Chapter FiveJenna
It’s a typical Tuesday afternoon at the Lit Apothecary. The (deserted) sales floor has been swept, dusted, and polished, the (sparse) gaps on the shelves filled, the (dismal) account ledgers balanced. Britt works on inventorying the back stock while I sort through today’s batch of mail in my office. This chore is always an exercise in boredom with the occasional sprinkle of frustration, which is why I put it off until late in the day.
Junk, junk, more junk. Publisher’s advance list—I’ll set that aside for buying season, if we make it to the next one. And . . . a letter from the chain bookstore who wants to buy us out.
Fucking again? I treat that last one to a death glare and spike it into the trash can without even opening it. It’s almost certainly yet another buyout o
