Steph stopped in front of the door and squared her shoulders, taking a deep breath. The cup tray was balanced precariously in one hand, her bag looped around her wrist, and she stared at the glazed glass and wished she could see through it.
After a moment, her free hand curled around the bronze doorknob, and she opened the door, the bell jingling cheerfully as she stepped inside. The carpet was soft under her feet, and she crept past shelf upon shelf stuffed full of books of all kinds. She skirted the fantasy shelf and approached the counter, where Jason sat, buried deep in the depths of Pride and Prejudice, a pen sticking out of his mouth.
"Hi," Steph said, and he looked up, his face breaking out into a grin.
"Hi," he said, pulling the pen from his mouth and gingerly placing his tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice aside. "What do you need help with today?"
"I come bearing gifts," Steph gave him an awkward grin, holding out the cup tray. In it were three steaming drinks, shorthand scribbled on the side of each one. "You said you wanted to get a coffee sometime, and I needed some way to thank you for the textbook."
Jason's grin widened, and he reached for the cup tray, setting it down on the counter. He turned each cup over, reading the scribbled notes on each one.
"Vanilla latte, four sugars," he said. "I'm gonna assume that's you."
"Correct," Steph said. He handed her the cup.
"Cappuccino, two sugars," he said next. "Is that for me?"
"It sure is," Steph replied. He grinned and took a sip from it, closing his eyes and savouring the taste.
"Are these from Cool Beans?"
"Yeah," Steph said, smiling. "Best coffee in Gotham."
"I'll drink to that," Jason laughed. "What's the last one, then?"
"A hot chocolate," Steph said. "I wasn't sure if Sasha drinks coffee, so I got something I thought was a safe bet."
Jason smiled, secretly pleased that Steph had thought of, and included, Sasha when she was buying coffee. Steph took a shy sip of her latte, smiling into her drink. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, holding their drinks in their hands, before Steph tucked a blonde strand behind one ear and asked, "Where is Sasha, anyway?"
"Oh, uh," Jason said, shifting in place. "She's at an appointment, but she'll be back to start her shift soon."
"Good," Steph said. "The hot chocolate might be cool enough to drink by then."
A jingle sounded through the shop, and Steph half-turned to see a uniformed man wheeling a trolley piled high with boxes down the carpeted hall. He manoeuvred it through the shelves until he got to the counter, sliding the trolley out from beneath the pile of boxes with a solid thud as they hit the floor.
"Delivery," he drawled. "Sign here."
Jason took the clipboard and scrawled his name, handing it back and facing down the boxes with a grin. As the delivery man left, Jason hauled the top box up onto the counter, shoving aside the bags already piled on there. Steph watched as he pulled a black-and-silver switchblade from his pocket, flicked it open with a fluid movement that spoke to years of practice, and sliced the tape on top of the box with three deft movements.
It was, in a word, hot.
Steph hid her smirk with her coffee as Jason started piling books onto the counter space, tossing the empty box aside and using his knife to pry open the next one. He kept adding books to the counter, before he looked up and said, "You wanna give me a hand?"
Steph blinked, and set her coffee aside, stepping behind the counter and facing down the stacks of books. She did what she'd always done in the library when they got in new stock: she started organising by genre, then author surname, then, when it came to the nonfiction, by Dewey decimal. Jason watched from the corner of his eye as she shuffled the science fiction to fit in an Arthur C. Clarke novel he'd been meaning to read. He sliced open the last box and tucked his switchblade back into his pocket, pulling out a stack of books and balancing them precariously on the edge of the counter.
"You're good at that," Jason said, watching Steph grab two biology textbooks and sliding them in underneath the chemistry books. "Did you work in a library?"
"Last year," Steph replied, shuffling a pile of fiction so it wouldn't topple over. "One of my professors was a librarian, she put in a good word for me at the campus library."
"Not anymore?" Jason asked.
Steph made a face. "Budget cuts."
Jason only had to think for half a second before the words spilled out of his mouth.
"Do you want a job?"
"What?" Steph looked up from the fantasy book in her hands.
"Do you want a job?" Jason repeated, more earnestly this time. "I could use another set of hands around the store."
Steph blinked. Of course she wanted a job. She needed a job, with everything that was going on. Working here would be a dream come true - not only for the eye candy, but also for the shelves upon shelves of books, the customers, and getting to flex her literary knowledge on Jason every now and then.
Maybe she'd impress him.
"Steph?" Jason waved a hand in front of her face. "Did I break you?"
"Yes," Steph said. "Wait, no. No, you didn't break me. Yes, I want a job."
Jason's face broke out in a grin.
"I have some questions," Steph cautioned. "What's the hourly rate?"
"Fifteen dollars, paid in cash," Jason replied. With a wink, he said, "I won't tell the IRS if you won't."
Steph thought for a second. "I get to take any books out of the storeroom to read as long as I bring them back."
"Out of the storeroom, off the shelves, I don't care where in the store you find it, if you want to read it, you can take it home as long as you like," Jason said earnestly.
Steph held out a hand. "Deal," she said, struggling to keep the grin off her face. Jason looked down at her hand, his eyes lighting up.
