" she said aloud, staring at her hands on the steering wheel.
When no answer appeared before her, she leaned her head back against the headrest and
sighed. "I'll just go say hi. It's no big deal." The clock on her dashboard read four-fifteen.
"She's probably not even there." It was several more minutes before she could get her brain and her body to focus on the same task, and she finally stepped out of the car, smoothing her
red skirt, running a slightly trembling hand through her loose hair.
MELANIE AND LYNDA were tossing names for the bookstore back and forth at one another
with reckless abandon, but Melanie couldn't latch onto anything.
"Nothing's knocking my socks off," she whined, tossing her now-tanned legs over the arm of the overstuffed chair. Lynda sat the same way in the opposite chair, after they'd dragged the
pair toward the back of the store. "Pita Paradise is unique. How'd you come up with it?"
Lynda shrugged. "I just always wanted my own little pita paradise," she deadpanned.
Melanie was quiet for a beat before bursting into laughter. "Ha! I get it."
"Took you long enough." Lynda smirked, shaking her head in mock-disappointment.
Their laughter ceased abruptly at the sound of the little bell that Melanie had hung over the
front door. They exchanged questioning glances, wondering who would just wander in, despite
the large CLOSED sign in the window. Lynda craned her neck to peer through the shelves
blocking her view, able to make out only hints of bright red.
"Melanie?" a husky female voice called. "You in here?"
Lynda watched with amusement as Melanie's face took on a whole new expression at the
recognition of the voice. She practically sprang up from her chair as a very attractive young
woman in a red business suit cleared the shelves and came into view.
Lynda recognized her face, sure she'd run into her at the occasional softball game or women's
bar. Tina? Tammy? What was her name? She raised her eyebrows in quiet surprise when
Melanie walked right up, and wrapped her arms around the woman's neck, hugging her like a
long-lost lover. The woman in red closed her eyes, seeming to melt into the embrace,
tightening her arms around Melanie's waist. For several seconds, Lynda felt as if she was
invisible, as if the only people in the world were these two. The contact lasted longer than a
typical hug between friends. Isn't this interesting, Lynda thought to herself, making a mental
note to address this issue with Melanie later.
They parted slowly, and Melanie flushed an adorable shade of pink when she saw Lynda's
raised eyebrows and twinkling blue eyes. She cleared her throat, consciously stepping a few
inches away from Taylor. "I'm sorry. Lynda, this is my friend, Taylor Rhodes. I'm staying on
her property, in Sam's house. Taylor, this is Lynda Murphy. She owns the Pita Paradise next
door."
"Nice to meet you." Taylor reached out and shook the hand Lynda offered. The cafe owner
had to make an extra effort to keep the smirk off her face when she noticed the barely
disguised look of ownership Taylor had donned. She might as wel hang up a Posted No
Trespassing sign, Lynda smiled to herself, returning the too-firm handshake.
The three of them stood in awkward silence before Lynda made a move toward the door. "I'd
better go check on Julie. She hates when I leave her to clean up by herself. It was nice to
meet you, Taylor. Mel, I'll catch you tomorrow."
"Okay." Melanie watched the door shut, then turned to Taylor with a crooked grin. "It's good to see you. I've been keeping my eyes open for your car, but you're never around."
"Oh, yeah." Taylor waved her hand with an air of non-challenge. "Work's been really busy."
"That's what your dad said. I missed you."
"You did?"
"Yeah."
Taylor swallowed hard during the beat that followed, then took a deep breath. "This looks
great. You've really done a lot." She wandered around, scrutinizing the shelves. "It's so much cleaner. And the outside...wow. Does that ever look better."
"You think so?"
"Absolutely. Great color choice. It looks very welcoming."
Melanie smiled, pleased at the compliment.
Taylor noticed the sparkle of the hardwood. "Good Lord, Melanie, did you scrub the floor,
too?"
"Yesterday. After Sam called to tel me she was in Vancouver."
Taylor blinked at her. "Vancouver? They actually went all the way?"
"That's what she said."
"Wel , she sure doesn't deserve all the work you're putting into her shop, after she deserted
you like she did."
"It's not her shop anymore."
Taylor wrinkled her nose in confusion; Melanie was barely able to keep from smiling
affectionately at the expression. "What do you mean?"
"She said she didn't want it, so her father sold it."
"He sold it? To who?"
"Me."
"You?"
"Yup."
Taylor blinked in disbelief, trying to take in all the implications of Melanie owning the
bookstore. "How on earth did this come about?"
Melanie motioned to the chairs, and the two women sat. The redhead took a deep breath and
recounted the appearance of her unexpected attachment to the little shop, which had begun
the second she had set foot in the door. She explained how, at first, the cleaning and polishing
were just to pass the time after Sam's sudden departure. However, after a few days on her
own in the store, she'd started to visualize what changes she'd make and how she'd run it if it
were hers.
From there, she'd begun pretending it was hers. Taylor nodded with interest, her dark eyes
fixed on the expressive blue ones before her.
"When Sam said she didn't really want it and could I just tell her dad to sell it, that's when
the plan solidified in my head." She shrugged. "I just asked Uncle Phil if I could buy it from him."
Taylor sat back in the chair with a grin. "Wow. You have got some balls, girl."
Melanie laughed nervously. "Is that what it is?" Taylor scrutinized her carefully.
Melanie's eyes skittered away from the dark ones searching for contact.