The Merchant of Venice Beach by Celia Bonaduce

Author:Celia Bonaduce [Bonaduce, Celia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, ebook, Contemporary, Fiction, QuarkXPress, epub
ISBN: 9781601831224
Publisher: eKensington
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

PART THREE

DOWNTOWN

CHAPTER 14

Suzanna had missed two dance lessons in a row. The remodel of the tearoom was taking all her time, concentration and money. Eric had been right: with a reconfiguration of the nook, they were able to keep both establishments running. But because Eric and Fernando had jobs to do during the busiest parts of the day, Suzanna and Carla were now moving increasingly heavy pieces of furniture on their own. Suzanna missed the rush of salsa dancing. Her thighs were starting to wobble again, which put her in a bad mood. Not to mention that the experience was proving to be stressful, chaotic, and exhausting. She told Carla as much.

“I know it’s a pain in the ass,” Carla said. “But if you’d hire a carpenter, we’d be able to move things along a lot faster. And we could stop hauling stuff ourselves.”

Suzanna and Carla had dragged a small rectangular table through the hallway toward the opened-up space in the book nook that was to serve as a scaled-down tearoom. Suzanna stopped in her tracks and wiped perspiration from her forehead. Carla put down her end of the table.

“I sort of have a guy I could ask to help us,” Suzanna said.

“I don’t want a ‘sort of’ guy. I want a real carpenter.”

“He is a real carpenter.”

Carla smacked the table with her fist and then showed Suzanna the blisters caused by two weeks of manual labor.

“You mean, you and I don’t have to be doing the heavy lifting?”

Suzanna looked panic-stricken into both the nook and the tearoom to make sure no one was listening to them.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Why are you hiding him?” Carla asked, although she did lower her voice. “Is he an ax murderer?”

“Of course not.”

“I mean, at this point, I don’t really care . . . as long as he’s also good with saws and hammers.”

“He’s not an ax murderer,” Suzanna said, lifting the table again. “He’s a dancer.”

“A dancing carpenter,” Carla said as they wedged the table into a corner. “Only in L. A.”

“He’s a guy from salsa class. His name is Andy. He showed me his portfolio and he’s pretty good.”

“Then why isn’t he here?”

“Because I’ve been too busy to get back to dance class and ask him.”

Carla tried to steady the table, but the old wooden floor wasn’t level and the table tilted. Eric, who had just carried a heavy bag of books to the car of one of their loyal customers, bounded back into the store just as Suzanna was trying to shore up the drunken table legs. She kept packets of Sweet ‘N Low in her pockets for just that purpose.

“What are you doing, Suzanna?” Eric asked.

Suzanna looked up from her crouch.

“I’m using these sweeteners to steady the table.”

Eric went behind the counter, rummaged around in a drawer, and came back with several small wedges. He held them out to Suzanna.

“Here,” he said. “Use these.”

Suzanna stared at them and held them up for Carla to see.

“These are fantastic!” Suzanna said. “What are they?”

“I level the bookcases with them,” Eric said.

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