Chapter 15

Wash972:

Morning, sunshine! Looks like another dreary day in Seattle. Wear your raincoat. (And no, that’s not a euphemism for sex, you dirty boy.)

ShopGuy24:

It’s way too early to be dealing with your nonsense.

Wash972:

Aw, did someone stay up too late?

ShopGuy24:

Somebody kept me up too late.

Wash972:

Poor baby. I’ll make it up to you by buying you a coffee.

ShopGuy24:

Still angling for that date, huh? It’s not happening.

Wash972:

Fine, we can just bump into each other at the usual time at Muddy Waters. By total accident.

ShopGuy24:

We do work in the same neighborhood. It’s bound to happen.

When I gotto Muddy Waters, Chase was waiting with an Americano for me and a raspberry mocha for him.

“We should really stop meeting this way,” he teased.

“It’s annoying how small the world is sometimes,” I agreed as I reached for the cup.

He held it out of my reach. “What do you say?”

“Thank you.” He relinquished the cup, and I muttered, “Asshole.”

“So cheery,” he said. “I thought you hated me when we met, but now I’m wondering if you’re like this every morning. You certainly like me much better at night.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

I took a swallow of coffee to hide the pulse of desire his flirty banter inspired.

Chase had come by the store for several more “strategy” sessions. Each time, despite my good intentions, I fell into bed with him. And when he wasn’t getting into my pants, he was texting me morning and night, reminding me that beneath that tailored suit, styled haircut, and snarky tongue was the guy I’d started falling for online before we ever met in person.

Chase held out a bag containing a breakfast sandwich. “For you and Briar.”

I opened the bag and inhaled the scent of bacon and egg. “You sure you don’t want one of these?”

“Oh, I ate my usual bagel while I waited for you. Got here a little early.”

“Thanks for thinking of Briar,” I said, touched by his thoughtfulness even though sometimes I wished he’d be the villain I’d cast him as when we first met. It’d be easier to blame him, rather than myself, for the struggles at my store.

“Of course. She’s a good kid.” He opened the door for me and we stepped outside, where a drizzling rain was coming down. “I should thank you for letting me vent about Gigi last night, too.”

“No problem. I’ve vented to you enough…about yourself.”

He snorted a laugh and reached over to flip up the hood of my coat, covering my hair from the rain.

“I’m glad you didn’t know it was me back then.”

“Why?”

“You wouldn’t have talked to me. And you needed someone to talk to. I needed you too.”

“Past tense?”

He smiled wryly. “Would you let me say it in present tense?”

My heart twisted. “Wash972 and ShopGuy24 will always be friends.”

“And what about Chase and Austin? Think they can ever be friends?”

“They’re getting there.”

When I got back to the store, Briar was waiting on a customer, one of our regulars. Three more came in before noon. It was shaping up to be a decent sales day.

Business had been up and down since Chase’s store opened. I saw fewer people coming in to browse new vinyl—especially those Swifties who’d been padding out my sales by buying every variation of her albums—but on the flip side, Fox Entertainment Zone brought a new clientele to the neighborhood, and a few of those customers made it across the street.

Chase could hurt Black Hole Records if he wanted. All he had to do was expand on his new inventory to make mine redundant and stop sending people my way. But he wasn’t the heartless corporate shill I’d expected when Fox opened.

He really wanted to be a good neighbor to me. Maybe even more.

Which made it all the harder to resist when he texted me that evening.

Wash972:

When should we get together to strategize again? And why does the word strategize make me horny?

ShopGuy24:

Cuz you’ve got a one-track mind.

Wash972:

Guilty.

ShopGuy24:

We really should stop meeting this way.

Wash972:

We’ve gotten some great brainstorming done, along with…other things. Why end the streak now?

ShopGuy24:

Fine, but I’m coming to your store so we stay on track. I never did get around to spying on you, so fair is fair.

Wash972:

No spying necessary. I’ll give you a tour =)

I headed over to Fox Entertainment Zone after my shop closed at six-thirty. The larger chain store kept later hours, which meant it would be open another hour and a half.

Plenty of time for a tour and brainstorming session that didn’t include any dicks.

It was my first time in Chase’s store, and it was about what I expected. Large, airy space, aisles of colorful merch, hanging signs directing shoppers toward Books, Games, Movies, Music, and Fandom. Two clerks worked the checkouts and another stood on a ladder, rearranging stock on the top shelves.

It wasn’t entirely the giant I’d blown it up to be in my mind. It was just one floor, and I could see the back wall from where I stood, reminding me that while Fox was a chain, it was a regional one that had started with a single store to its name.

Not so different from the rest of us.

