Much Ado About You(21)
As I opened more files for previous years’ sales, trying to get a grasp of what worked and what didn’t depending on the season, it suddenly occurred to me that it was none of my business. I was getting carried away. I was there to temporarily run the store.
Deprived of the many hours, probably days, it would take to look through sales history and the current stock situation, I turned to my other work: content edits from another client who wrote crime fiction. While I’d felt okay scrolling through stock and sales history, as I worked on the edits, the screen made me feel slightly nauseated, and my hangover began to catch up with me. All I really wanted to do was curl up in bed and listen to the rain.
Instead I sipped at my coffee, worked for a bit, and then gazed distractedly out at the rain bouncing off the sea. Perhaps, after my experience with Aaron, I was a fool to believe in the connection I felt with Roane. But unlike with Aaron, I’d actually met Roane. Sat face-to-face with him and gotten a real measure of the man. My instincts told me I could trust him, and I wouldn’t let some stranger I’d mistaken for a confidant cause me to be mistrustful of new friends.
That’s all Roane was. I’d friend-zoned him to protect myself. Despite his earlier attraction to me, he seemed fine with that. No doubt that had something to do with my drunken escapades the night before and then his watching me vomit.
Not sexy.
I gave a huff of sheepish laughter and then groaned when the sound ricocheted around my head.
Around noon the rain slowed to a drizzle, and I was contemplating closing the shop for a half hour when a small figure appeared at the door and pushed it open.
Folding back the large hood that had obscured her face, a young woman let the door slam shut behind her and gave me a tremulous smile. She unzipped her raincoat and gave it a little flick, rainwater splattering on the door behind her. Holding out a Tupperware box, she slowly approached the counter.
Her bright red hair was pulled back in a severe bun that was so tight it elongated her eyes. She had a pretty face with charming freckles sprinkled across her nose and the crest of her cheeks. It was hard to guess at her age because without a speck of makeup on she looked very young, but she was dressed much older and dowdier than her years. Her raincoat came to her knees, and beneath it was a light-knit navy sweater with a high neck and a pleated beige skirt that hit her ankles. Plain, somewhat clunky Mary Janes completed the look. She wore no jewelry except for the simple gold cross around her neck.
I grinned at her in welcome and slid off my stool, pretending the movement didn’t make the room spin. My first customer! “Welcome to Much Ado About Books.”
She smiled a shy but very pretty smile. “Hello.”
When no other words were forthcoming, I glanced down at the Tupperware box. Looking back at the woman, I asked, “Can I help you?”
“Oh. My name is Caroline.” She licked her lips nervously. “I, uh, well, I heard what you did for Shadow yesterday.” Her accent was more Downton Abbey than Alnster. I wondered if she was a tourist. But if so, how did she know Shadow? Caroline pushed the Tupperware box toward me. “This is to thank you.”
Looking down at the cakes, I was a little flabbergasted.
Who was Caroline to Roane and Shadow?
“Uh, okay.” I took the box and peeled open the lid. There were cupcakes inside, decorated with pink frosting that looked like roses. “These are beautiful. Thanks.” Surprisingly, my stomach rumbled.
“I’m Roane’s cousin,” Caroline explained.
Oh. Okay. The accent threw me, but looking at her again, I realized she and Roane shared the same beautiful chestnut eyes. “Right.” My grin widened. “Well, it was nothing, really, but thank you for the cupcakes.”
She shook her head. “It was everything, Ms. Starling. Shadow is Roane’s best friend. He’s a wonderful dog.” Her eyes brightened with tears. “I don’t know what we would have done if something happened to him.” Caroline’s cheeks suddenly flushed, and she looked down at her shoes. “You must think me such a goose getting upset over a dog.”
My lips twitched at the way she talked. Seriously, how old was she? “I don’t think you’re a goose at all. I’m a dog person. I get it. They’re family.”
Some of her embarrassment faded, and she nodded. “They are.”
Intrigued by Roane’s cousin, I leaned against the counter. “So, do you live in Alnster?”
“On the outskirts, yes. I live with my aunt. Do you know the road that cuts into the woodlands? We live up there.”
I remembered there being woodlands on the road that led into Alnster, but that was about it. Surmising that’s where she meant, I nodded. “So is your aunt Roane’s aunt?”
“No. We’re cousins on our paternal side, and Aunt Helena was my mother’s sister.”
“So you’re a Robson.”
Her lips pinched together. “Technically yes. But Aunt Helena had my name changed when I came to live with her.”
There was something unhappy in Caroline’s eyes. That and her indeterminate age intrigued me. I wanted to ask more questions, but she started backing away toward the door. “Well, I better get home. Thank you again.”
“It was no problem, really. Thanks for the cupcakes. Maybe I’ll see you at The Anchor sometime?”
Instead of answering, Caroline gave me a weak smile and hurried out of the door and back into the drizzly day.