My phone buzzes. A group text from the book club.
Amber:Don’t forget. Bookaholics Anonymous is tonight at 7pm at my house.
Caroline appears from the stockroom with a box of new arrivals.
“The book club is meeting tonight. You sure you don’t want to join?”
“Maybe another night. I have to study.”
“You’re always studying.”
“No, I’m not. Sometimes I’m here working for you.” She grins at me like she’s won.
“But what about taking some time to do something fun?”
“This is fun. Shelving books. Discussing your love life. I’m living the dream.” She starts unpacking another box as if to prove her point. “For what it’s worth, I think you and Mr. Avery are cute together.”
“We’re not together.”
She gives me a teasing look. “You seemed cozy enough. Very close. With coffee.”
“Why does everyone keep emphasizing the coffee?”
“Because it’s code for ‘we were about to kiss but got interrupted.’” She holds up a new romance novel. “I’ve read enough of these to know the signs. You’re in Act Two. The almost-kiss is required.”
“My life is not following a romance novel structure.”
“Isn’t it though?” She shelves the book with the others. “Let’s see: grumpy/sunshine dynamic, enemies to lovers, forcedproximity due to landlord/tenant situation, mysterious letters creating emotional connection?—”
“How do you know about the letters?”
“I see you checking the mailbox seventeen times a day. I see the way you smile when there’s a new one and then disappear into the office to read it.” She pauses. “Also, you accidentally left one on the counter last week, and I may have glanced at it.”
“Caroline!”
“I didn’t read the whole thing! Just enough to know that someone is writing you very sweet, vulnerable letters and you’re falling in love with them while simultaneously developing feelings for Mr. Avery.” She grins. “It’s complicated and romantic.”
“It’s stressful.”
“Same thing.”
The shop bell chimes. Michelle enters carrying two coffee cups and wearing her “we need to talk” expression.
“What’s that face all about?”
Michelle steers me toward the reading nook in the corner, away from Caroline’s gleeful eavesdropping. “Okay. Real talk. What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on.”
“Grandma Hensley says you and Scott were about to kiss in your kitchen.”
“We were not about to—okay, maybe we were. But that doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means you’re attracted to him.”
“I’m attracted to good coffee and cat videos. That doesn’t mean I’m in love with them.”
“You’re deflecting.”
