Page 88 of Safe With You

Then I opened my email and got to work.

The first thing waiting for me was an invoice from one of our distributors.

The second was a shipping notification for an order I’d forgotten was arriving this week.

The third was an email from a woman who’d attended Open Mic Night asking when we were doing another one.

I stopped scrolling.

Her message wasn’t long. She’d come with a friend, stayed for the entire event, and wanted to know if there was a way to sign up to read next time.

Next time.

Naomi had been saying it since Saturday like the decision had already been made. Apparently, everyone else had decided too.

I pulled my notebook planner from my bag and opened it beside the keyboard.

The question mark was already gone.

Open Mic Night.

I stared at the words for another moment before opening a new email.

If I was going to do this, I needed to stop treating it like an idea.

I started with Denise, asking if she’d be interested in coming back next month or recommending another local performer. Then I emailed Rachel.

I told her I hoped she was proud of herself.

Then I asked if she wanted to do it again.

I hit send before I could decide I was putting too much pressure on her.

“What are you doing?”

I looked up.

Naomi stood on the other side of the counter with a cup in each hand.

“Working.”

“I can see that.”

She placed one of the cups beside me.

I looked at it suspiciously. “What is this?”

“Coffee.”

“I know that. What did you put in it?”

“You ask too many questions for somebody receiving a free beverage.”

“Girl, this is literally my bookstore.”

“Exactly, which means you should know better than to question the person who makes your coffee. Vanilla with a little caramel.”

I took a sip.