“A man!” she squealed.
I brought my hands to my cheeks. “That explainssomuch. Do you think the final TV season is going to stick to the books?” I hoped not.
“That’s what they’re discussing now,” the tiny woman said. The way she said it though, it was as if her voice was dripping honey.
“No way. You heard something about production?”
“Heard? Honey, I was there!”
At the filming ofLandsome Roads? How was that even possible?
I brushed a fluff of brown hair out of my face. “You were on set? I’m sorry about this, but how do we know each other again?”
“How do we know each other? Honey, haven’t you been listening? We know each other from reading!”
Know each other from reading? It’d been ages since I was inside an English classroom, and I hardly had any friends or family members who were readers who could have introduced us. My literary circle was primarily composed of folks who were paid to interact with me—booksellers and librarians—and I’d seen their faces enough to know this woman wasn’t one of them. What did she say her name was again?
As if she could hear my thoughts, the woman laughed—bells tinkling under blue skies.
I felt a little funny. Faint, almost surreal. My sweater was suddenly too warm.
I looked around the lavish library room again and shivered. The windows weren’t just noticeably absent, the room was downright gloomy. I was lightheaded and panicky, and not only because I was probably losing my job while I whiled away the hours looking for a book I wasn’t going to read.
There was something unsettling about the woman’s wide, white smile. Her straw-colored hair was longer than before. I frowned. Wasn’t she wearing a fashion-forward version of a three-piece suit? The color of the outfit was the same as I remembered—the same shade as her hair, it occurred to me—but why was she in a full gown? In the public library? At 10:00 a.m.?
My mouth was dry, but I made the words come out. “It was really nice meeting you—seeing you again,” I corrected quickly, “but I’ve got to get going. Got to get back to work.”
The woman laughed again. Loudly. Too sparkly, as if I’d just told some amazing joke, but I didn’t think I’d ever told an amazing joke in my life.
She twirled a periwinkle ribbon in her hair that I swear was not there a moment ago. “We both know you’re not going in to work today.”
I was already turned toward the doorway, but I stopped. “How do you know that?”Of course.There was only one person who knew that and she had a terribly big mouth. “What did Sara tell you?”
“Sara? Oh, that poof brain? I wouldn’t want to be friends withher. I want to be friends withyou.”
“You said we met already.” I was still angled toward the exit but frozen as my mind raced. I couldn’t describe how badly I wanted her to say,“Hey, remember that cookbook club you thought about joining but then didn’t? Well, surprise, you actually did go to the first meetup. That’s where we met. I complimented you on your strawberry upside-down cake? It was so gooey. Remember? Remember all that?”
But she didn’t. Instead, the woman said, “Technically, you haven’t met me, but I’ve met you...through books.” She smiled, looking a little vulnerable for the first time. “Hi. I’m Sorrel. I know you’re not big into fairy tales, so you might not be familiar with my trope. Well,” she said with an essence of grand reveal, “I’m your Fairy Bookmother.” Sorrel went into a very deep curtsy.
And there she waited, head bowed, hands lifting the frilled edges of her light gold gown as if waiting for me to say something.
“Is this a prank?”
Sorrel looked up with surprise. “I’m your Fairy Bookmother.”
“My Fairy Bookmother?” I repeated.
She finally straightened. “You know, like Fairy Godmother but for books?”
My face must have been blank because Sorrel’s own was slightly dejected as if I’d put her favorite book on the shelf upside down. “It’s a new division, we’re still workshopping the name, but, Dottie”—and then she smiled so big I almost had to take a step back—“I’m here to make your dreams come true! I’m sending you to meet Ironclaw and everyone else inLandsome Roads.Isn’t that exciting?”
It took me a beat to find words, but then I understood. “Sorrel, I don’t cosplay in public. I hope you find a book club or something. It was nice meeting you.” I turned to leave, sweat beading on the center of my back. I had to get out of there.
“Not so fast, missy!” Sorrel moved in front of me, blocking the exit with her gown, which had grown even poofier. Her long eyelashes were tipped with periwinkle to match her ribbon. “Like I said, we’re a new division, and if I’m not going to get sacked, I need some quantitative data!”
“I can’t help you with that. I need to go.”
“But, Dottie,” she wailed, “you’re perfect! You spend all your time rereading the same series, you hardly have anyfriends—”
