We've made it to chapter thirty! That's insane! I mean there's still a lot more to come but thirty chapters is a lot and this book has basically written itself so far. It's FLYING by. I hope you're having as much fun as me. Love you guys,

-Lyss.

Monday morning comes and I can't help but feel chipper and excited for yet another day off the clock. I told Sam that I would look into finding Mr. Ward and potentially send him an email today but, other than that, I have no plans for the day and I'm living for it.

As you can probably imagine, I like being home and I love being in my element. So days off where I am free to sit at home are something that I thoroughly enjoy.

I spend half the day watching Netflix and drinking tea so by the time four o'clock rolls around, I feel extra lazy and I know that it's time to do something productive no matter how much the idea aggravates me.

"Okay." I sigh, settling into my spot on the couch with my laptop open and fresh hot tea in my hand.

I use one hand to type out one name; Mr. Ward. It's unfortunate that I don't know his full name but after some searching and adding the bookstore's name to the end of the search, a newspaper article comes up, catching my interest. My eyes squint to read the fine print.

In an unfortunate car accident, Jared Richard Ward the First passed away on Tuesday, March Twelfth of 2019. His successor and son, Jared Richard Ward the Second, has been passed the baton of the family business and, according to him, there will be a lot of changes being made even within the next six months.

The young fresh-out-of college student is keeping anything that has to do with his father's business and the new changes very quiet but as soon as he talks, we'll know and you'll hear it here first.

The short article brings a fog of confusion over my mind. Blinking at my screen, I reread it.

Mr. Ward is dead? Why didn't Amelia say anything to me? I have a right to know if Books and Bagels has a new owner. This does change things as far Sam and I's plan to try and convince him to keep the store open.

We could have relied on the fact that Mr. Ward had put so much work and years into the bookstore to weigh his decision to our side but now that his son has been forced to take up the mantel, our chances have lessened significantly.

Besides, he just lost his dad three months ago. We would have to be heartless to bother him with business at a time like this.

Then again, he's wasted no time acting on his decisions to make changes to his dad's - well his - empire. And there's not much time to act so I may have no other choice but to speak with him anyway.

I change my search to "Jared Richard Ward the Second" and finally find a website dedicated to him. It includes options to see all of the locations he personally owns, a section for graphic designing (which I find random), and a list of options for contacting him or his office.

Pulling up his business email, seeing as there is no personal, I begin to type. I pause every so often and erase things that make me sound too unprofessional or too much like a young schoolgirl. When I'm done, I reread it three times and hit send.

After rereading it about one hundred more times as I chew on my thumb nail, I decide to send it to Sam and ask her if what I've said is acceptable. I somehow feel that getting a meeting with him hangs on this very email.

It takes a few minutes but she replies with a thumbs up and assures me that I've portrayed our request to discuss the fate of the bookstore with maturity and class. This comes as a relief to me as I close my laptop and set it aside, releasing a large breath before taking a sip of my tea.

"Well that's that I suppose." I mumble to myself, "Now we wait for a reply."

✰✰✰

"There wasn't much else you could have done." Sam shrugs on Tuesday morning. The gloomy skies outside the glass door and dark clouds set the mood of the day; sad.

I haven't received a reply to my email and, though it's only been twenty-four hours, I'm growing impatient. Each day keeps slipping through the hourglass and, before I know it, the month will be over. The time for action is now.

"I know but what if my email just gets sent to junk mail or his assistant doesn't make it a priority? It's possible that my email won't be answered for weeks." I tell her, exasperated as we stand in line for our daily dosage of the in-house baked bagels.

Sam squints at the glass display case as she folds her arms across her chest. "It's only been a day, Lillian. Trust me, everything will be fine. It'll all work out."

"I know I know." I huff, following her gaze to the fresh and hot bagels being placed in the case. "Now I just want some of our famous strawberry cream cheese to make me feel better."

"Make that a double." She grins, turning and ordering for the both of us.

"I just don't understand why I'm so nervous about this." I shake my palms a little as I hang my head back and stare at the ceiling, releasing a large breath through my lips.

Sam hands over a five dollar bill and I hand over mine as she chuckles lightly, "Because this is something you're passionate about but, apparently, your passion is accompanied by impatience."

