‘Stick of goodness, huh?’ Sam says when Lexi voices this. ‘That sounds like a euphemism if ever I heard one.’
‘One-track mind,’ Lexi says, like she’s not the one who’s been pushing them down this particular track.
He gestures vaguely towards her and her undone top button. ‘Can you blame me?’
She puts afritein her mouth and slowly sucks the rest in. He watches her, and a strange, soft animal sound escapes him.
‘I guess not,’ she says.
She lets the silence stretch out. She enjoys him looking at her, notes with pleasure his dilated pupils. They’re drunk enough now that she could ask him about his past and he would probably tell her. In fact, alcohol or not, she is pretty sure she could ask him for anything right now and he’d give it to her.
‘I feel like we should skip this steak and the dessert,’ she tells him. ‘And go straight—’
Sam cuts her off. ‘Nice try,’ he says in hiscome to bedtone. ‘We are doing this the right way. Getting to know each other over food, like grown-ups.’
Lexi takes a sip of her wine. ‘All right,’ she says. ‘Go on. What would you like to know?’
He thinks about it as he cuts a piece of his steak. Lexi is relieved to see that he does it the proper way, holding his fork between his thumb and his index finger and not gripped in a fist the way some Americans do. But the longer she waits, the more nervous she gets. He lifts the piece of steak to his lips, and then, right before he pops it in his mouth, he says, ‘What is it about the bookshop that means so much to you?’
‘Wow. We’re going there?’
She waits for him to finish his mouthful. There are downsides to eating with a civilised person, after all.
‘I’m not asking as your business rival. I’m asking because I want to know what makes you tick.’
‘Fair enough.’ She sees now that she shouldn’t have been so defensive, but really, who can blame her?
She takes a deep breath and tells him about her happy childhood summers in the bookshop with her grandmother, learning the trade and the love of books and the art of talking to people about them. She tells him that it feels like a sacred trust her grandmother left to her, that she wants to honour it and her place in the Capitol Hill community. And then she tells him the thing she only tells her most trusted friends.
‘I guess, being a little bit American in the UK, I never felt like I totally belonged. And with the red hair, and the Austen surname... But this bookshop is mine, you know? It’s my little kingdom, filled with the things I love, where I make the rules. It’s where I belong.’
‘That makes sense,’ he says. ‘It explains why you’re so protective over it. It’s not just, like, a business venture you’ve poured all your time and money into.’
‘It’s that, too,’ she says quickly. She doesn’t want Sam to think she’s anything less than professional. But all the professional stuff she does, she does because of what the bookshop represents.
‘Yes, of course it’s that too,’ he replies. ‘But, first and foremost, I guess it’s home.’
‘Exactly.’ She felt so vulnerable laying that out on the table, and for someone to understand so readily, to name it himself, feels like a gift. And for that someone to be the person she happens to have a raging crush on– and a hard-nosed businessman, no less– feels like a miracle. ‘You get it,’ she tells him, catching his hand, which is heading for thefritesand grabbing it, squeezing it. She intertwines her fingers with his. She feels safe and cared for suddenly, like maybe she belongs with Sam. Like maybe, even more than the bookshop,he’sthe home she’s been looking for.
It feels tricky and awkward to bring up something difficult after this lovely moment, this moment when Lexi feels like Samgetsher. But she wants togethim, too, and she’s missing a piece of the puzzle.
She takes an on-ramp onto the conversation about the ex-girlfriend who dragged him to DC. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Anything.’ He’s still holding her hand, his thumb stroking hers. That’s fine for one-handedfriteeating, but Lexi is guessing he’s going to need both his hands to eat the rest of this steak. As, come to think of it, is she. But sitting like this is so nice that she’s reluctant to let go.
‘What exactly happened with Amanda?’
‘Ah.’ He’s noticed, suddenly, that he needs his hand back.
Cutting the next piece of her steak, Lexi is glad to have something to do with hers, too– and somewhere to look beside directly at Sam. If she’s caused him pain by asking this question, she is afraid to see it in his eyes. And if he’s feeling guilty and sheepish... she isn’t sure she wants to see that, either.
‘I told you that she wasn’t as interested in me as she was in my family, right?’
Lexi nods, but stays silent, allowing space for him to keep speaking if he wants to.
‘She kept wanting us to go home to meet my family. At first, I found it kind of touching, you know? She wanted to know more about me and my background. But I also didn’t really want to take her home, because my parents– well, let’s just say I don’t have the easiest relationship with them.’
When Amanda contacted him about the shop being up for sale, it felt like an escape from proximity to his parents and a miraculous way out of his miserable job.Besides, she said,I can earn enough for both of us, if necessary.It seemed like a generous, supportive offer. But when they made it to his house for Thanksgiving– because, no matter how much you dislike your family, you can’t miss Thanksgiving– it was obvious just how she intended to make that money: by weaselling her way into the family business herself.
