Eveline stared at Emery across the shop, her mind racing. Emery, who somehow knew publishing inside and out. Emery, who could discuss romance novels with such authority. Emery, who was secretly writing a romance manuscript. Emery, whose “old college friend” had just shown up looking polished and professional, nothing like the awkward, slightly chaotic woman Emery described from her university days.
Eveline shook her head. No, she was reading too much into things. She was getting paranoid, foolish.
Emery glanced up then, caught Eveline staring, and smiled, that same slightly nervous, endearingly lopsided smile that had become so dear to Eveline over the past weeks.
No, Eveline told herself firmly. There was surely a reasonable explanation. She was letting her imagination run wild, seeing connections where none existed. After all, the idea that Emery, her Emery, who knocked over books and spilled coffee and blushed at the slightest provocation, could secretly be Emerald Pearl, bestselling romance novelist and literary phenomenon…
It was utterly unthinkable.
Wasn't it?
Eveline laughed, half to herself. She really was getting loopy in her old age.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Emery clutched the envelope in her coat pocket as she walked to The Turned Page, her heart hammering against her ribs. Monday morning had arrived with merciless speed, bringing with it the deadline she'd set for herself. Today was the day she would finally tell Eveline the truth. There was no putting it off now. She’d spent most of Sunday in Eveline’s arms, but the day had been ruined because all she could think about was that it could be the last time.
After days of agonizing over just what exactly she was going to say, over how on earth she was supposed to explain any of this, she’d finally given up and decided to play to her strengths. So she'd written it all down, who she was, what she did, why she'd hidden it, how sorry she was. The words had flowed better on paper than they ever could in person, where she knew she’d just stumble over explanations and excuses.
The envelope felt impossibly heavy in her pocket, weighted with secrets and consequences. She'd sealed it last night, her heart hammering in her chest as she did so, knowing that shecould be destroying everything that she’d begun to realize that she wanted.
And just in time, she thought grimly. Domi's unexpected appearance at the shop on Saturday still made her stomach clench with anxiety. That hadn't been a coincidence; Domi never did anything without purpose. She'd been sending a message, a warning. Emery knew her agent well enough to understand that if she thought it would make Emery write faster, Domi wouldn't hesitate to tell Eveline everything.
“Beat you to it, Domi,” Emery muttered under her breath as she rounded the corner onto the familiar street. The bookshop's sign swung gently in the morning breeze, and Emery paused for a moment, wondering if this was the last time she'd see it as a place of belonging rather than loss.
She took a deep breath and pushed open the door, the familiar bell announcing her arrival.
Eveline looked up from behind the counter, a smile spreading across her face. “Good morning,” she said, and the warmth in her voice made Emery's resolve waver.
“Morning,” Emery said, moving toward the counter where Eveline stood sorting through a stack of mail. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her coat, suddenly clumsy with nerves.
“Coffee's fresh,” Eveline said, gesturing toward the back room. “I made it strong, the way you like it.”
“Thanks,” said Emery, unable to meet Eveline's eyes. She stepped forward, intending to move around the counter, when her hip caught on the edge. The display of postcards that Eveline had carefully arranged that morning wobbled precariously for a second before cascading onto the floor in a kaleidoscope of colorful images.
“Oh no, I'm sorry,” Emery gasped, dropping to her knees to gather the scattered cards. “I don't know why I'm so—”
“Clumsy?” Eveline finished for her with a grin, crouching down to help. “It’s rapidly becoming one of my favorite things about you, if I’m going to be honest.”
Their hands brushed as they reached for the same postcard, and Eveline took the opportunity to capture Emery's fingers in her own. “Are you all right? You seem tense this morning.”
Emery looked up and found Eveline's face so close to hers, those dark eyes filled with genuine concern. “I'm fine, just… distracted.”
Eveline leaned forward, pressing a soft, swift kiss to Emery's lips. “Better?”
Emery's heart twisted painfully. After today, would Eveline ever look at her like this again? Would she ever get kissed like this again? Would she deserve to be kissed like this again? It was all her own fault, she knew that, but that didn’t make it any easier, not really.
“Emery?” Eveline prompted, concern deepening in her expression.
It was now or never. With trembling fingers, Emery reached into her pocket and pulled out the envelope. Before she could lose her nerve, she placed it on the counter.
“What's this?” Eveline asked, rising to her feet with a handful of postcards.
Emery stood too, taking a deep breath. “Something I need you to read,” she said, voice wobbly and legs even more wobbly still.
Eveline's brow furrowed as she set down the postcards and reached for the envelope. “Why? What is it? What—”
The shrill ring of the shop phone cut through the moment. Eveline hesitated, her fingers just inches from the envelope.
