Friends and Foes

  Friends and Foes

  A Read Wine Bookstore Cozy Mystery Book 1

  Laina Turner

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  Laina

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Thanks for Reading

  Also by Laina Turner

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  “I told you Facebook was the devil. Life was much simpler when we didn’t live it in front of everyone. Like back when we were twelve and we passed notes that couldn’t go viral. Or being made to feel like we aren’t enough when looking at everyone’s highlight reel.”

  “Yeah, but then we didn’t know what everybody’s doing every minute of every day.” My best friend, Sally, laughed. “I don’t know how we used to survive without knowing who was having what for dinner. Much less all the other things people post that they really should keep to themselves. Like when Peter Dyer commented on Teresa Green’s post of the picture of her in a bathing suit, saying she looked hot. And his wife saw it? He’s lucky he’s still alive.”

  “Facebook has really brought out the stupid in people. Like his wife wasn’t going to find out. And when she did, what did he think would happen?” I shook my head, thinking about his stupidity.

  We were sitting in my kitchen doing some Facebook stalking, though since people put it all out there for everyone to see it wasn’t exactly stalking. Just looking. Why? We were bored, and after a few glasses of wine, it seemed like a good idea. Maybe find someone we could live vicariously through. It was harmless and quite entertaining, until Sally decided to see what her ex was up to and found herself confronted with a bunch of pictures of Tom and his girlfriend. The woman he’d cheated on her with, and who’d ruined Sally’s marriage. ‘Sylvia the slut,’ Sally called her. Sally tried to put on a brave face and pretend seeing the pictures didn’t bother her, but I could tell it did. They’d been together for a long time, and had kids together, so it wasn’t easy for her to get over.

  My name is Trixie Pristine. I got saddled with the unfortunate perky-blonde-bimbo- sounding name because my mother, an avid reader, loved Trixie Belden books as a kid. I always held it against my dad that he wasn’t able to talk her out of it. It had made junior high school a living hell. Pristine was the leftover surname from my ex, but my maiden name, Gradowski, was nothing I cared to go back to. At least people could spell Pristine. My brown hair and dark brown eyes just didn’t fit with the name Trixie, or Trix as my friends called me. And yes, I’d heard my fair share of “Trix are for kids” cracks growing up. With a name like this, I should be blonde with a perfectly groomed appearance and big boobs, but that more aptly described my friend Sally.

  Even after three kids, she looked fantastic. If she wasn’t one of my best friends I’d hate her. Considering my plain brown hair, rarely finding the ability to put together an outfit that made me look my best, and average boobs, I considered myself ordinary. Though I’d had my share of compliments, so I guess I shouldn’t complain.

  I’m thirty-eight and divorced, with an eight-year-old son. I’m the librarian at the local library. Not the most exciting job on the planet, but it paid the bills. I have a good boyfriend and great friends. Thank goodness I have good friends who are always my saving grace. Even if we do pass the time Facebook stalking.

  “I don’t know what I saw in that jerk anyways,” Sally said, drawing me back into our conversation from my daydreaming.

  “So why are we even looking at his Facebook page?”

  “You’re right. Why torture myself like this?” She closed the lid to my laptop and took another drink of her wine. “By the way, this red Moscato is really good.”

  “I know. What makes it even better is it was on sale for five bucks a bottle with an additional ten percent off. I bought ten bottles.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. I had to take advantage of a good deal.” I pointed to my wine rack, which was full of red Moscato, with the overflow sitting next to it on the counter. The overflow that might be gone at the end of this evening the way we were going.

  She laughed. “You wino.”

  “Well, some days the thought of a glass of wine is all that gets me through.” I paused a moment. “God, I do sound like a wino. I’m always thinking about what I want to be when I grow up,” I said wistfully. “I’m so bored. I love the people I work with and the people who come in for books, but the day-to-day is so tedious.”

  “You’ve been saying that for years now, Trix. Why don’t you do something about it? Go after something different. Go after your dream.”

  “Which one? Find a rich, old dude with one foot in the grave and no dependents to take me away from all this?” I said, sweeping my arms all around me. “Or the one where I open a bookstore with a coffee shop and wine bar?”

  Sally pretended to think. “Well, being that this town seems to have a shortage of rich old dudes with one foot in the grave, but a surplus of people who like to drink and who can probably read, I think the bookstore idea might be the better choice.”

  “Ahh, it’s always nice to dream.”

  “Dammit, it’s time we stopped dreaming and started doing. Living the life we want and deserve,” she said loudly, startling me and drumming her fist on the table, her blonde hair flying.

  “Whoa! Calm down, sister.” I stood up to refill my glass and topped off Sally’s. “You’re talking crazy.”

  “No, I’m not. Things just finally fell into place and became crystal clear.” “Really? Just this minute?” I said.

  “Are you sure it’s not the wine talking?”

  “Stop. Now, listen to me. You have always dreamed of owning a used bookstore. The only thing that’s stopped you is money.”

