Chapter Twelve. BY THE END of the lunch hour on Monday, Melanie had the entire third coat of paint finished

BY THE END of the lunch hour on Monday, Melanie had the entire third coat of paint finished. She stood back, hands on hips, and surveyed her handiwork with a satisfied smile. Things felt a little different, now that she knew the store was going to be hers.

She took a deep breath of the city air, feeling inexplicably victorious. Picking up the paint cans, brushes, and drop cloths, she entered the store.

There was so much to do. She knew Uncle Phil would take care of the necessary paper work, but she hadn't even decided what kind of books she was going to sell. She still had to figure out what to do with the books she didn't need any more. Should she sell them at a discount? Maybe she should call the local libraries and other bookstores to see if they'd be interested.

She entered the little office, her hands freshly scrubbed clean of the paint, and scanned all the paper strewn about. I need my computer, she thought. This writing everything down is for the birds. She had just sat down to make a list of things she needed to do or get and places she needed to call, when she heard Lynda's cheerful voice calling to her from the front of the store.

" Hello? Sherwin Williams, are you here? "

Melanie smiled. " In the office, smart ass. Come on back."

She heard the work boots clomping across the hardwood, and Lynda's smiling, food-smeared form appeared in the doorway a few seconds later. " All done? It looks great. Wait until Sammi sees it."

Melanie pressed her lips together and studied Lynda's face for a long moment.

" What? " the café owner asked, looking behind her, then back to the redhead.

" I bought the bookstore."

" You what? "

" I bought it. Sam said she didn't want it, and I asked my uncle to sell it to me."

" Just like that? "

" Just like that."

" Wow. Well, good for you, then." She narrowed her eyes at Melanie. " Why do you look less than enthusiastic? "

Melanie sighed, throwing up her hands. " Oh, hell, Lynda. I don't know. I'm on such a roller coaster right now."

Lynda's blue eyes twinkled, and she perched on the corner of Melanie's little desk, peering at her curiously. " Okay, come on. Talk to Auntie Lynda."

The gesture of friendship mixed with silliness made Melanie laugh, easing her tension just a bit.

" I just hope I know what I'm getting myself into. I don't even know what I'm going to sell."

" Well, I would think you'd sell books."

" Duh, " Melanie said, slapping playfully at her neighbor. She rummaged through the papers spread across the desk until she came across the list she had constructed several days earlier. She handed it to Lynda. " What kind of books? Taylor was right. This is too small a place to sell books in general. It has to be some kind of specialty store." She pointed to the list. " Those are categories that interest me. Can't very well sell something I don't give a damn about, right? "

Lynda furrowed her brows as she studied the list. " Hmm. Let's see... Computers? Boring. Plus, you'd have mostly geekazoid computer nerds in here. Pets? A possibility. Would there be enough stuff to fill your shelves, though? Feminism? Hmm. I like that one. We'll come back to that. Business? Boring. Mysteries? Another possibility. Classics? Nah. Old news. Used? Won't make much money. Sci-Fi? You think the computer geeks are bad, wait 'til you see what science fiction brings in the door."

Melanie nodded in appreciation at the insightful commentary. Lynda brought up facts the redhead hadn't touched on yet. " So, you like mysteries and feminism."

" Those would be the first two on my list. Can I give you my opinion? "

" Yes, absolutely." Melanie had decided very quickly that she liked Lynda and trusted her opinions. Lynda was a successful businesswoman. More traffic in the bookstore could only mean more traffic in front of her café. Melanie didn't feel Lynda would intentionally steer her wrong.

" Okay. Please keep in mind that I am not saying this simply because I'm a lesbian, not to mention a feminist."

" So noted."

" You are in a prime location to specialize in feminist and lesbian works."

" I am? "

" You betcha. All these little streets that offshoot Monroe Avenue, most of the big houses on them are apartments. The population in this area is very young... probably 18 to 30... and very gay or gay-friendly."

" Really." Melanie could hear her own wheels turning.

" If I was going to open any type of store catering to the gay population, I'd put it right here. My assistant, Julie, moved into her first apartment over on Oxford a few years back. When her father realized where her apartment was, he asked her if she was gay."

" Just because of where she moved? "

" Swear. This is gay central. Did Jeff keep a lesbian or gay section here? " She headed out into the main store area and scanned the shelves.

" To the right, I think, " Melanie offered.

