Better Not Love Me Read Online Free Page A

representatives from Riddell Industries and discuss the future of Mr. Z's as a franchise. For nearly a year, she'd been left alone to run the Spokane store with little contact from the corporate office. She hadn't even met her boss. It had been quite the ordeal learning how to run the small business. Her one month of experience with Edwin was all she had to draw from; no one was more qualified than she in that regard, but that was scary in itself. It had been a bumpy ride to say the least.
    Riddell's infusion of capital for inventory kept the store in the black, but she knew those were inflated numbers even though the store was busy too. The brand recognition of Mr. Z's had grown significantly since Edwin passed. A new stream of curious customers would often visit the store, drawn by the heroic tale of Edwin Klein. They would come in and share their memories of where they were, or who they were with when they first heard of Mr. Z's Toys that fateful Christmas Eve.
    "Grandma had just served her homemade pumpkin pie that night," one customer said.
    "I had just put the kids to bed and was placing gifts under the tree, when I saw the story on the TV," said another.
    Telling these stories made them feel connected to the generous act and Amelia was happy to listen. But as might be expected, the customers also wanted to talk about when they learned of Edwin's passing too.
    "Such a tragic thing to happen to such a good man," one said.
    "Thank heavens he was there to save those boys on that frozen lake," said another.
    Amelia didn’t know if it was purposeful, but very few people ever made the connection that one of "those boys" was her son Marcus or nephew Max. Or how she was involved in Edwin's story at all.
    She would nod and listen to each story, as if it was the first time she had heard such stories from a customer. No one cared much who she was and that was OK. Each day was a challenge and today was no different.
    "Derek!" Amelia called from the backroom. "Did you unlock the door yet?"
    "Shoot. No, I will right now," he shouted back from deep in the store.
    Derek Conway had worked side by side with Amelia since last year. He knew Edwin and his late wife Mary from years back. He showed up at Mr. Z's the first day Amelia opened the store alone. He said he owed the Kleins a debt he could never repay and wanted to help in any way he could. Amelia hired him full time and he'd been a great worker—except for forgetting to open the door most mornings.
    The man from Riddell was supposed to arrive at 10:30 this morning. He was originally scheduled to come in the previous day, but for some reason postponed it until today. She wasn't given a reason. It didn't matter. Amelia could hardly contain herself. She was full of ideas. She had questions, too. Like why the company waited for a year and a half to get her input, even after opening stores in Seattle, Portland and San Francisco. The parent company did it all on its own. The only person she had spoken with from Riddell was the elderly founder of the company, Walt Riddell. But that was just on one visit before Christmas last year and then again in a series of short phone calls.
    Walt was in his 80s and gave rambling advice to Amelia about being herself and finding the heart of her business. He had a wealth of business acumen somewhere inside him, but he didn't share it with her. He was a very nice man and she enjoyed talking with him even if it was just to chat.
    The core business of Riddell Industries was scooping up failing companies and either propping them up through tough times or selling them off bit by bit. They'd been doing it for decades. Thankfully the five-year contract Edwin signed was intended to keep Mr. Z's alive, not tear it apart. She'd hate to have Riddell as an enemy. There were four years left on the contract and Amelia was anxious to get started.
    The contract was all a little mystifying for her, but Riddell was the corporation that saved the store, so they must know