When the ramen was ready, she poured a generous amount of Tapatío into it and greedily drank the soup. Her churning stomach welcomed the hot and spicy liquid and promptly began behaving itself.
“Ahh.” Sweet relief.
Korean hangover cures always involved steamy, hearty soup. There was even an actual dish calledthe hangover soup,which consisted of some variation of meat or bone broth, leafy veggies, and a generous helping of red pepper powder. Cup ramen with hot sauce hardly compared to haejangguk, but it worked like a charm in a pinch.
With the worst of her hangover symptoms cured, Lizzy lingered in the shower, luxuriating in the feel of the hot water running down her body. Back in Los Angeles, she used to shower in a mad rush as though someone were pounding on her bathroom door, screaming at her to get out. But today, the bathroom looked like a steam sauna by the time she came out. She wiped her hand across the fogged-up mirror and stared at her reflection. She lived her life as though she were running away from it. Maybe it was time she figured out why.
She deliberately took her time getting dressed in a pair of red capris and a white, short-sleeved blouse. She’d filled her suitcase with all the fun, casual clothes she couldn’t wear to work. Attorney Elizabeth Chung was unavailable for the duration of her leave.
Her sunglasses firmly in place, she stepped into the sunny summer day and headed to the bookstore. She had butterflies in her stomach. Had she ever gone into her office with such joy and excitement before? Hmm… no matter. That was why she was taking this break—to recharge and rediscover her passion for her real job. For now, she would savor this incredible chance to work at a bookstore. Abookstore!
Despite theCLOSEDsign, she pushed open the door with confidence—she worked there after all—then faltered at the silence. First things first. She needed to speak with her boss/landlady—ooh, Boss Lady—about getting a bell for the entrance. It had such a welcoming sound. It was one of the manythings she loved about Hideaway Bookstore. She headed straight for the back room and poked her head around the door. Shannon was sitting at her desk with her nose buried in a laptop.
“Knock, knock.”
“Hey, Lizzy.” Shannon looked up from the screen with a warm smile.
“Good morning.” Lizzy pulled a wooden crate to the front of the desk and sat down on it. “Have you thought about getting a shopkeeper’s bell for the door? Since you’re back here so often, the bell will let you know when a customer walks in.”
“I know.” Shannon slumped in her seat. “It’s been on my to-do list forever.”
“A to-do list?” Lizzy closed her eyes and steadied her breath. “Is this a real list or a figurative list?”
“It’s an actual list. A long one.” Her friend stacked her hands a yard apart.
“Lists. Are. Everything.” Lizzy might as well have said,My precious.It wasn’t creepy at all.
“Not if they keep getting longer without anything getting checked off.” Shannon sighed and sank farther into her chair, too dejected to notice Lizzy’s brief transformation into Gollum.
“I can help you work through your list.” She bolted up from the crate with such gusto that it scraped loudly against the concrete floor. “Can you print out the list for me while I run to buy a shopkeeper’s bell?”
“Wow. You’re going to buy the bell now?”
“Yeah. Why not?” Lizzy could always shop online, but that meant she would have to wait for the bell to be delivered. Two-day shipping sounded like an eternity. “It’ll let us cross off an item from your list right away.”
“Ms. Lizzy,” Shannon said with a dazed smile, “you’re a force of nature.”
“Nah. I just like putting little check marks by list items. Almost as much as I like bullet points.” Lizzy was already at the back room door when she realized she had no idea where she was headed. “Just one thing. Where can I buy a shopkeeper’s bell?”
“Hmm. I would say your best bet is Arthur’s Hardware or Nickel Antique Shop.”
“Those stores can’t be as adorable as they sound.” She raised a skeptical eyebrow but sounded way too hopeful to pull it off.
“They aresoadorable. You’re going to die,” Shannon said with undisguised glee.
“I’ll die happy, then.” With a jaunty wave at her friend, Lizzy merrily headed to her demise.
Jack walked around the brewery, listlessly jiggling tables and chairs to see if any of them wobbled. No luck so far. He considered himself a patient man, but waiting for an answer was a special kind of torture. It was filled with hope and dread—both sweet and bitter. As long as he waited, there was hope that the answer would beyes.And that hope filled him with optimism, fueled his dreams, and propelled him forward. Yet there were times when he wanted an answer even if it was anojust to be put out of his misery—because the uncertainty and the fear ofnocould feel worse than the actualno.
All his musings, however, were a bit premature since he went on his second interview the day before. Well, maybe not exactly premature. He’d been searching for a job for more than six months now. The guilt of keeping it a secret from his family and being in limbo over what came next had begun to take a toll on him. If this opportunity with McBain Corporation didn’t pan out, should he continue searching for a new career or find a way to make things work at Weldon Brewery?
He suddenly felt claustrophobic standing inside the brewery and pushed his way out the front entrance. And there it was. His pride and joy. He crossed his arms over his chest and took in the resplendent outdoor seating area—it wasn’t the Gardens of Versailles, but it was pretty damn great. Getting the green light from the city was a pain in the ass, but he’d doggedly pursued it until it happened and dedicated months of his life into building the patio.
The wraparound patio hugged the front and side of the brewery, which stood on the corner of the street. To echo the theme of the brick-and-wood interior, the patio was lined with wooden picnic tables, which he’d built himself. Sandy-beige triangular shade sails protected the customers from the elements without detracting from the feel of the California outdoors, and the crisscross of string lights gave the seating area a festive vibe. The black heat lamps dotting the patio, which reminded him of old-fashioned streetlamps, made it feel a touch rustic and homey.
Perhaps it had been a last-ditch effort on his part to feel like an essential part of Weldon Brewery. It had occupied every minute of his free time to finish, but once he was done… he was done. A week later, he began submitting résumés.
He blew out a long breath, his cheeks expanding from the force, and buried his fingers in his hair. With his future undecided, all he could do was wait. Resisting the urge to fist his hands, he dropped his arms back down to his sides. In the meantime, he should focus on doing his best for Weldon Brewery. He went from heat lamp to heat lamp, checking the propane tanks. A couple of them felt light. It was still summer, but soon the evenings would start cooling down.
