"Hey!" I call out, making them both jump. "Need any help?"
"I, uh . . ." He quickly flips the book right side up. "Actually, yeah. Looking for some . . . books?"
"Zara can help you with that," I say sweetly, ignoring her death glare. "She's our resident expert on the romance section."
She slides off her stool. "I didn't know you worked here," Jacob says, fumbling with the book he's still holding.
"Really?" Zara raises an eyebrow. "I've only mentioned it like, every time we talk."
Jacob's face goes red. "Oh, right. I guess I . . . forgot?"
I bite back a grin as they stand there, both pretending this is some cosmic coincidence and not the world's least subtle attempt at flirting. Young love might be adorable, but watching these two dance around each other is going to give me secondhand anxiety.
"So . . . what kind of books are you into?" Zara asks.
"Oh, you know . . . all kinds?" Jacob shifts his weight. "Whatever you like is good."
I bite back a groan.She's giving you an opening, you adorable idiot. Ask her about getting coffee to discuss books, or something.
"Cool," Zara says after a painful pause. "Well, let me know if you need anything specific . . ."
"Yeah, okay." Jacob picks up another book, this time managing to hold it correctly. "I'll just . . . browse some more."
Oh, for heaven's sake.
I fight the impulse to bang my head against the counter. Instead, I dig through my purse, fingers closing around the movie vouchers I won at last month's quiz night. Time for some divine intervention.
"Oh no," I say loudly, making them both turn. "Zara, I completely forgot. I can't make that movie tonight. The one at the Roxy?" I wave the vouchers. "I feel terrible. If only we could find someone else who's free . . ."
Her eyes widen in horror. "Ivy—"
"They're showing that 80s classic,Pretty in Pinktonight," I continue innocently. "The movie theater's doing this whole John Hughes marathon. Would be a shame to waste the tickets."
I glance between them, waiting. Jacob keeps stealing hopeful looks at Zara while she studies the floor like it holds the secrets of the universe. The silence stretches painfully as neither of them makes a move.
"Hey," I say finally to Jacob, unable to bear this suffering any longer, "any chance you're free tonight?"
"I'm free!" He nearly trips over nothing. "Totally free. Completely. If . . . if Zara wants . . ." His face lights up with such genuine excitement that I have to bite back a grin. Poor guy's probably been rehearsing ways to ask her out for weeks.
"Perfect!" I beam at them both. "Zara, why don't you head out early? You can grab coffee before the show."
"But—" she starts.
"I insist." I'm alreadygrabbing her bag.
Main Street glows under fresh snow, strings of year-round twinkle lights catching on icicles. Sometimes I forget how lucky I am, having my own little piece of magic right here. This town has always been home in a way I can't explain.
When I turn back to the empty shop, my smile fades slightly. Part of me wishes I had a reason to close early, too, but all I've got waiting at home is Salem and cold leftover pasta. And maybe that's on me for always holding out for some perfect timing that never comes. For wanting someone who knows exactly what they want, when half the time I'm not even sure myself.
The sharp wind nipsat my skin as we stumble out of La Rosa Italiana, Amelia's arm linked through mine, while Vinnie trails behind, her coffee-brown hair catching the light as she juggles her phone—and what's left of my birthday cake—in its little pink box.
"Wait!" Amelia tugs me to a stop under the golden wash of window light. "You haven't opened my gift yet."
"Can't it wait until—"
"Absolutely not." She's already digging through her oversized bag, the one that contains half her closet and at least three emergency lipsticks. "This needs to be witnessed."
"Goody." I press my palm to my warm cheek.
