Love, Scars, & Shooting Stars

Chapter Two

"Hey there, Cam. How goes the battle?"

Cameron Shepherd smiled to himself. It was the same greeting he received every time he stopped in at Bill Platt's rustic little convenience store—always from the proprietor himself—and Cam's answer was always the same.

"It's going," he said, heading to the counter where the coffee was always on.

Cam emptied the pot of regular into the largest cup available and started a new brew cycle before capping his drink and scanning the pastry shelf for something to snack on. There wasn't much to choose from this late in the afternoon, so Cam was forced to settle for two plain doughnuts and a brownie before making his way to the cash register.

"Working on the old Dodson place again this evening?" Bill surmised as he rang up Cam's purchases.

"Yeah, I'm hoping to finally get the roof finished, at least," Cam said. "Business at The Shack has picked up this week, so I'm not as far along as I'd like to be..."

Bill shook his head, his pale blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he took the money Cam gave him and counted out the change.

"You keep burning the candle at both ends, you're gonna kick off before I do," Bill cautioned. He tossed Cameron's snacks into a brown paper bag and winked as he slid it across the counter. "Especially if you keep eating doughnuts and brownies for supper."

Cam took the bag and smiled at the old man's casual concern. He'd never really had a father growing up, and his mother had done her best, but—well, it was nice to have somebody looking out for him, that's all.

"I've got a sandwich in the truck," Cam assured his elder friend. "And a cooler full of bottled water."

Bill nodded his approval, but added more of his two cents just the same.

"Still... running a business and restoring a house? That's a lot of work for one person to do all by themselves," he said. "Now if you had yourself a good woman—"

"Biiill...," Cameron admonished, wishing to avoid more of the old man's advice in regards to the pitiful state of his love life.

"Okay, okay," the older man relented, raising both hands in surrender. "I won't bring it up again. Even if it is a damn shame that you're wasting the best years of your life because one silly gal didn't have enough sense to—"

"Bill..."

"Fine, fine," he muttered. "Still, you ought to at least think about hiring some help."

"What, like a laborer?" Cam asked. "The whole point of restoring abandoned properties is to turn a profit. I can't do that if I'm paying someone else to do the work."

"I meant hire someone to run the sandwich shop," Bill explained. "That'd leave your days free to work on the house."

Cam snorted. "I've tried that, remember? I ended up with a couple of kids that barely showed up for work, and when they did manage to show up, they used the cash register as their own personal ATM."

"Mm, that's how a lot of 'em are nowadays," Bill allowed, and then shrugged. "So don't hire a kid."

This time Cameron laughed fully.

"Yeah, right! A seasonal job with part-time hours, no benefits, and next-to-nothing for pay," he scoffed doubtfully as he tucked his wallet away in his back pocket. "Like I'm gonna find a dependable adult to fill that position. Hey, as long as we're dreaming—and since you're so concerned about my love life—let's make it a woman, and she can be my personal sex slave, too!"

Bill's raspy laughter filled the air, and Cam couldn't help but join him. Suddenly, a third voice joined in, ringing in on the conversation like a bell.

"I'll do it. I'll take the job."