" Ah. Here we go. Oooo, look. Seven whole books." She rolled her eyes and then scanned the miniscule selection.

" Anything worthwhile? " Melanie asked, honestly curious.

" Where the hell did he get this stuff? " the café owner queried, not recognizing the majority of the authors. " Oh, wait. Here we go."

She pulled a book off the shelf and handed it to Melanie. " A classic."

" Curious Wine by Katherine V. Forrest. Classic, huh? "

" Every lesbian I know has read it. And some straight girls." She winked. " Seriously, it's a great book. Boy, it sure would be nice to have someplace with a large selection of gay books. Barnes & Noble has a section, but it's not very big. Hint, hint."

Melanie grinned. " I'll make a note. Lynda's vote: Feminist bookstore."

" You got it. Although, the mystery idea isn't bad." She glanced at her watch. " Shit. I've gotta run." She stopped in mid-step. " Oh. Wait. I almost forgot. Listen, Julie and I are going out Thursday night. It's Ladies' Night and we're going to hit Happy Hour. You want to go? " Melanie opened her mouth, but her response was pre-empted by an upheld hand. " Wait, before you say anything, yes, it's a gay bar, but don't worry. We'll protect you."

Melanie laughed out loud at that, playfully punching Lynda in the shoulder. " I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself, Mom. Yes, I'd love to go. Thanks."

" Great." Lynda headed out the door. " I'll come get you around five, " she tossed over her shoulder.

Melanie turned back to the store, folding her arms and scrutinizing the overall space. " Well, " she said out loud, " I'm definitely a feminist." She glanced at the book in her hand, taking it to the back office and slipping it into her bag. " Hi. I'm Melanie Larson. I own a feminist bookstore." She smiled at the sound of it. A feminist bookstore. Hmm. She had noticed a library several blocks up the street and decided to see if it had internet access. It was time to do a little research.

TAYLOR WAS HAVING a good week. First, she'd landed two major accounts at work, one of which she'd been working on for almost a year. Second, she'd helped Jason rework the ad for the local college and his clients were much happier with the result, making both Taylor and the radio station look good. Third, she'd managed to dodge any phone calls from Maggie and they were getting fewer and farther between, finally. And fourth, she'd managed to avoid Melanie for nearly five days. Of course, the only way to do that was to keep away from her own house, but, hey, whatever worked. She was proud of herself for sticking to her resolve.

It was when she drove down Monroe Avenue after a successful appointment with a potential new client that she noticed the new eye-catching and inviting blue exterior of the bookstore, and her resolve went flying right out the window of her Honda. She watched in horror as her hands and feet seemed to operate al on their own to steer her down a side street and park her within walking distance of the little shop.

" What the hell am I doing here? " she said aloud, staring at her hands on the steering wheel. When no answer appeared before her, she leaned her head back against the headrest and sighed. " I'll just go say hi. It's no big deal." The clock on her dashboard read four-fifteen. " She's probably not even there." It was several more minutes before she could get her brain and her body to focus on the same task, and she finally stepped out of the car, smoothing her red skirt, running a slightly trembling hand through her loose hair.

MELANIE AND LYNDA were tossing names for the bookstore back and forth at one another with reckless abandon, but Melanie couldn't latch onto anything.

" Nothing's knocking my socks off, " she whined, tossing her now-tanned legs over the arm of the overstuffed chair. Lynda sat the same way in the opposite chair, after they'd dragged the pair toward the back of the store. " Pita Paradise is unique. How'd you come up with it? "

Lynda shrugged. " I just always wanted my own little pita paradise, " she deadpanned.

Melanie was quiet for a beat before bursting into laughter. " Ha! I get it."

" Took you long enough." Lynda smirked, shaking her head in mock-disappointment.

Their laughter ceased abruptly at the sound of the little bell that Melanie had hung over the front door. They exchanged questioning glances, wondering who would just wander in, despite the large CLOSED sign in the window. Lynda craned her neck to peer through the shelves blocking her view, able to make out only hints of bright red.

" Melanie? " a husky female voice called. " You in here? "

Lynda watched with amusement as Melanie's face took on a whole new expression at the recognition of the voice. She practically sprang up from her chair as a very attractive young woman in a red business suit cleared the shelves and came into view.