  “That and the fear I would be a big, fat failure, but there’s no reason to dwell on that because I don’t have the money in the first place.”

  “That may be true, but I have a big windfall headed to my bank account by the end of the month,” Sally said, and I started to shake my head. “Just hear me out, Trix. I have spent half my life keeping Tom organized at work, taking care of all the details and finances. I’m good at that stuff. You know books. I need a job, and you need to finally realize your dream. This is perfect for us. We can be partners.”

  I opened my mouth to object, then closed it. I found myself instantly excited at the prospect of my days being spent at my own bookstore, where people could enjoy books while drinking coffee or wine. But I knew it wasn’t realistic. I wasn’t in a position to follow that dream. “Sally, don’t think I don’t love the idea. I do. But not only do I not have money to invest in a business, but you need to do something a lot safer with your settlement than potentially throwing it away on a venture that may not work. This is your life’s savings you’re talking about. Who’s to say our small town can even support a used bookstore?”

  “Who’s to say it won’t, until we do our research? Surely, if we can support three bakeries, we can support a bookstore.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Oh, please. Don’t be such a wuss. We won’t fail. We’re too awesome, and this is a great idea. Do you want to look back in twenty years and regret that you didn’t follow your dreams?”

  Between the two of us, I was the more practical and less of a risk taker.

  Sally was always up f
or something. She’d been the first to pierce her ears with an ice cube and needle, and without her mom knowing. The first to go all the way with a boy, and the first to get married and have a baby. Sally jumped into things with both feet first and thought about consequences later. That was one of the many things I loved about her. Me? I worried about the consequences before anything else. We’d always balanced each other out well.

  I mean, I wouldn’t call myself a glass-half-empty gal, just maybe a glass-half-full-so-we-better-drink-slowly-because-there’s-no-back-up-in-the-pantry gal. I was cautious, whereas Sally was full of vibrant passion. Even catching her husband playing hide-the-sausage with the receptionist at his Buick dealership didn’t dampen that optimism.

  “This town would thrive on it,” she said. “You have to drive to the next big town for a bookstore, and the bars here aren’t the most relaxing place to drink a glass of wine. Unless you want to go to half-price wine night at Applebee’s, you’re out of luck. The only coffee shop is the old diner, and the Tanners have got to be ready to retire soon, and that will only leave McDonald’s. C’mon, Trixie, take a chance for once. You owe it to the town of Plainville to spruce the downtown area up a bit.”

  “Even if I decided I was up for the risk, it doesn’t change the fact I don’t have a pile of cash lying around.”

  “You may not have a million buried in the backyard, but you have options if you really want to follow your dreams. The money part can be figured out. It’s only money. Your house is almost paid off, you have a healthy 401k, and a college fund for Cody. Borrow from one of those.”

  “So, when I lose all of Cody’s college money or our house on a business whim, what should I tell him? ‘Sorry, dude, but Mom was having a mid-life crisis and decided to spend your future?’”

  Sally rolled her eyes. “Fine, don’t use the college fund. My point is, you have options. You just need to think outside the box. Opening a business is like having a baby. There’s never a right time. You just need to do it.”

  Her enthusiasm started to get to me, as it usually did. She didn’t typically have a difficult time swaying me to her way of thinking. It had gotten me into trouble a few times as a kid, but I’d always had a good time, making the consequences worth it. I hadn’t felt too excited about what I was doing in my life for years and had come to the belief that maybe this was just what it meant to be an adult. You did what you needed to do, rather than what you wanted to do. That was the responsible thing, right? But thinking over the possibility of doing something I actually wanted to do? Wow, it sure was fun.

  “At least think about it,” Sally implored.

  What did I have to lose if I explored a little? “Okay, fine. I’ll think about it.”

  Sally squealed with excitement. “I just know you’re going to see this the way I do, Trixie.”

  Chapter 2

  I poured the first cup of the second pot of coffee I had brewed at work that day and took a sip. I willed the copious amounts of caffeine to hurry up and kick in. It had been one of those mornings. I’d tossed and turned all night, unable to get Sally’s crazy idea of opening a bookstore out of my head. My reward was waking up bleary-eyed, and with a headache. Opening that second bottle of wine last night hadn’t been the best idea. My brain still raced with a continuous loop of excitement followed by a dampening practicality. I kept telling myself playing it safe wasn’t a bad thing. I had a son to consider. It wasn’t all about me and what I wanted.

  But I had played it safe all my life. Maybe it was finally time to take a risk. Thoughts of business ownership were pushed aside as the first-grade class from Oak Ridge Elementary walked through the door for their field trip. Their excited little voices carried back to my office, and I went out to greet them. This was one of the highlights of my day, and one of the main reasons I had decided to pursue a career in library science. Always an avid reader, I had spent countless hours in the library as a child. This very library, in fact.

