That Small Quaint Curio Shop

That Small Quaint Curio Shop is, as the anme inplies, a small quaint crurio shop. It stands conspiciously among the sidewalk of boutiques and bistros, with its brown brick facade, tiled roof and exquisitely carved dark wood door; looking more like an incongrous house than a shop. A canvas propped up against the wall with the shop's name painted in gold script and the window above, it's metal railing molded artistically into creeping vines and blooms which allowed a view inside, were the only telltale feature of what it is. Furthermore, it opens at 7 in the morning and closes late in the evening-at 3.
How Summer Mirasol came to work there is as quaint as the articles it sells.
She just had a bleak interview for a customer sales representative position and was walking dejected on the cobbled street of the cosmopolitan district when someone with big feet crossed her path. With a brow raised, she looked up, way up, at an arrestingly handsome, bespectacled guy his shoulder-length black hair tied in a ponytail, his countenance contrite.
"Sorry. Hi. You probably don't remeber me-but I remember you. It's, um..."He moves his hand as he tried to recall something..."Sha-Shiela, no...Summer! Summer, right?"
Summer nodded flabbergasted.
"You worked at Cherry Sitti's? I eat there a lot." he explained.
Recollection dawned on Summer's features. "I remember, sir." she said in English. "You were with a girl."
"You're referring to my daughter , Cleo...You'd probably think this strange , but do you still need a job?"
"Actually I still do sir but-"
"Perfect! Um, mind coming with me?" When Summer shook her head uncertainly in answer, they began walking in the opposite direction. "I have this shop. A curio shop. It's so weird," he added with a laugh. "I was just thinking of hiring someone to look after the shop and you just came walking out of the building. I overheard you're co-workers talk about you looking for a job once."
"What a weird coincidence." Summer remarked, not quite knowing what to say, slightly breathless from trying to keep up with his stride.
"What a lucky coincidence." he corrected. "Now if you choose to accept my offer-working with me I mean-you have to be willing to work from 3 in the afternoon till 3 i the evening."
Not certain if she heard him correctly, she asked,"sorry, what?"