I say nothing and instead give her a sharp teasing glare because I know that I can't deny her accusation. I do tend to get overzealous and can't seem to wait for whatever I've set my mind on.

"Girls." A familiar voice speaks behind us. I turn around, a gentle smile gracing my lips as I take in Amelia and her usual comfy sweater.

"What's up?" I ask, taking my bagel from Sam's hands, licking the smudge of strawberry cream cheese from my thumb.

Our manager releases a seemingly stressful sigh, staring down at her new IPhone X that doesn't quite match the grandma next door vibe she's got going on. "I'm so sorry but I won't need either of you to come in tomorrow. I know you'd like the hours but there's nothing I can do."

"Why?" Sam asks through a mouthful of breakfast food, her perfect brows creasing in the center.

I watch as Amelia scrolls through the phone, glaring at the screen. "I just got an email from Mr. Ward and apparently he's in town. He wants me to shut down the store for the day tomorrow so he can do a walk through and take inventory. Which means he just wants to see the place and figure out how much he can get for it." She scoffs, locking the cell phone and dropping her hand to her side in defeat.

"He's really in a hurry to get rid of us." I mumble, suddenly losing my appetite as I look down at my food.

A hand is placed on my bicep comfortingly and I smile in Sam's direction as she gives me her wide comforting brown eyes. "If he's here then that means we have a chance to change his mind. He's in our territory."

"Technically it's his territory." I chuckle, feeling a bit better seeing that she isn't the least bit worried.

"Well either way, I think you should talk to him. Can she come here tomorrow for the walk through?" Sam turns to Amelia before I can protect, my lips parting slightly as my eyes widen.

"I suppose that would be fine - "

"Woah woah." I step in, "Why me? You work here too."

"Yeah for like two seconds." She snorts, "You could run this place. You know the ins and the outs and you're an important asset to his company. He has to hear you out." Her eyes plead with me.

I look over at Amelia who gives me an encouraging smile and a nod. "And I don't have the passion that you do. You have fresh eyes and a new perspective. He wouldn't believe me if I told him the place could be turned around."

"Okay." I sigh, my shoulders slouching and my stomach twisting with nerves, "What time will he be here?"

"Noon." She tells me, "So be here at eleven thirty."

"Got it." I mumble, not loving this plan so far.

"You're going to do great." Sam tells me, taking a large cheeky bite from her bagel and chewing profusely.

"Yeah okay." I laugh darkly, "It's not like the fate of the bookstore and everyone's jobs rests in my hands or anything."

"Don't be so melodramatic." Amelia waves off my attitude, "But while your at it, ask for a raise?"

"I don't need a raise, my pay is fine."

"No I mean for me." She winks before cackling and walking away, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye." Sam laughs, watching her go while I shake my head in disapproval.

"Am I the only one who is actually worried about Books and Bagels? Amelia doesn't even seem to care." I groan, taking a seat around one of the tables.

"Of course not." Sam sits next to me with a shocked expression, "I already love this place so much and I would hate for my job to end here so soon. And Amelia? Are you kidding me? She's been making phone calls nonstop trying to help us. I think that the two of us just understand that some things are beyond our control and that's where we just have to trust that everything will work out." She smiles softly.

"I don't mean to worry the way I do." I confess sadly.

My friend pauses for a moment before placing her hand on mine and looking at me calmly, "Lillian, there's no point in worrying. It's like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but it takes you nowhere."

I look over at her, puzzled. "Since when did you get so wise?"

"Since I started dating Winter." Her grins breaks through as she laughs.

"Of course." I chuckle along with her, "How is he by the way? I feel like I've gotten closer to you and your brother but I've hardly spoken to Winter."

Sam begins to smile cheekily, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip. "He's fantastic as always. He can be an idiot but at least he puts up with me." She shrugs, playing off the fact that she so obviously gushes each time someone says the guy's name.

"Someone's in love." I tease, happy to have the attention off of me.

"Obviously." She rest her face against her fist, "How can I not be? I mean, have you seen the man?"

"I have." I laugh, amused by her lovestruck demeanor. "He seems like your type."

"Well I'm glad he's not yours." Sam's eyes glint teasingly, "Because I'm starting to think your type is blonde and annoying."

"Shut up this is not about Dakota." I shove her arm lightly.

