Right now, though, she is too giddy to care. She’s too giddy to have her guard up when he asks how things are at the shop, too. All the shop worries are right there at the top of her mind and on the tip of her tongue, her thoughts oscillating wildly between the butterflies of being deep in a crush, the sickening worry of those two lines on the graph, the frustration that those two things are not, in fact, unrelated, and her anger at The Owner of the Other Bookshop, who in her head she keeps separate from her lovely boyfriend. (Boyfriend? Is that what he is? Is that what he’s becoming?) It’s easier that way, easier than acknowledging the reality that they are the same person. It’s a lot to keep track of. No wonder Lexi isn’t sleeping well these days.
‘Actually,’ she tells him, ‘they’ve been better.’
Sam’s hand squeezes hers. ‘How so?’
Lexi almost laughs at his formal phrasing, but she’s learned to restrain herself over the years and accept that this is just how some Americans speak. It’s not all the’sup, dudesof TV shows. It’s alsoluncheoninstead of lunch and always replyingyou’re welcomeor at leastmm hmmwhen someone says thank you, even it’s just someone you’re holding the door open for.
‘The numbers. They’re not looking good. Like I said before, one of my best booksellers wants a pay rise, and she deserves one, too. They all do. But my accountant has basically told me that if I start going there, I’m screwed. That the bookshop’s future is hanging in the balance as it is. I’m worried she’ll leave, and I’m sad I can’t do more for her.’
‘That sucks.’
‘Yeah. It really does.’ She looks at him, trying to decide how honest to be. It’s hard to break the habit of suspicion. ‘With a good bookseller– it’s not just their job, you know? It’s their whole identity. Their friends stop by to visit and walk away from the shop with tote bags full of books they’ve recommended. They preach the virtues of independent bookshops far and wide and spread the word about how important it is not to shop at the Bad Place.’
‘The bad place, as in my shop?’
Lexi laughs. He’s several rungs down on the ladder of evil.
‘No. The Bad Online Place.’
‘Ah.’ A pause, and then: ‘You don’t think it’s a little much to ask booksellers for their whole identities in exchange for not much more than the minimum wage?’
She’s pleasantly surprised that a cut-throat businessman would think of it this way. ‘I do. But that’s just it. Idon’task for that. A really good bookseller pours so much passion into the job that it just kind ofhappens. Of course, that kind of good will is what the entire publishing industry is built on. Which is how people end up getting taken advantage of. I definitely don’t want to be that kind of boss.’
Another squeeze of his hand. ‘I bet you’re a great boss.’
‘I hope I am. Sometimes I think I care about people too much to be the hard-nosed businesswoman the shop needs to stay afloat, you know?’
He’s quiet. Lexi wonders if this stuff has ever occurred to him. Because evidence suggests that being a hard-nosed businessman is his top priority. Should that make her like him less? Probably, but it’s too hard to tell with his warm hand in hers, his index finger drawing circles at the base of her thumb.
‘My booksellers are so fiercely loyal that it comes naturally to want to be fiercely loyal back.’ Lexi feels herself getting choked up, a lump forming at the base of her throat.
Sam drops her hand and she panics briefly that she’s lost him, that she’s too emotional, that she’s scared him off, but if a lump in the throat is too much for him, it’s probably best that she finds out now. Because there’s plenty more where that came from and she needs to be with someone who’s going to be okay with a little emotion, or maybe a lot of it.
It turns out, though, that he was only letting go of her hand to put his arm around her shoulder: a side hug of sorts.
‘You’re lovely– you know that?’
Lexi is glad Sam is steadying her with his arm around her, because she’d be knocked sideways otherwise. She’s never been good at taking a compliment, but she’s learning.
‘Thank you,’ she forces out.
‘You’re welcome,’ he says. ‘Thank you for telling me that. I know you’re basically sleeping with the enemy at this point.’
He runs his hand down Lexi’s arm and takes her hand back. She likes that he seems to feel the need to be attached to her. It’s very much mutual. She is pretty sure it’s going to feel like she has a phantom limb when she has to turn left and he has to turn right at the corner of 7th and Penn.
‘I’m very muchnotsleeping with the enemy,’ she reminds him. ‘Dinner first, remember?’
‘Ah, yes.Hopingto sleep with the enemy, then.’
‘That might be worse, actually.’
They’re at a crossroads. They watch the light turn red, then white, then red again. They’re still standing there.
‘You’re right,’ Sam says. ‘Sleeping with someone can just be a foolish mistake. Buthopingto sleep with someone... that’s more than a temporary lapse of judgement. That’s serious.’
He searches Lexi’s eyes, wanting her, probably, to say that yes, thisisserious, sheisserious, her heart is seriously in peril if any of this goes wrong.
And, of course, it will go wrong, won’t it? How can it not? Heisthe enemy. Or at least the friendly rival.
