Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 13

13 Ava: Husky (II)

Carlos‘ words bring me out of my little mini–funk, and I nod. “I need to make as much money as I can before the summer semester. I’m going to need money for tuition, books, miscellaneous fees, and then hopefully a car. Between rent and life necessities, I really need the overtime. I’m lucky Mrs. Elkins is even letting me

work this much.”

He nods, wiping down the counter as I replenish napkins in the dispenser. “She’s got a way about her.

Takes care of us all. Sometimes I wonder if she’s even making money off this place. We sell a lot of coffee, but not so many books.”

He’s not wrong; I’ve thought the same. My shoulders lift in a vague shrug, and I start cleaning off the end tables of newspapers, magazines, and books.

“I have no idea, but I can’t imagine she would run a business just to lose money.” I pause, thinking of the sweet old lady and how she treats every customer who enters her shop like family. “Would she?”

“Wouldn’t put it past her.” Carlos puts together a sinful

14:40 –

176

13 Ava: Husky (1) 

cup

of caramel–toffee mocha with an obscene amount

of whipped cream and slides it toward me with a wink. “Here, just how you like it. Go take a break with that dog out there. Have you checked her for a collar?”

I nod, taking a sip of the ultra sweet beverage and sighing in bliss. “No collar,” I confirm with a shrug. “Huskies are notorious for running away. I’m sure she’ll wander her way back home when all the free scritchy

scratches are gone.”

The day passes in a slow, meandering sort of way. People ebb and flow in a familiar pattern, and I’m surrounded by the scent of books and coffee. I don’t think I’ve ever felt peace like I do here, working at the Novel Grind.

When business is slow, Carlos regales me with

outlandish stories and drama he reads on his social media news feeds. He’s been begging me to open up my own profile, but I always decline.

I don’t want anyone to find me here, in this last bastion of peace on earth. Which, yes, is a cringe level of melodramatic, but it’s how I feel down to my very

soul.

250

13 Ava: Husky (0)

Long after the sun set, it’s finally time to close, and the husky is still there, asleep on the sidewalk in front of our door. It takes little time to wipe down the last of the tables, gathering stray cups and napkins and tossing them into the trash. I’m exhausted from the double shift, but it’s the kind of tired that burrows deep into your bones and says you’ve worked hard. Like your body’s proud of you for what you’ve done.

Or maybe I’m a little bit of a masochist for thinking that way.

Carlos has me flip the sign on the door to ‘Closed‘ as he counts out the register, his fingers flying faster than I would have ever thought possible when going through that much cash.