Or maybe the orgasms with Chase had softened my brain. Also possible.

“Hey!” Chase strode toward me from the right, looking delicious in a tightly fitted navy blue suit. “You should have texted me that you were here.”

I tucked my hands into the pockets of my distressed jeans, suddenly feeling outclassed in my black T-shirt and leather jacket.

“I hadn’t seen the place yet. I wanted a minute or two to take it in before you worked your charm.”

“So you admit I’m charming,” he said with a grin.

“I admit you’re annoying.”

He laughed before turning and sweeping his gaze over the store. “So what do you think?” His smile went tight at the edges. “Is it as horrible as you thought?”

“Nah.” I pivoted on my heel to take it in. “I’ve only seen this view, but I’m sure I’d shop here if it weren’t for you being my competition.”

“There you go again with that dirty word. Come on, let me give you that tour.”

We breezed past the aisles with collectibles, including more Funko Pops than I ever thought I’d see in one place. I didn’t recognize many of the characters, but there was a Sonic in the mix. The movies section was more memorabilia than actual movies, but that made sense. Most people streamed these days. And the gaming department? Well, there was everything from game consoles to controllers to headsets, plus a large library of video games and board games. And to top it off, a couple of gaming chairs sat in front of a TV, with a demo game ready to play.

A kid with a mop of curly brown hair was kicked back, punching the controller’s buttons like a pro.

“These graphics are wicked good, man,” he said, clearly recognizing Chase.

“They get better all the time,” Chase said. “We close up soon. You got a ride home?”

“Yeah, yeah. My mom said she’d pick me up.”

He nodded. “All right. Come find me if she doesn’t show like last time. I don’t want you walking home in the dark.”

The kid, who had to be about fourteen, dragged his gaze from the TV, hero worship in his eyes. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

“You’ve got your own Briar, huh?” I joked when we’d left the aisle and started toward the music department.

“He’s a good kid. He doesn’t do any harm. We have an understanding that he’ll take a break if any other customers want to test out the gaming setup.”

“Still, not a lot of stores stand for loitering.”

Chase shrugged. “He buys things…now and then. Small little bits of merch.” He gave me a sheepish smile. “Just don’t tell Gigi.”

I laughed. “Okay, you got it.”

Chase led me toward the music department, and my gut tightened with nerves. I didn’t know if I wanted to see just how badly this store put my little shop to shame.

When we arrived, Chase swept his arm out like a game host. “This is it. Our entire collection.”

It was a good deal smaller than the gaming department. Band T-shirts covered the back wall. Framed concert photos, home décor-like signs that read Now Playing and clocks shaped like records filled a shelf. But none of that concerned me. There wasn’t a good profit margin for me in selling accessories.

I focused on the two record bins positioned back-to-back in the center of the space. They held new music and mostly only the best-selling artists.

I flipped through the albums, making mental note of what both stores had and where we didn’t overlap. “Hmm. Lots of Taylor Swift.”

“Well, of course,” he said. “Taylor sells.”

I nodded. Taylor would sell anywhere, but she’d probably sell even better here than in my store. Maybe I could scale back my orders to avoid any overstock.

“I see that brain whirring. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

I glanced sidelong at him, wary. “What?”

“We could coordinate, Austin.”

I scoffed. “You going to stop ordering Taylor to help me out?”

“No, that wouldn’t make sense. But we could share our plans with each other, strategize in how much we order. Maybe…” He hesitated.

“Say it.”

“You must make a lot more profit on your used collection.”

“True.”

“And I can send customers to you when they don’t find what they want. Tell them there’s a much larger catalog across the street.”

I wasn’t sure where this was going. “You’ve done that already, but—”

“But what if you let us take the risk of ordering and stocking the newest albums, and then when we have stock that hasn’t sold, we pass it on to you at a discount?”

I considered the idea. It was getting tougher to find the funds for new vinyl. A lot of distributors had minimum ordering requirements, meaning I had to stock more than I really needed. Without that pressure, I could invest in more personal collections of older records, find more gems that were worth the bigger bucks.

True, I might not always have the walk-in business to support that, but Briar had been working on adding more of our inventory to an online marketplace of record enthusiasts. We could expand online sales.

“It’s an interesting idea,” I admitted. “I don’t know if I want to give up on new releases or best sellers like Taylor though. That brings people to the shop.”

Chase nodded. “You still have to serve your customer base, and I have to serve mine. All I’m suggesting is that we could meet in the middle. Work a bit more collaboratively instead of competitively.”

My lips quirked. “Are you trying to get in my pants again?”

“Always. But I remember promising you a true strategy session. Shall we head to my office?”

“Lead the way.”