"Deal," he exclaimed, clasping their hands together. His hand was strong, and curled around hers with a sturdy grip, giving it a single shake before letting her go and swiping what remained of his coffee off the counter for a sip. He was smiling to himself, casting glances down at her as she finished organising the piles of books before them.
"When do you want me to start?" Steph asked. In reply, Jason held out a pencil, gesturing to the unmarked books scattered across the counter.
"Price them," he said. "Four dollars for a paperback, six for a hardcover. Use your discretion when it comes to textbooks and nonfiction."
"Gotcha," Steph said, leaning over and flipping open the first book.
Jason, with a pencil of his own, started at the other end of the counter, working quietly. They both looked up as they heard the familiar jingle that indicated someone was coming through the door, but it was only Sasha, marching in with her tote bag around one shoulder and her phone in hand.
Sasha dropped the bag behind the counter, a few coloured pencils and a paintbrush spilling out of it, and turned to look between Jason and Steph. She squared her jaw, and said, "What is she doing?"
"Hello to you too, Sasha," Jason said, choosing to ignore the teenager's attitude. "Steph is pricing the books. She'll be working with us from now on."
Sasha rolled her eyes, but made no remark.
"Steph got you a hot chocolate," Jason said, nodding to the cup sitting next to the cash register. Sasha picked it up and took a swig, pulling a face.
"Not very hot," she said.
"Well, you should have gotten here faster," Jason said, just as Steph chimed in with a "Sorry, I wasn't sure how long you'd be gone."
Sasha rolled her eyes again, and Steph felt a stab of anxiety. She tried to tell herself it was just a teenage thing - when she was that age, she'd have screaming matches with her parents that could be heard halfway across the neighbourhood - but there was still that clawing feeling that Sasha didn't like her, and she couldn't pinpoint why it bothered her so much.
After a few moments, Sasha, hot chocolate in hand, mumbled a "Thank you," and brushed past Steph on her way to the storeroom.
Jason huffed as he watched her go.
"Is she always like that?" Steph asked, sliding a pile of priced merchandise down the counter to move on to the next.
"Pretty much always," Jason replied. "She's been worse the past couple of months. I think she misses her dad."
Steph wanted to dig into that statement, and ask more questions about the nature of Sasha and Jason's arrangement, but she knew it was neither the time nor place, and certainly not within her purview; she had, after all, only known these people for a matter of days, and if it was going to concern her, she would find out in time.
Wordlessly, Steph scooped up the pile of science fiction and worked her way down the rows of shelves, searching for the right one. Two across from fantasy, she found it, and without much fanfare she began shelving them, sliding in the Clarkes next to the Cards, the lone Jemisin by the Jones.
A few rows deep into the general fiction, Jason was trying to squeeze a Honeyman in between Hawkins and Hudson. He glanced over to where Steph, distracted, was reorganising the fantasy with a keen eye. He chuckled, ever-charmed by this determined college student, and called across the store, "So what's your availability?"
Steph looked up from the stack of books in hand. "I have class Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, but I'm free Monday, Friday and most weekends."
"Great," Jason said, and Steph was surprised to see relief wash over his face. "Fridays and weekends are my busiest days. I could really use the help."
"Fridays and weekends it is," Steph grinned. "What about Mondays?"
"That's up to you," Jason said. "If you come in and work, I'll pay you, but don't feel obligated."
"Gotcha," Steph replied, sliding the last book in her stack onto the shelf. She made her way over to Jason, fishing her phone out of her pocket. "Here. Put your number in so I can let you know if I'm not coming in."
"Sure," Jason started typing in his details. "You can text me for anything, though, if you want to. It doesn't just have to be about work."
Steph gave him a shy smile, one side of her mouth curling upwards as she tucked a blonde strand behind her ear. "We'll see."
She took her phone back, to see the contact Jason had made. It read, simply, JASON, no last name, with his number saved underneath. She typed off a rapid text, tapping send, and Jason's phone dinged.
He pulled it out, and read, "What light through yonder window breaks?"
Steph smirked at him, and he looked up at her, his mouth twitching into an uncertain smile.
"Does that make you Juliet?" He asked.
"You tell me, Romeo," Steph said.
Hearing a loud cough come from behind them, they each jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of Sasha. She looked between them, one eyebrow arched in a delicate upwards curve, and said, "There is a customer at the counter."
"Right," Jason said. He looked over at Steph, who looked back at him, wide-eyed and with a flushed face, and said, "Right," once more before making his way to the counter. Steph heard him start up the small talk with the customer, who neither of them had even heard come in, and took a deep breath to steady herself.
Steph's phone trilled, and she looked down at it, scanning the message quickly. She swore under her breath and tucked her phone away, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead.
"You're leaving," Sasha said.
Steph looked over to the teenager, pursing her lips. "Yeah. Can you let Jason know something's come up?"
Sasha's eyebrows quirked upwards, but she gave Steph a single nod, turning on her heel and marching away, her combat boots thumping softly against the carpeted floor. Steph made her way back to the counter, from whence Jason had vanished, neither him nor the customer anywhere to be seen, and gathered her things. She downed the last of her latte, stone cold, and swallowed, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. Steph took one last lingering look around the bookstore, the place she hoped was about to become as familiar to her as home, and made her way outside.
Oracle had a lead for her, and she intended to follow it.