Lynda recognized her face, sure she'd run into her at the occasional softball game or women's bar. Tina? Tammy? What was her name? She raised her eyebrows in quiet surprise when Melanie walked right up, and wrapped her arms around the woman's neck, hugging her like a long-lost lover. The woman in red closed her eyes, seeming to melt into the embrace, tightening her arms around Melanie's waist. For several seconds, Lynda felt as if she was invisible, as if the only people in the world were these two. The contact lasted longer than a typical hug between friends. Isn't this interesting, Lynda thought to herself, making a mental note to address this issue with Melanie later.

They parted slowly, and Melanie flushed an adorable shade of pink when she saw Lynda's raised eyebrows and twinkling blue eyes. She cleared her throat, consciously stepping a few inches away from Taylor. " I'm sorry. Lynda, this is my friend, Taylor Rhodes. I'm staying on her property, in Sam's house. Taylor, this is Lynda Murphy. She owns the Pita Paradise next door."

" Nice to meet you." Taylor reached out and shook the hand Lynda offered. The cafe owner had to make an extra effort to keep the smirk off her face when she noticed the barely disguised look of ownership Taylor had donned. She might as well hang up a Posted No Trespassing sign, Lynda smiled to herself, returning the too-firm handshake.

The three of them stood in awkward silence before Lynda made a move toward the door. " I'd better go check on Julie. She hates when I leave her to clean up by herself. It was nice to meet you, Taylor. Mel, I'll catch you tomorrow."

" Okay." Melanie watched the door shut, then turned to Taylor with a crooked grin. " It's good to see you. I've been keeping my eyes open for your car, but you're never around."

" Oh, yeah." Taylor waved her hand with an air of non-challenge. " Work's been really busy."

" That's what your dad said. I missed you."

" You did? "

" Yeah."

Taylor swallowed hard during the beat that followed, then took a deep breath. " This looks great. You've really done a lot." She wandered around, scrutinizing the shelves. " It's so much cleaner. And the outside...wow. Does that ever look better."

" You think so? "

" Absolutely. Great color choice. It looks very welcoming."

Melanie smiled, pleased at the compliment.

Taylor noticed the sparkle of the hardwood. " Good Lord, Melanie, did you scrub the floor, too? "

" Yesterday. After Sam called to tell me she was in Vancouver."

Taylor blinked at her. " Vancouver? They actually went all the way? "

" That's what she said."

" Well, she sure doesn't deserve all the work you're putting into her shop, after she deserted you like she did."

" It's not her shop anymore."

Taylor wrinkled her nose in confusion; Melanie was barely able to keep from smiling affectionately at the expression. " What do you mean? "

" She said she didn't want it, so her father sold it."

" He sold it? To who? "

" Me."

" You? "

" Yup."

Taylor blinked in disbelief, trying to take in all the implications of Melanie owning the bookstore. " How on earth did this come about? "

Melanie motioned to the chairs, and the two women sat. The redhead took a deep breath and recounted the appearance of her unexpected attachment to the little shop, which had begun the second she had set foot in the door. She explained how, at first, the cleaning and polishing were just to pass the time after Sam's sudden departure. However, after a few days on her own in the store, she'd started to visualize what changes she'd make and how she'd run it if it were hers.

From there, she'd begun pretending it was hers. Taylor nodded with interest, her dark eyes fixed on the expressive blue ones before her.

" When Sam said she didn't really want it and could I just tell her dad to sell it, that's when the plan solidified in my head." She shrugged. " I just asked Uncle Phil if I could buy it from him."

Taylor sat back in the chair with a grin. " Wow. You have got some balls, girl."

Melanie laughed nervously. " Is that what it is? " Taylor scrutinized her carefully.

Melanie's eyes skittered away from the dark ones searching for contact.

Taylor reached out, catching the older woman's chin, and gently turning her face so their eyes finally met. " What is it? What's bothering you? "

Blue was absorbed by soft brown for several long seconds before Melanie felt Taylor slowly let go of her face. The redhead sighed. " This is hard. You have to understand that this is so hard for me. I'm not a worrier. I'm a go-getter. A doer. I always have been. But this..." She licked her lips and swallowed, making a grand sweeping gesture with her arm to encompass the whole shop.

" I'm nervous, Taylor. I don't get nervous. I just don't. But...I'm nervous about whether or not I know what the hell I'm getting myself into. This is a big frigging step."

