Dog-Eared Danger by ACF Bookens

Author:ACF Bookens
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Andi Cumbo-Floyd

8

As she walked toward the dog spa, Jared and I made our way back to my store, silently choosing not to discuss what had just happened. As Annette had said, it was all a little too much to make sense of at the moment.

Inside All Booked Up, things were steady, and Marcus was talking with a young girl about his deep affection for the Captain Underpants books. She seemed delighted by the idea of a villain named Professor Poopy Pants, and I was pleased to see that her mother, although slightly disgusted, didn’t object when the young girl said she wanted to get the first two in the series. I expected they’d both end up loving them.

Our newest college student hire was working the register, and things seemed to be well under control. Since I wasn’t allowed to work today, I had an idea of what else we could do. “Do you want to sit in here and look at books and magazines with me like we’re customers?” I asked Jared.

He looked over and smiled. “I love that idea. I’ll get us two decaf lattes, and you find the spot?”

“Deal,” I said and headed right to the place I imagined myself reading when I had a chance to daydream a bit. The two wingback chairs next to the fiction section were some of my favorites, and when I rounded the corner and saw them, I was thrilled to find them empty. I quickly laid my scarf on one of them in the universal symbol for “reserved” and went to grab a few magazines I knew Jared and I would like. This felt like such a treat.

One of the ways I had survived some pretty dark days in my life was by going to a local bookstore, grabbing a stack of magazines and books, and sipping a latte while I perused them. I hadn’t always had the money to buy, and while I could have browsed—and often did—at the library, there was just something about being out amongst people and their store energy that lifted my spirits a bit. Throw in a latte, and I was in heaven.

So when I opened my own store, I’d committed to allowing my customers that same privilege, encouraging it even with the comfy chairs and little signs that mentioned that browsing was excellent. Sure, a book got damaged with a coffee ring or a torn page sometimes, but I didn’t mind that. Books were objects that were both frail and rugged and were meant to be used. So what if they got used before they were paid for? I was confident that the atmosphere of the store encouraged people to buy a great deal more than they would if they had to treat the books like museum objects until they’d paid. Those sales more than made up for damages.

And here I was, a copy of Southern Cottage in my lap and my feet on a stool. I could hear the shoppers talking about books, and the scent of coffee from Rocky’s café filled the air.

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