“Mr. Bakerstone, how was the trip?”
An older wizard with a huge comb-over nods and smiles. “Addie, you’re just about the best there is,” he says in a deep Southern drawl. “Not only did you pick out the perfect book, but I enjoyed my hunt. I’d rather shoot magical animals any day than real ones.”
I smile and close the Ernest Hemingway tome that I’dselected for him. “I’m so glad. I’ll put it back on the shelf for you.”
As he heads toward the front door, a young woman with honey-colored skin jumps from a book. The grin on her face is so big that I can’t help but grin, too.
“Mila, did you love it?”
“Yes, Addie! Oh my gosh, that book had everything I wanted—romance, adventure, a funny sidekick.”
I laugh. “I knew you’d enjoy it.”
“I more than enjoyed it. It was swoonworthy.” She sighs dramatically. “You’re the best.” She grabs her hat and coat from the rack. “See you next week.”
“See you then.”
I close her book and add it to the one in my hands. The Bookshop of Magic was always my dream, and here I am, finally fulfilling that dream.
Mama comes over and smiles. “The ball’s tonight. Why don’t you go get ready?”
“You sure?” I slip the books I’m carrying back on their respective shelves. “There’s still a lot to do before closing up.”
She nods. “I’m sure. You’ve been working ten-hour days. You deserve to leave a little early to get ready. I’ll see you at the ball.”
“Okay.” I grab my coat and slide my arms into it. “Don’t be late. I have a feeling that Blair’s going to meet her match tonight.”
Mama laughs. “I won’t be. See you there.”
The gownthat Ovie’s chosen for me, is, let’s just say?—
“Monstrous,” Blair says, sweeping blush on her cheeks.
“You think?” I turn from side to side, eyeing the structured framework of felt that juts up from my shoulders beforebending down and latching onto my back. “I don’t know. I kind of like it. It has a BDSM feel to it.”
Chelsea laughs. “I guess Ovie wants you to be more open to exploring that side of yourself. You know, bend over and take your spanking, Addie.”
Silence blankets the room before the three of us burst into a fit of laughter. I sigh. “At least it’s not too itchy.”
I take one last look in the mirror. The hollows of my cheeks are shallower than they were two weeks ago. My appetite’s pitiful, but if my family notices, they haven’t said anything.
At least I have the bookstore. It’s a small consolation for everything that’s happened, but it’s what I need right now. It’s my anchor.
“Y’all ready?” Blair asks.
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
The music at the ball’s sweeping as always, as a string quartet plays something that suggests romance. Blair’s been dancing her head off as suitor after suitor—wizard, werewolf, vampire—have asked for her hand.
A few have approached me as well, but I’ve declined those offers.
Every once in a while as I’m scanning the crowd, I spot a headful of dark hair that makes my heart stutter to a stop, because I’m sure it’s Feylin.
But when the crowd parts and I get a better look at the face attached to the hair, disappointment sinks in.
He’s not coming. He’s never coming to one of these things again.
Fine. Good riddance. I don’t need love anyway.