Her brows raise with a certain satisfaction, "I never said anything about my brother." She leans back in her seat.

My cheeks immediately heat up and I clear my throat, "Huh. I guess I figured you were leaning that way."

"Oh I was." She admits, "But seeing your face light up like a red lightbulb when I say his name is pretty entertaining."

"I can't believe you." I deadpan, shaking my head, "You're supposed to be my friend."

Sam raises her hands in surrender, "Hey I just call it like it see it. If it walks like a duck etcetera etcetera."

"You can keep all of your ducks in the cage because the chick isn't looking for a rooster." I snort.

"That's a lot of bird metaphors to avoid admitting your feelings." She tests me further with a small smile, knowing she's getting under my skin.

"I have no feelings, I am an android." I speak monotonously before standing up and shouldering my back. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to wait for Dakota outside."

"Oh I forgot to mention, I'm not going with you two today. Winter is picking me and we're going to go see a movie." Sam smiles excitedly as if spending time with her boyfriend is quite possibly the best thing in the entire world. I'd also be lying if I said that they're sickening love for one another isn't a little endearing to me.

"Okay leave me to deal with him on my own why don't you." I say dramatically.

"Oh shut up he was probably waiting for the moment where I'd leave you alone so he can make his move. He'll probably take you to the park and try to smooch you." She puckers her full lips at me mockingly.

"Ew." My nose scrunches, "Who says smooch anymore?"

"Me. And don't think I didn't notice the fact that you didn't deny it!" Sam hollers after me as I step into the elevator, waving with a bright fake smile.

"Don't think that I care." I wink.

✰✰✰

As soon as we pull up to the park I'm laughing ironically to myself, Sam's words ringing annoyingly in my mind. Obviously the situation is nothing like she insinuated, I just find it amusing that she spoke of the park above all other locations. She must be aware of her brother's tendencies to sneak away and take some time to himself here.

"What's with the face?" Dakota gives me the once over with a dry tone in his deep voice.

I quickly recover, making an effort to straighten my face. "Nothing. Just ready to beat you to the swings." I smirk, unbuckling my seatbelt and jumping out of the vehicle in one swift movement as I leave him behind.

Soon after, I hear his breathing behind me as he strains to catch up with me. I don't worry myself over his closeness because I've almost reached my destination, my hand reaching out to grasp the chain of the swing, the seat flinging from the force.

"That's not fair, you cheated." Dakota breathes, taking a seat with a frown.

"I still won." I grin smugly but he just shakes his head and smiles as if I'm a young misunderstanding child.

"Fine. You won." He chuckles, forcing his heels against the ground.

I pause for a moment, squinting at the bright sun shining through the trees and listening to the birds chirp their own language among themselves. "So why exactly are we here?" I ask him curiously.

Dakota shrugs, hanging his head back, "I figured that since you've been worrying about the store so much lately, you might want to escape and just relax for a moment."

I consider this, furrowing my brows. "Huh. I guess I haven't thought about needing some air. Thanks." My eyes meet his gratefully.

"What are friends for, right?" He asks me softly.

"Right." I nod once, trying to subtly decipher his tone. "So...we found out that the owner is here."

"Mr. Wade?"

"Ward." I correct with a small laugh, "Yes him. And something I found out is that it's actually the original owner's son. Apparently it runs in the family to own the place but he doesn't exactly want to carry the torch."

"What happened to his dad?" He asks me, kicking at a piece of tar.

"Car accident." I reply.

He whistles lowly, "That's terrible. No wonder he doesn't want the place anymore."

"What do you mean? You'd think that he'd like to keep something that his father worked so hard to preserve." My tone comes out with a controlled defense.

"Or maybe he's eager to sell it to someone who really cares to put the time and effort into running it so that he can fully mourn his father's death. Let's not forget the real loss, Lillian. The store is a building but his dad is dead." Dakota says slowly as if hesitant to offend me.

Shame and guilt fill me as my eyes are cast to the ground. "You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so selfish."

"You're far from selfish." His hand is placed on my shoulder, "You just lost focus on what really matters."

"Thank you." I look at him with a thankful expression, my gaze locking onto his deep green eyes.

He gives me his signature crooked grin, "Don't mention it. Now, what do you say to a couple of milkshakes?"

"I say bring it on."

"With pleasure."