The line goes dead. I feel a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach. Ten thousand dollars by the end of today or my store goes under. How the hell am I supposed to do that? She knows I was never told how the box worked. I can’t use something if I don’t know how to.
I walk over to Cara’s and push open her door. She’s on the phone to someone and holds up a finger, mouthing, “One second,” to me. She returns to her call. “Isn’t there anything you can do? No? Well, thanks anyway, I guess.” She hangs up, coming over and shoving a cupcake in my hand. “I’m guessing you saw next door. They came and did it first thing. I tried to stop them.”
“It’s all right.”
“Half the places in town have been treated the same. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Winnie needs the money for something.”
“Like what?”
“Who knows? Drug debts, gambling? Whatever it is, she’s acting batshit this morning. Not sure why she boarded your place up though, and none of the others.”
“What do I do now?”
“You could go to the bank. I bet they’d give you a loan.”
“I doubt it. I’m not exactly a safe proposition for them, am I?”
“Got to be worth a try. You can’t let Aladdin’s Cave close. You’re the town’s main dating site.”
“The what?”
“People come to yours to meet like-minded people. I’ve seen at least three couples this year come to me for wedding favors who first met in your place.”
“Seriously?”
“Bonded over fantasy, sci-fi, and self-help. Go to the bank and see what they can do for you. We’ve got to keep the place open.”
* * *
I’m kept waiting for a half hour before Bobby Sandwell comes around from behind the bank counter and beckons me through a door into a small meeting room. “How can I help?” he asks.
Hopefully, he’ll be a gentleman and not mention the time he asked me out, and I rejected him. It’s been three years. Surely, he’s forgotten by now.
“How long’s it been?” he asks. “Last time I saw you, you were rejecting me.”
“I was hoping you could help me apply for a loan.”
He turns to his computer and types something in. “According to your accounts, you’ve not got a lot of income at the moment. How much were you looking to borrow?”
“Ten thousand.”
He snorts, turning back to me. “Seriously? How much were you really after?”
“I’m being serious.”
“There’s no way the bank can lend you that much. What do you even want it for, anyway?”
“I’ve got to pay a year’s rent up front on the bookstore.”
“Didn’t you save up during the year from your substantial profits?”
“Not that it’s any of your business but I was helping someone with their medical bills.”
“And how is Eileen?”
“She’s getting better, thanks. The chemo’s working.”
He’s barely listening. “It’s all well and good helping other people but you shouldn’t do it at the expense of your business. How do you think it would look if I doled out the bank’s money to anyone who came begging?”