Taylor nodded slowly. " That it is. Okay." She kicked off her pumps and pulled her legs up to tuck them under her body, getting more comfortable, sinking into the soft fabric beneath her. " Let's talk it through then. You said you visualized the changes you'd make. Tell me about them."

Melanie watched Taylor shift herself into a cozy, red ball on the overstuffed chair, and decided to follow suit. She felt better already. She could almost feel the confidence oozing from the brunette across from her, making her own strength and usually ever-present assurance slowly seep back into her body. She closed her eyes for a moment.

Taylor watched as Melanie visibly relaxed. Good. That had been her intention. She knew in her heart that Melanie was more than capable of making the shop into a success. Now, she just had to make Melanie see it, too. Because once she did, everything would be okay and Melanie would be here, in Rochester, in her city, for good.

" First, I'd do what you said, " Melanie began. " Specialize. You were absolutely on the money about the size of this place. I was kind of leaning towards the feminist market." At Taylor's raised eyebrows, she hurried on. " This is a prime location. Feminist, woman-oriented stuff would be popular, I think. I did some research at the library the other day, just to see what's out there." She widened her eyes. " Wow."

Taylor chuckled. " Wow is right. Okay. Feminist bookstore. Then what? "

" Image change. New paint for a more inviting exterior. Clean and welcoming inside. I want people to think it's okay for them to sit and relax for a bit." She waved her hand. " Done."

" Very nicely, I might add. Then? "

" Computerize, " Melanie said with conviction. " Everything is on paper right now and I hate it. It's messy. Jeff did all right with it, but it's not how I do things. I've got a PC in my apartment in Chicago that will do nicely. I'm pretty knowledgeable when it comes to software. My inventory has to be on computer. That's the only way to keep track of things."

Taylor nodded in approval. " Good. What else? "

" Advertise." Melanie ticked off selections on her fingers. " Print, flyers, radio." She grinned at the brunette. " Maybe I'd sponsor a softball team or some of the local women's or gay events."

Taylor stifled her surprise at the last comment, deciding not to broach the subject at that moment. Melanie was on a roll. " See? It sounds to me like you've got this all mapped out."

Melanie blinked once. " I do, don't I? "

" I think so."

" And you know what? If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. At least I will have tried, and I won't ever be sitting around regretting the fact that I was too chicken to give it a shot."

They sat in companionable silence for a long moment, Melanie's eyes sparkling with confidence, Taylor enjoying the view. " Feel better? " she asked.

" Much." She favored Taylor with a beaming grin of thanks. " You are the best. That is exactly what I needed. Where'd you learn to pep talk like that? "

" Hey, you did all the talking. I just got you started." " You did. Thank you."

" My pleasure."

Taylor unwillingly glanced at her watch, rolling her eyes, then slipped her stocking-clad feet back into their shoes of torture and stood. " I've got to run." She didn't miss the flash of disappointment that flickered across Melanie's face, and it warmed her insides.

Suddenly, she blurted out, " Hey, what are you doing on Friday? "

" Um...Friday, I'll be here, and then back at Sam's, I guess."

" They're calling for rain and I've got those Xena tapes you wanted to see. What do you say? We can order a pizza or something."

" Or you can cook for me." Good God, who said that? Taylor poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue.

" Or I could cook for you. Okay. Anything you don't like? "

" Sausage, veal, and I'm not crazy about onions."

" Sausage, veal, onions. Got it. I'll be over about six-thirty, okay? "

" See you Friday."

The little bell jingled as Taylor left. Melanie stood looking at the closed door for a long time, smiling like a teenage girl who'd just been asked to the prom.

OKAY, I’M GETTING signals. I am definitely getting signals. If those aren't signals she's sending me, then I haven't the foggiest idea what a signal is.

Taylor took off her suit coat and hung it across the back of the passenger seat, noting the sweat rolling down her side. She'd never felt like such a love struck kid before. How the hell did Melanie do that to her?

Taylor Rhodes prided herself on being a sensible, in-control young woman. She had a sense of humor, yes. She liked to have fun, yes, but giddy schoolgirl was not a phrase she wanted to be used to describe her. She flopped into the driver's seat of the Honda and scrubbed a hand across her face. She sighed from deep down in her bones.

She was falling for Melanie Larson.

She was falling fast.

She was falling hard.

Slowly, she pounded her head against the steering wheel.