Emery moved closer, her heart doing that all too familiar flip in her chest. “And what do customers want, exactly?”
“Hope,” Eveline said softly. “Possibility.” Her gaze lingered on Emery's face. “The courage to be vulnerable.”
The air between them seemed to vibrate with unspoken words. Emery felt herself leaning slightly forward.
“I saved you one,” Eveline said, breaking the moment to hold out a copy of a romance novel. “I thought you might enjoy it. The protagonist reminded me of you. Smart, passionate about books…” she paused, a smile tugging at her lips, “occasionally disaster-prone.”
Emery accepted the book, their fingers brushing in the exchange. “Thank you,” she said, touched by the gesture. “I'll start it tonight.”
The bell above the door jingled, announcing Zara's arrival. She bounded in with her usual energy, then stopped short, taking in the rearranged shop.
“Whoa,” she said, eyes wide. “Did I miss something? Since when are romance novels our featured display?”
“Since now,” Eveline said simply.
Zara looked between Emery and Eveline, a knowing smile spreading slowly across her face. “Riiight,” she drawled. “Thiswouldn't have anything to do with last night's impassioned defense of the genre, would it?”
“It's a business decision,” Eveline insisted, though her renewed blush suggested otherwise. “The Romance Book Club brings in customers. We should capitalize on that.”
“Uh-huh,” Zara said, clearly unconvinced. “Pure capitalism. Nothing to do with any… personal revelations.”
Emery busied herself arranging bookmarks, pretending she couldn't feel the weight of Zara's scrutiny. The younger woman was far too perceptive for comfort.
“Actually,” Zara said, setting down her bag, her face a picture of innocence, “since we're rearranging things, I've been meaning to organize the rare books section in the storage room. Emery, would you mind helping me? There's a first edition I've been trying to find for ages.”
“Now?” Emery asked, she’d been hoping for coffee.
“Perfect time,” Zara said. “Before customers arrive. Eveline, you don't mind if I borrow Emery for a bit, do you?”
“Not at all,” Eveline said, though her eyes narrowed slightly at Zara's too-innocent expression.
Emery followed Zara to the back of the storage room, where floor-to-ceiling shelves created narrow aisles barely wide enough for one person. The rare books section occupied the furthest corner, dimly lit and cramped.
“So, what are we looking for?” Emery asked, surveying the packed shelves.
“Oh, just a… rare book,” Zara said vaguely, inching toward the door. “I think I hear the phone. Why don't you get started, and I'll be right back?”
Before Emery could protest, Zara had slipped out, closing the door behind her with a decisive click. Emery sighed. So much for subtlety. There was a distinct air of a set-up wafting around.
She'd just started examining the shelves when the door opened again and Eveline stepped in.
“Zara said you needed help finding something?” she said, letting the door swing shut.
Emery turned, then froze as she realized how close they were standing in the narrow aisle. “Actually, I think Zara might have been—”
“Setting us up?” Eveline finished, one eyebrow arched.
“Yeah,” Emery said, suddenly very aware of how little space separated them. “She's not exactly subtle.”
“Neither is Maya,” Eveline said with a sigh. “She texted me three times this morning asking if I'd 'made a move yet.' Her words, not mine.”
Emery laughed, the sound a bit breathless in the small space. “They mean well.”
“They're meddlers,” Eveline said, but she was smiling a little.
They stood in silence for a moment, neither moving away despite the cramped quarters. Emery could smell Eveline's perfume, that subtle hint of vanilla that had haunted her dreams.
“About last night,” Eveline began, her voice low.
