With a snort, Hannah crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “You’ve been talking to Xander.”
With a cryptic smile, Zora packed up her deck. “My spiritual guidance is confidential. But suppose a handsome newcomer came to see me, all tied in knots, because the woman he cares for won’t give him a chance? And suppose all signs point toward an advantageous match for both of them? Wouldn’t it be my responsibility to encourage one of the smartest, stubbornest, most loyal people I’ve ever met to look at things from a different angle?”
“For frick’s sake, Zora.” She tempered her language out of respect. “You’re such a matchmaker.”
“Not at all. Who you let into your heart is your affair and no one else’s. I just want my loved ones to be happy.” She squeezed Hannah’s hand. “Use that regal Leo creativity and determination to overcome whatever dilemma’s been spinning your wheels. Leos can’t flourish when they’re confined.”
“What does my star sign have to do with—”
Ignoring her question, Zora fluttered off with excuses about being late for an appointment.
“Just want you to be happy,” Hannah grumbled as she wrapped up against the chilly wind. But Zora’s words swirled with Mom’s, itching under her skin as she set off for Schooner Lane.
Xander lit a pine-scented candle he’d picked up from the Sea Queen Spa’s gift shop. Then blew it out. Then lit it again. If he looked, or smelled, like he was trying too hard, she might be put off. But after ruining their last date, he really wanted Hannah to like his new temporary home.
When Cheryl Rossi suggested this renovated RV as another cheap option, he’d nearly walked out of her office in frustrated disbelief. But a nagging voice urged him to take a look before turning it down. Good thing he had, because this cozy vintage camper was perfect—freshly repainted and refurnished with white walls and cabinets, wooden flooring, a snug dinette, comfy couch, queen-size bed, hanging plants, and a skylight that let in sunlight filtered through the surrounding pines. Less than a block from Shoreline Road, the RV court smelled of sea and green and resurrected happy memories of childhood visits to Uncle Gus.
Besides, since they were months away from Trappers Cove’s high season, the two sisters who were rehabbing old RVs into tourist lodgings gave him an excellent deal. And God knows he needed every penny of capital if he hoped to reopen the shop by Memorial Day.
Because opening for spring break? Not gonna happen. Already, it was mid-March. Necessary repairs to the building were barely started, and he was still at sea regarding the shop’s new branding and focus. Not just at sea, bobbing in the Bermuda Triangle.
He crunched another of Garrett’s iced cookies and pushed the rest aside. At this rate, he’d gobble them all out of sheer nervousness before Hannah arrived.
Turning his attention to the papers strewn across the dinette table, he flipped open a cracked plastic binder labeledFor Xander. It was a miracle he ever found it, since Gus had left it in a moldy cardboard box beneath brochures from a half-dozen UFO organizations.
“Thought you’d have more time, eh Gus?” He thumbed through painstakingly drawn diagrams overlaid with spirals representing… Cosmic energy? Gamma rays? Hannah could help him figure it out. He had a hunch she was the sort of person who couldn’t resist a puzzle. Or a challenge.
“She sure as shit can resist me, though.” With a sigh, he pushed the papers away and opened his laptop to his growing list of potential merchandise for Souvenir Planet 2.0. Thank the intergalactic gods, Gus’s will didn’t stipulate anything about keeping the name, just the cosmic transmitter.
“So, what to call you, sweetheart?” Something Greek would be nice, to reflect their family’s heritage. The Agora? Would shoppers know that means “marketplace”? No, the name had to be catchier, more accessible. “Shoptopia? Marketplace of Mysteries? Bazaar of…ugh.” He clicked another tab. No use trying to name the place when he still had no idea what he planned to sell.
A Steve Jobs quote from his college marketing classes stuck in his memory: “The only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle.”
Xander tapped his stylus on the table. “That’s my problem, Steve. I love lots of things, but I’m an expert in nothing. Not wine, not gourmet food, and definitely not beach souvenirs.” He closed his eyes and massaged his temples. “Come on, inner wisdom, hit me with some inspiration.”
No answer except for the sound of female voices outside—probably the Delaney sisters, his landladies, arguing about building materials again. At least they weren’t running their table saw today. Another voice joined in, forming a three-part harmony between Diane’s raspy laugh, Donna’s high-pitched giggle, and the newcomer’s mellower tone.
He grinned. “Harmony. I like that.” He didn’t have to settle on just one type of merchandise as long as he found a common thread, a theme to inspire his brand and his store’s name.
“So, what connects you guys?” He ticked through his list of typical tourist fodder not yet peddled in Trappers Cove.
designer pet gear
high-end leather goods
smelly candles and luxury bath stuff