  Books opened up so many worlds, and, of course, when I was a child, there was no internet with its wealth of information. When young kids like this first-grade class came in to visit, it was fun sharing with them my love of books and all the library had to offer.

  The morning flew by, and I’d been successful at putting the business idea out of my mind and focusing on my current job. At least until Sally showed up with who I assumed was meant to be ammunition in the form of our third partner in crime, Cora Taylor. She was a more recent addition to our best friend group of two, having only moved to Romero a few years ago with her then boyfriend, unlike Sally and me, who’d lived here all our lives. The boyfriend had become an ex, but by then Cora had come to like our town, so she decided to stay. Cute and athletic, she had shiny straight brown-black hair, and she thought fun was running five miles before work, but we liked her anyways.

  “You have time for lunch?” Sally asked.

  “Sure. Let me just tell Sasha I’m leaving.” I walked through the stacks to the back and poked my head through the door that connected my office to the small room where the lunch area was. “Hey, Sasha,” I called to my assistant librarian. “I’m going to take off for lunch, okay? I told Sheila to call you over the intercom if she needs you.” Sheila was one of our four part-time library associates, who was shelving books out front.

  “No problem. I’ll be up there in a minute.”

  I returned to my waiting friends and slung my purse over my shoulder. “I’m ready.” Sally, Cora, and I walked out the door, and the warm sun shone on our faces, though the breeze made it a bit chilly. All in all, for an April day in Michigan, it was pretty decent out, as it wasn’t unheard of to still have snow on the ground this time of year.

  “Where to, girls?” Sally asked, and we all laughed. There weren’t a ton of choices at this end of town, so we always went to the same place: Subway. Not very elegant or exciting, but good for the waistline and the pocketbook.

  I ordered my usual tuna on wheat with baked barbecue Lays and a large diet Dr. Pepper—this Subway was one of the few restaurants in town that had it on fountain. Pop always tasted better over ice in a Styrofoam cup. I took my food to a table along with Sally and Cora. Unwrapping my sandwich, I said to Cora, “So I’m assuming Sally told you about her crazy idea?”

  Cora shrugged. “Yes, but I can’t say I think it’s a crazy idea. Personally, I like it. It seems like a no-brainer.”

  “She’s not thinking clearly if she’s willing to risk her life savings on opening a business. You know that’s risky.”

  “Of course it seems scary, Trixie, but timing is everything, and I agree with Sally. Now seems like the right time.”

  “See, she agrees,” said Sally. “You need to quit being a worrywart. We need to just go for it.”

  I sighed. I was beginning to cave. Owning my own store had been a dream for so long, and thinking it might actually happen, was enough to make even my normal conservative nature take a turn down the risk-taker path. Why not? What did I have to lose? It was only money, right? Even thinking that sentiment left me feeling a little panicked. How could I possibly go through with it? “Okay, fine. I will check into my financial options.”

  Sally’s squeals of excitement cut me off before I could say anything else. “You won’t regret it,” she said. “This will work out; you’ll see. In fact, I already found the perfect place.”

  “Sally, all I said was that I’d look into my financial options.” I was scared, but also excited that she was moving forward regardless of the fact I kept telling her to slow down.

  “It’s all about positive thinking. Anyways, there’s that storefront where the old fabric store used to be. You know, next to the Main Event hair salon.”

  “Isn’t the hardware store on the other side?” Cora asked after swallowing a bite of her turkey on white.

  “Yes, which makes it a good location,” Sally said. “Both businesses generate a lot of foot traffic, and we’d be right in the middle of all that. Who wouldn’t want to buy some b
ooks or have a glass of wine after getting their hair done, or while waiting for their husband at the hardware store?”

  I sighed again. “Okay, okay, I admit, it does sound great. I will try and leave work a little early so I can talk to Derek at the bank. But no promises,” I warned.

  Sally clapped her hands with excitement. “Make sure to call me as soon as you talk to him.”

  Sally and Cora were on to the next topic, but I only half listened. Could this crazy idea of Sally’s really work?

  The rest of the day passed slowly, because I was anxious for it to be over so I could talk to Derek. The longer I thought about the idea, the more I realized how much I wanted this. To open my dream. Have something to call my own. It was four o’clock when Arlene, another one of our part-timers, came in. She was a second-grade teacher at the elementary school and moonlighted at the library a few nights a week. Her husband had died the year before, and she struggled to make ends meet for her two daughters and herself. Which is why she’d taken on the extra job. I felt bad knowing her struggles, but she always had such a great attitude.

  “Hi, Arlene, how was class today?”

  “It was great, as always.” She smiled. She was one of the most positive people I knew. If I were in her shoes, I wasn’t sure I would be able to hold it together like she did.

  “Listen, it’s pretty slow today, so I’m going to go ahead and take off a little early so I can go to the bank,” I said.

  “That’s fine. I hear you’re thinking about opening a bookstore.”

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Though I don’t know why it should surprise me. News traveled fast in this town.