“That's… incredibly romantic,” Emery said softly, heart about to break.
Abe nodded. “She kept every one. Had them all bound up in a little leather book.” He tapped his cane against the wooden floor. “Not what you'd call great literature, mind you. I'm no Wordsworth. But they were honest.”
“Sometimes honesty is more important than literary merit,” Emery said.
“Precisely.” Abe focused on her with surprising intensity. “That's what makes a good writer, I think. The courage to be honest, even when it's difficult. Especially when it's difficult.”
Emery felt a twinge of guilt at his words. Here she was, writing a novel inspired by Eveline while actively deceiving her about her identity. What would Abe think if he knew the truth? Would he still look at her with such affection?
“Your writing,” Abe continued, oblivious to her internal struggle, “is it for yourself, or do you share it with the world?”
Emery hesitated. She needed to cool it with the lies. “I… share it, sometimes.”
“Good.” He nodded approvingly. “Words are meant to be read, stories meant to be told. Keeping them locked away serves no one.”
Before Emery could say anything, Eveline emerged from the back office, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in that way that always made Emery's heart skip. She spotted them in the corner and approached, eyebrow raised.
“I see Abe has found you hiding away,” she said. Her tone was neutral, but there was a hint of curiosity in her dark eyes as they landed on Emery's laptop.
“Not hiding,” Emery said quickly. She cleared her throat, remembering that she was going to try harder to be truthful where she could. “Just, um, taking advantage of the quiet to catch up on some… writing."
“Oh?” Eveline's other eyebrow joined the first. “You're a writer?”
“Oh, no, not really, just messing around.” So much for being truthful.
“She's being modest,” Abe said. “I caught a glimpse. Quite poetic, I'd say.”
Emery shot him a panicked look, but Eveline's interest was clearly piqued.
“What sort of writing?” she asked.
Emery was starting to panic, she could feel her heart beating too hard in her chest. Then the shop bell rang and she let out a breath. Zara burst through the door with such excitement that even Eveline looked startled.
“You'll never believe it!” Zara said, waving her phone triumphantly. “We've gone viral!”
“We've what?” Eveline said.
“The bookshop does have social media accounts, you know,” Zara said, thrusting her phone toward them. “I try to keep them up to date. And the post I made about the Romance Book Club has exploded. We've gained over a thousand followers since yesterday!”
Emery's stomach dropped. “A thousand followers?”
“Yep.” Zara scrolled through her phone, showing them a series of photos. “I posted these pictures from the club meeting, and they've been shared hundreds of times. People love the idea of a 'hidden gem' bookshop hosting romance enthusiasts.”
Emery leaned forward to look, her heart rate accelerating when she spotted herself in the background of one photo, thankfully partially obscured by a bookshelf. Still, anyone who knew Emerald Pearl well might recognize her. Like her publisher, for example.
“I didn't realize you were taking pictures,” she said faintly.
“Oh, just a few for the shop's accounts,” Zara said, continuing to scroll. “Look, here's the best one. It’s you and Eveline arranging the chairs together, just your silhouettes. I captioned it 'The unlikely romance between books and their keepers' and people are obsessed with it.”
Emery glanced at the photo and felt her face flame. She wasn’t identifiable, that was the good news. The not so good news is that anyone even looking at the photo could see that there was tension there.
“People think you’re a couple,” Zara said helpfully. “The comments are all about the 'bookshop romance' vibe. It's great publicity.”
Eveline choked. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, don't worry,” Zara said, misinterpreting Eveline's horror as concern. “I haven't confirmed anything. But you know how people love to speculate. It's driving traffic to the website, too.”
“We have a website?” Emery asked weakly.
