Turning the Page Read Online Free PDF Page B

lackluster first
    impression, which was not improved by the musty smell that assaulted her when she opened
    the door, and its unimaginative name. The inside was bigger than she'd expected, with big rays
    of bright sunshine pouring through the front windows and lots of rich, dark wood, which gave
    it a great deal of character; it actually bordered on charming. The marketer in her perked up
    and took notice.
    The door opened into the center of the shop, which, in total, wasn't much bigger than a large,
    two-car garage. Directly forward, at the back of the shop, she could see a small, electronic
    cash register on a wooden countertop jutting out from the rear wall in an L-shape. Al of the
    bookshelves, Melanie counted four rows, including the two outside walls, and half the back
    wall, were made of the same polished wood as the floor and the doorframe. There were two
    overstuffed burgundy chairs tucked away in corners like naughty children. She realized the
    little shop actually had a library feel to it. She was immediately comfortable there, much to
    her surprise.
    Unsure exactly where to begin her task of "checking the place out," she decided Sam and
    Jeff's paperwork was probably the best starting point. She followed one of the two
    freestanding bookshelves to the back wall in search of an office of some sort, leaving a very
    noticeable finger mark in the thick dust along the way. She wasn't sure if Sam ever dusted, or
    if the shop had been closed much longer than she originally thought. Knowing her cousin, either
    explanation was possible.
    The office, which seemed to double as a stock room, was located at the very back of the shop,
    behind the cash register, and smel ed of dust and fast food leftovers. It was small, with
    barely enough room for an undersized desk that was littered with a half-eaten cheeseburger
    and fries, a two drawer filing cabinet, and several boxes of apparently new books. A miniscule
    rest room containing the very barest of necessities was squeezed into a back corner. It looked
    as though it hadn't been scrubbed in months.
    A handful of three ring binders was lined up on a shelf above the desk. Upon quick
    examination, Melanie found them to be inventory and ordering records. The filing cabinet
    revealed receipts and check stubs, as well as accounts payable records. She pulled several
    folders, cleaned the top of the desk of the food remnants, as well as four half-consumed cans
    of Diet Pepsi, and sat down with the information.
    Noticing a small clock radio, she tuned it to the first station that came in clearly. Tapping her
    fingernail to Madonna's Like A Prayer, she opened the binder labeled Inventory.
    MUCH TO Taylor’s own dismay, it seemed she had become one of those women she used to
    laugh at, the kind nearly addicted to working out. It hadn’t been a planned thing. Maggie hated
    the gym, and when things were falling apart between them, the gym was simply a place of
    refuge where Taylor could go to be alone with her thoughts. Or, as was more often the case, it
    was a place she could go to crank up her headphones so she couldn’t hear her thoughts.
    After several months, though, she noticed subtle changes in her body. Pleasing changes. The
    tightening, not to mention the definition, of muscles, the higher level of energy, the increase
    in overall strength. She was surprised to discover that she actually liked working out. Craved
    it. Once she had made the break from Maggie, she still found herself at the gym three times a
    week, using the visits to work her body as well as clear her mind.
    Today, the thoughts filling her head to the point of spilling out her ears were all orbiting
    around the same subject: Melanie. Taylor shook her head with a wry grin as she pushed against
    the steps of the Stairmaster, sweating as she climbed her way to nowhere. It had been quite
    some time since she had clicked so easily with somebody. Melanie seemed just as comfortable
    with her, judging from dinner last