Read Online Haunting Jasmine by Anjali Banerjee - Free Book Online Page A

store. We need to order in the bestsellers in cooking. We need lights. It’s like a cave in here.”
    “You put this one in the wrong place.” Tony pulls a hardcover off the shelf and places it on the next shelf over. “We organize these by subject, then, within the subject, by author.”
    “Whatever, Tony. Nobody’s in here looking, anyway.”
    “Ruma could have left the store in my hands. I could have done just fine without you. Now you’ve driven away more than one customer.”
    “I didn’t drive anyone away. Lucia didn’t know what she wanted.”
    Tony points at my forehead. “It’s your job to find out.”
    “I tried.”
    “Ruma can see things, sense things about people—about what they want and need. She has a kind of third eye.”
    “That’s ridiculous.” I make a hocus-pocus motion with my fingers. “Third eye, my ass.”
    “You can’t do this job using only logic. It’s not like giving someone a quote on a retirement portfolio.”
    “They want a book, you give it to them. You figure out what they want.”
    “Sometimes people don’t know what they want. Patience, grace, heart. Compassion. You need those qualities for this job.”
    “What you need are wider aisles and plush armchairs.”
    “The armchairs are fine.” Tony tucks the pasta book under his arm. “Did you stop to wonder why Lucia flew to California? Not for pleasure, or she would have remembered the name of the cookbook. But she was preoccupied. Her mother owned a house there but could no longer manage the property. She’s got some kind of dementia. You could have asked.”
    “I’m not a psychic, or a psychotherapist.”
    “Nobody says you have to be.” Tony follows me into the Classics section.
    “Look, I’m sorry about Lucia’s mom. That’s sad. But I’m not here to learn her deepest secrets.”
    “You don’t have to. You just have to care. Books are more than commodities to sell. Books hold our culture, our past, other worlds, the antidote for sadness.”
    “If that were the case, everyone would be flocking to bookstores.”
    “And maybe they should.”
    “I’ve done great without books… for years. I don’t have time to read anymore.”
    “Maybe you should make time.”
    “I’ve been busy—”
    “So you’ve lost someone, too. I see it in your face. That’s all you need. Tap into your humanity. All you need is a little empathy.”
    “I have empathy.” What does he see in my face? There’s nothing in my face.
    He presses a tattered paperback copy of Pride and Prejudice into my hands. “Use your empathy at the Wednesday night reading group. Ruma always leads at the meeting.”
    “But I don’t know how to lead a reading group.”
    “They usually meet in the tea room.”
    “But—”
    “Do you want to disappoint your aunt?”
    “I’m not reading this.” I put the book on the table.
    He sighs. “Suit yourself. Tomorrow morning Gertrude Gertler is coming in to sign Fuzzy-Paw Pajamas .”
    “ Fuzzy-Paw… ?”
    “Gertrude’s a little eccentric.” He shows me a flat hardcover picture book painted in benign pastels. Fuzzy bears in pajamas.
    “What do you mean, ‘eccentric’?”
    “Oh, you know.” He leads me into the parlor. “Just make sure the place is neat, and she can sit there, at that table. Blue Sharpie pen. Pink Post-it Notes.”
    “Pink Post-it Notes?”
    “Write the name of each person who wants a book signed, on the Post-it Note, and hand it to Gertrude so she doesn’t misspell the name.”
    “Do we have pink?”
    Tony glances at his watch. “We don’t have pink, and Office Onestop is closed. Blue will have to do.”
    “You’ll be here tomorrow to take care of things?”
    “I’ll make it as soon as I can. I have to ride the ferry, remember?”
    I help him arrange the parlor for the book signing, propping a few copies of Fuzzy-Paw Pajamas on table displays, along with a selection of Gertrude Gertler’s other titles.
    “Do we have more books?” I ask. “I count only