Chapter 2

“I’m bored,”Lacy complained, her rosebud mouth sagging along with her ponytail as she gazed up at me with big brown eyes that rivaled my Bennie’s.

Bennie being my dog. Sadly, I wasn’t on possessive terms with any men. Given how much time I’d sunk into launching this new store in my family’s small chain of Washington businesses—not to mention the energy it took to persuade my grandmother it was a good idea to expand our brand from books to broader entertainment—there was no time for romantic pursuits.

“Did you check out the games inventory?” I asked. “We’re not just a bookstore anymore. It’s pretty cool. We’ve got some Fortnite Funko Pops.”

“I already looked at everything,” she said flatly.

“Dang, you’re a tough customer. Let’s hope the people who come in when we open are more excited, huh?”

She blinked up at me, waiting for me to cave to her wishes. And cave I did.

“All right, let’s go for a walk.” I grabbed my leather jacket off the back of the office chair where I’d been checking spreadsheets, which was about the most action I got in any sheets these days. Most nights, I was too tired for much more than a conversation anyway. “We can explore the neighborhood.”

AKA check out the competition.

Not that I’d tell Lacy that. She’d be even less impressed with me than she already was after an hour spent in a half-filled department store. I loved taking her for a day here and there to give my sister and her husband a break, but there was just so damn much to do.

My grandmother made it clear I’d have only one shot at turning around the business. If the experimental shift from books to broader entertainment failed, she’d sell the whole chain and start her retirement.

But that wouldn’t happen, because Fox Entertainment Zone would open in two weeks, and it would be a success. I’d chosen the location carefully, a spot that brought in retail shoppers in the right income bracket. It had nothing to do with the fact that this little Union Heights district was just a few blocks removed from the queer-centric Capitol Hill and I wouldn’t mind a little more eye candy in my life.

Lacy and I headed outside, and I wasn’t an irredeemable workaholic. I let her take the lead, skipping along the sidewalk, venturing into a little mini-park between buildings, and eventually checking out a tween boutique filled with short, slinky dresses that looked far too grown up, dressy heels, tiara headbands, and bottles of sparkly nail polish.

I supposed it was fair payment for all the time I’d kept Lacy in my store that I now had to take my niece on a shopping spree. I just thanked my stars that she was six and none of the expensive clothes would fit her. She wore a Taylor Swift bracelet made of teal-and-pink beads out of the store. I thought for sure she’d go for the tiara, but Lacy had informed me, in a snooty aristocratic tone, that she wasn’t interested in being a princess. She wanted to be a pop star.

Duh.

We explored the rest of the block then crossed the street and headed back the other direction. I almost walked right past the record store, but even through the tinted window, my gaze caught on the guy inside, struck by the wide grin on his face.

The door was a simple metal but plastered with stickers—so many that there were probably ten layers of them placed there over the years. A decal on the window read Black Hole Records, but otherwise there were no signs.

“Let’s go in here,” I suggested.

Lacy followed me in. I thought she might drag me back out as soon as she saw the record bins, but she spotted a glass case full of stickers and made a beeline for it—and the gorgeous man I’d glimpsed through the window.

He was still laughing at something his employee had said, a dark-headed teen with an eclectic style. His style, though, was a classic record store look: black jeans, tight black T-shirt, tattoo peeking out from under one short sleeve, and a leather bracelet on his left wrist. Yum.

“Hi, welcome,” he said. “Let me know if you need help finding anything. We’ve got new and used vinyl, CDs, cassettes, and—as your little girl has already discovered—lots of stickers.”

“Oh, she’s—”

“He’s not my dad! He’s gay!” she exclaimed, having no filter.

I winced. “TMI, Lacy. We’ve talked about this.”

“Oops, sorry, Uncle Chase.”

“That’s okay, kiddo.”

The store clerk—store owner?—chuckled, and I watched his expression to see if there was any telltale flare of interest in the fact I was gay, but sadly, there was not. Probably straight, then.

It was for the best. I really didn’t have time to start something. But even a quick hookup instead of porn and my right hand would have been a nice change of pace.

Ah well. Time to focus on what I’d come to see: not the gorgeous, twenty-something clerk or his teenage assistant, but the store itself. It carried a great selection of music, both new and used, far better than anything Fox Entertainment Zone would have.

Maybe I should add to our inventory…

We didn’t carry anything used, and clearly Black Hole Records would always have a more eclectic selection than us. I spotted a great indie section of regional musicians, jazz and blues, even spoken word. But their new stuff was sparser, and that was something I could capitalize on.

But not yet. I’d already hit my budget for the opening.

“You have a Taylor bracelet too!”

Lacy’s squeal jerked me out of my mental reverie. I turned, a Tom Petty album in my hand. Lacy was chattering with the teenager store clerk, and gorgeous record store man? He was right in front of me.

Damn, he smelled good too. Earthy and fresh, with hints of citrus and sandalwood.

“That’s a great album,” he said. “I love Tom Petty.”

“Oh.” I glanced down. “Yeah. You’ve got a great selection here. I don’t see a single thing I don’t want.”

I brazenly stared at him, eyes stuck on that amazing smile.

“Uh, thanks,” he said. “We do what we can.”

I grabbed a second album, ignoring the puzzled look he gave me when I picked up a metal band. I took them both to the checkout. “I’ll take these.”

“Okay, great.” He went behind the counter to work the credit-card machine.

“I didn’t catch your name,” I said, trying on my best flirty tone as I handed him my credit card. “Pretty sure I can’t leave here without that piece of information.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Austin Kelly, the owner of this little place.” He glanced down at my card. “And you’re…Chase Fox.”

His smile disappeared. Uh-oh. Maybe I should have paid with cash. His smile had dazzled me too much to consider that he might recognize my name.

His eyes narrowed on me. “Chase Fox as in…Fox Entertainment Zone? Opening right across the street and threatening to put me out of business?”

“Uh…well, I wouldn’t put it that way,” I said, squirming like a naughty schoolboy even though putting this place out of business had never entered my mind.

Surely, we could co-exist. There had to be enough business for a retro vinyl store and an entertainment hub. Yes, we might undercut him on new vinyl, but he had all these used records, this amazing atmosphere, a quintessential feeling to the place that Fox Entertainment would never have.

He finished the transaction and handed my card back to me. “You should get going. Do you need a receipt?”

“No, but thanks.” I turned to Lacy. “Come on, let’s go get some ice cream.”

“Ice cream!” she exclaimed, streaking toward the door.

I chuckled and glanced at Austin, but he was grinding his teeth too much to give me another smile, so I hightailed it for the exit like a coward.

I tried to step out too quickly, caught the bag of tween accessories in the door, then sheepishly glanced back to see Austin watching me.

“Good thing we don’t have the ice cream yet. That would really be a mess.”

“Yeah,” he echoed. “A mess. Don’t want that.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, sighing. I certainly had made a mess of this first meeting, hadn’t I?

But Lacy was speeding down the sidewalk and I couldn’t linger and try to repair the damage I’d done.

Even if Austin’s smile was the most enticing thing I’d seen since setting out to prove the Fox brand could survive in changing times.