Angelica and I lived with my grandmother. He had accepted that answer, and always got on my case about not calling him back when he left me messages. Angelica told him that my senile grandmother had erased the messages before I’d gotten them. The sole purpose of all those lies was to test just how few brain cells Landon had left. Well, that, and we all enjoyed messing with him.
“I would have told them the right number, but they didn’t ask me.” Cherie grinned. “Rumor is, they might choose one of us to replace Landon. I think that’s why they’ve been trying to call you. I told them that you pretty much run the place.”
“But I’m not planning to stick around. I’m going to go to college…well, hopefully next year.”
Cherie shrugged. “I doubt the job comes with a lifetime commitment. Besides, you practically live here anyway.”
“Not quite.” I looked around the store and tried to picture myself in charge. Once Landon had started working there, I had taken on more and more work. But Landon had still been the one to answer if anything major went wrong.
“They should hire someone from the outside, someone who has experience managing a place and can get the business going again,” I said.
“Should we?” The deep voice made me jump. I turned to see a tall, lean man in the doorway. “Know anyone?”
As he walked toward me, I smiled through my intimidation. I didn’t have to ask to know that the man moving closer was the owner. He looked like what Landon could’ve been if he stopped using drugs and lived another thirty years, clear eyed and confident. “Not right off, but I’m sure…”
The older man stuck out a callused hand. “I’m Al Wentworth, the owner of this fine store.”
“Kelsey.” I took his hand and was impressed by his warm, firm grip. “I’m sorry about Landon.”
Mr. Wentworth’s smile faded. “Yes, his pleasures got the better of him, I suppose. We felt that it was appropriate to keep the store closed all day yesterday. I hope this has not been too much of an inconvenience for you.”
“No,” I said, and Mr. Wentworth smiled down at me, his tough skin crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Judging by his tan and weathered features, I figured he was a diehard outdoors nut, involved in every kind of mountain sport. His face was wide, and his smile seemed genuine.
“If you have a few moments, I’d like to speak with you upstairs.”
“Oh, yes… I mean, of course.”
But he was already off, weaving through book shelves and end cap displays at a quick pace to the stairs at the back of the store. I glanced at Cherie, who gave me thumbs up, before following him.
I hadn’t been in Landon’s office since his death and, stepping into it now, I felt certain that Landon was just in the bathroom, snorting or shooting or using the toilet. Instead, I met Mr. Wentworth’s penetrating green eyes across the desk. He would not be malleable like Landon, and he might be even more frustrating. I sat down across from him wondering if the firm set of his lips meant “you’re fired” or “let’s get down to business.”
“Relax, child. I won’t bite you. I don’t even intend to bark at you.”
I nodded, not the least bit comforted.
“The truth is, I find this whole mess terribly inconvenient. I’d like to get this all cleared up as quickly as possible.”
“I’m sure I can understand…”
“I had hoped to show up, hire a new manager, and return to my home in Aspen. I own a shop there, as well, and I don’t like to leave it unattended. I had felt that I could leave my nephew in charge here and that he would, at the very least, not take advantage of me.”
The bell downstairs tinkled and the old man smiled a bit, as though he could hear money in that sound. His smile did not last long.
“I’m sure you will not be surprised to know that business has plummeted since Landon,” he spat the name, “took charge.”
“No, sir.”
“Don’t call me sir, Kelsey.