As much as she wanted to stay off her feet and savor the delicious food, she hurried through it, washed her hands and headed back to the front of the still-packed store. Aidan was handling sales with an easy charm that had those in line laughing as they waited patiently for their turns.
As Liz was heading to the register to relieve Aidan, a woman stopped her to ask about the custom doghouses. She pulled a picture of a Great Dane from her purse along with a picture of her sprawling home.
“Do you think the designer could do something like this for my Petunia?” she asked Liz hopefully.
Petunia? Liz thought, barely stifling a laugh. “I’m sure he could. Why don’t I give Matthew the pictures and your number and ask him to give you a call? You can work out the details directly with him.”
“Will you still get a commission if I do that?” she asked worriedly. “I like to support small businesses whenever I can.”
“Matthew and I will work that out,” Liz promised her, appreciative of her thoughtfulness. She jotted down the woman’s name and phone number to pass along to Matthew. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
The woman beamed. “Not a thing. That nice young man has already rung up my purchases, but he said I needed to speak to you about the custom doghouse.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how he did it, but I’m leaving here with at least three things I’m sure I didn’t intend to buy. You have a wonderful selection. You can count on me being a regular. I’m afraid I pamper Petunia outrageously. That dog is like a child to me.”
As the woman left, a satisfied expression on her face, Liz glanced in Aidan’s direction. He was smiling at a group of women in a way that could have gotten anyone—or at least any female over the age of consent—to buy just about anything. Maybe he was more than an angel. Perhaps he was a secret weapon she ought to consider using on a much more regular basis.
But, she told herself sternly, only as long as she could find some way to inoculate herself against all that charm that seemed to come so naturally. Her husband had been a lot like that, charming everyone he met. She’d learned way too late to distrust that, but it was a lesson she wasn’t likely to forget.
* * *
“How was lunch?” Aidan asked when Liz eventually made her way back to the front of the store.
“Delicious,” she said. “Thank you. And thanks for the break, too. I think I can handle things from now on out. You should go back and finish your own lunch before it’s ice-cold.”
“I had plenty,” he insisted. “Do you have help coming in?”
She shook her head. “There’s a high school girl who comes in after school a few days a week, but her family was going away for the weekend.”
Aidan frowned. “It wasn’t very responsible of her to bail on you on a holiday weekend.”
Liz shrugged. “I didn’t think it was a big deal at the time. I know better now. Tess is hoping for more hours this summer and now I can safely tell her she’ll get them.”
“How about I hang around, at least until the crowd slows down. You can work your magic answering questions and I can stay up here at the register.”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” she protested.
“You didn’t ask. It’s not as if I have other pressing things to do. I’ve been enjoying the chance to talk to people.” Unsaid was that he liked watching her in action, too. She had a quiet sales manner that seemed to make people instinctively trust her. And her enthusiasm for the merchandise was plain. It was a potent combination that excited people, but assured they never felt pressured.
Glancing around at the number of people still milling about, she seemed to reach a conclusion. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, I’d be grateful for the help, but only until things quiet down.”
“Agreed,” he said at once. “Now go. There’s someone else looking longingly at that doghouse. I think you can sell another one.”
Liz immediately scurried off in that direction, leaving him to ring up sales and chat with the tourists, who seemed to have come from all over the region. Many were staying at The Inn at Eagle Point and raving about the food. Others were asking for tips on other shops and restaurants.
“I’m new to town, but I’ve heard good things about Brady’s seafood,” he told them. “And I can testify firsthand that O’Brien’s has a terrific, authentic Irish pub menu. If you’re looking for something simple, like a burger or a crab cake sandwich, Sally’s right up the block is terrific. It’s very popular with all the locals.”
He was amused to realize he was starting to sound like a spokesman for the Chamber of Commerce. Not that he was likely to do this on a regular basis, but he really did need to get around more if he was going to be passing out recommendations.
As that tourist left, he started ringing up yet another sale, when he realized the woman was studying him intently.
“You’re the new football coach, aren’t you?” she said.
“Aidan Mitchell,” he confirmed.
“I’m Pamela Hobbs. My son is the team quarterback. He’ll be a senior next year, so his father and I are expecting great things from him.”
“I’m still getting to know the players,” Aidan told her, wise enough to word his response carefully. “We’re a long way from settling how next fall’s team will shape up, but Coach Gentry definitely told me about your son. I’m looking forward to seeing him in action. I hope to get in a couple of scrimmages before school’s out.”
She frowned at his response. “Surely you’re not considering making any changes to the roster.”
Aidan saw the
