Jaime snorted. “Touché.”
“Besides, have you even read fiction?”
“Of course. That’s how I know I don’t like it.”
“Maybe you just haven’t read the right book yet.”
Jaime’s eyebrows rose. “Like some say you might not have found the right man yet?”
“Wow. That’s…so not in the same ballpark.”
Jaime nodded as they continued their little walk, pausing at several sections to inspect the books.
“What if we switch? I recommend a book to you, and you suggest one for me.”
“You’d read a biography?”
Olivia emitted a playful groan. “If I must.”
“I also read a lot of philosophy. That might be more your speed.”
Warmth spread through her at Jaime remembering their discussion from the bar. “Yes. I’d enjoy that more.”
“What about the biography of a philosopher?”
“Let’s not push it.”
“All right. What will you give me?”
Olivia grinned, once more unable to stop herself from bumping into Jaime. “I have to think about it.”
“TheBrightwood Fairis taking place next Saturday. I’ll be near the Artisan Grove around two. Maybe you’ll think of one by then, if you happen to be in the vicinity.”
“Yeah. That’s a distinct possibility.”
Olivia squealed, clutched the package to her chest, and ran inside her bungalow. She tore open the envelope and smiled. This was so perfect it almost hurt.
Jaime better like her choice. She wouldneveradmit the effort she put into selecting the perfect book. Olivia almost felt like she’d been preparing for the bar exam again. She’d even dreamed about it.
How utterly ridiculous, but what a responsibility!
She had spent several days on her research, foregoing so many contenders, most of them for being too sentimental. Once she settled on her choice, she ordered it, and in her excitement, didn’t realize it wouldn’t get delivered until today, Saturday, the same day she was supposed to meet Jaime at the fair.
Olivia rushed to the bathroom to shower. At least she’d prepared an outfit. She’d spent most of her morning choosing and discardingdifferent selections until settling on a pair of fitted dark blue jeans, a soft white short-sleeved blouse tucked in at the waist, and a lightweight olive-green jacket, just in case.
She paired it with ankle boots and simple gold hoop earrings, her hair loosely tied back in a low ponytail. It was comfortable, stylish, and just enough effort to look like she hadn’t overthought it—though she definitely had.
On her way out the door, she grabbed the book and shoved it in her purse before hurrying to her car.
She was running late.
By the time Olivia found a parking spot and made it to the fair, it was already fifteen minutes past two, but surely Jaime wouldn’t just leave.
She strode through the pathways they’d created leading her by various little booths, vendors selling 3D printed figurines and toys, candy, pickled vegetables of any kind, knives—she did a double take there—until she reached the Artisan Grove with its jewelry, paintings, drawings, and other arts and crafts items.
Would Jaime like the book? Perhaps it was too personal. Why didn’t she go for something more classic, likeThe Left Hand of Darkness? Jaime would have enjoyed the intellectual depth, but then again, she struggled with suspension of disbelief, so science fiction or fantasy weren’t good choices.
Olivia clutched her purse string, gazing around the various stalls, until Jaime once more appeared out of nowhere at her side.
