Free The Little Bookshop On the Seine by Rebecca Raisin

the figures. From what I gathered from our flurry of emails, the cost of the building maintenance was frightfully expensive. Being such an old place, and the inevitable barrage of foot traffic, there was always something that needed to be fixed. Competition with other bookshops was fierce and her novels were priced lower to sell, leaving a dent on profits.
    Budgets and sales projections made my brain hurt, but I’d have to learn how to do it, and make sure I didn’t let my friend down.
    “We’re glad you’re here,” Oceane said. “I thought perhaps Beatrice would take the management position when Sophie announced she was leaving.”
    “Oh?” I asked, an uncomfortable coolness running through me. Had I stepped on her toes, by taking the job she wanted?
    Oceane nodded. “Sophie had mentioned a few times she wanted to slow down, let someone else take over. But, at the last minute she couldn’t trust her baby to anyone. Except you.”
    My heart dropped, wondering how Sophie could have dangled it in front of Beatrice, and then given it to me. Is that why I detected a sharper undercurrent when Beatrice spoke? I’d have to see how she acted today, because I was here for the long haul. Sophie had even said if I wanted to stay indefinitely, I could. I had a lot to learn, and not much time to do it. Already, I adored the labyrinth-like rooms, the promise of adventures to be had.
    “So is Beatrice OK with me being here?” I didn’t mention her abruptness the day before. There was obviously a system of doing things here, I just had to work it out.
    “I’m sure she is. Just note that the staff will walk all over you, unless you’re upfront. They can be merciless with new people, but we’ve never had a different boss before, so I really can’t say how they’ll act.”
    I had no staff, and never had, and hoped they’d be amenable to any changes my appearance made without making a fuss. The closest I’d come to confrontation was when the local book club dissolved into a heated argument, their opinions divided, and someone had to stand in and mediate. But I’d known those ladies my whole life, and all I had to do to calm them down was threaten to take the wine away.
    Here they didn’t know me though, and I was ready to inject some good old-fashioned fun into the workplace. My answer: team building sessions! Sunday night baseball at the gardens or something. I’d yet to nut out the finer details. Apparently big corporations did that to inspire their employees, make them collaborate as a team. It would be a great way for us to get to know each other, and I was sure it’d lead to a more harmonious working environment. We’d have staff meetings, and sit around a table so they could air their grievances. I felt like I had a secret up my sleeve and was well prepared for them. Perhaps trying new things would spark their enthusiasm once more.
    Oceane surveyed the perfect shine of her nail polish. “The staff are young, determined in a way those generation X kids are without actually putting in the effort. It’s just that sort of place. People come and go, Sophie only has one stipulation – that they love reading above all else. She can forgive them anything, as long as they read.”
    “OK,” I said, confidently. Sophie mentioned a range of issues, but after reading How To Be The Boss 101, I was sure I could knock any drama on the head before it burst into trouble. Sophie was burnt out, and tired of refereeing. This exchange would help us both grow into different people, and I couldn’t wait to get started.
    Oceane took her jacket off and hung it on the coat rack behind the counter.
    By the front door, a small queue was forming. I glanced at my watch, quarter to nine, almost time to open up and be caught in the rush of another day. “Where is Beatrice, I thought she was working today?” It was
at least
a three-person business. Just to keep an eye on the crowds, and replenish, and restack books would take a couple of