‘I’ll drop by every now and again and water the garden and keep an eye on things,’ Emma said, breaking into Bel’s thoughts. She more than anyone else knew what a huge step this was going to be, and what it took for Bel to even consider doing something like this. She might not be completely sold on the whole idea, but Bel knew her friend wouldn’t hold her back.
The only person who’d been immediately excited by her decision to stay in WA with Tate had been Larkin, who of course, claimed complete responsibility for the match in the first place.
It was nice to have at least one ally. She knew Emma was happy if she was happy, but her support had been heavily shrouded in concern—unlike Larkin who’d been planning a couple’s get-together as well as regularly updating the group chats, which had gone from wedding texts to honeymoon photos and updates.
It had been three months since Bel had started her new job and she couldn’t have been happier. Terry was the best boss she’d ever worked for, though she only had one other to compare him to. Still, in a contest between him and the Dwyers, he came out miles ahead.
Bel had started placing reviews under books on the shelf to assist customers in choosing their next read. As she had done with her BookTok, she tried to make them stand out and offer something different to the same old boring book reviews she’d come across herself over the years.
Little Women: Please note the misleading title, these women are all normal size, but don’t let that deter you. This story has been loved through the generations and is well deserving of the title ‘classic’. If you haven’t read this book, I urge that you do so (I really must insist!) immediately … like,right now… why are you still standing there reading this review card? Pick up the book and head to the front counter!
Terry gave her strict instructions to continue her reviews and, as customers shared photos of them online, they began to draw a lot of attention to her BookTok page.
‘My kids showed me your tok-tik thing last night. Apparently, you’re famous,’ Terry said one day, poking his head around the corner of the office at the rear of the shop where Bel had been working.
Bel shook her head with a smile. How on earth had this man kept his business alive without having any clue about social media marketing? ‘TikTok is my guilty secret. It started out as a bit of fun, but it’s grown into almost a second full-time job, keeping up the content.’
‘It seems to be making a difference to the store. I’d forgotten Bree had set up an account for the shop a while ago, trying to drag her old dad into the future. So you maybe want to handle the social media side of things, you know, get it up and running?’
‘I’ve been thinking a bit about that,’ Bel said, eager to share her ideas. ‘Maybe I could do some author interviews for content across the shop’s social media pages? And do more events. Have book launches and author appearances, host some night events and have special out-of-hours access for readers who come along? That kind of thing.’
‘I’ve been wanting to do more along those lines. I haven’t had the time to dedicate to it. If you’re up for it, I’d love to delegate all that to you,’ he said.
‘Absolutely.’ Bel beamed. The ideas had been flooding her mind ever since she’d started working in the bookshop. There was so much potential to grow it into something even more amazing.
She was glad she had her job. She’d have gone mad sitting about at home all day without Tate. She still had to pinch herself, though, whenever she looked out at the view from the windows; she really was living a life of luxury, even if there were times when she felt it was all a little … cold. Tate didn’t have much in the way of personal items, and no photos of family decorated the apartment. She knew he had a much older sister—he being the later-in-life baby of older parents—and that his mother and father were both still alive. But he wasn’t really close to them. Instead of photos, he had art. Bel had tried to appreciate the expensive pieces hanging on his walls, but she just didn’t understand how something that looked like a painting one of Emma’s kids brought home from daycare could be worth that much money. The apartment was luxurious to a fault, but it lacked a soul.
And it didn’t feel like home. When her phone charger had refused to work one day, Bel had gone in search of a spare, certain that she’d seen one around. She’d opened drawers in the bedroom and found his incredibly organised socks, undies and clothing meticulously stored in his wardrobe, but no charger. She’d gone into the office and gingerly peered into his desk drawers. She rarely went in there. If he was working, she left him alone, and the door was always shut when he wasn’t there. It felt like she was trespassing, even though she lived there.
Opening a drawer beneath the desk very carefully so as not to disturb anything, she’d found a charger, but alsospotted something gold and shiny underneath and picked it up, curious. The slim lighter was elegant and screamed money, probably real gold. Certainly it was nothing like the plain old plastic ones they sold at Dwyers’. Turning it over, she’d discovered the letter L engraved on the other side and wondered who it belonged to. Clearly not Tate, since he didn’t smoke and it wasn’t his initial. Besides, it had looked far too feminine. Bel had placed it back where she’d found it and closed the drawer. She hadn’t stepped foot in the office since.
Tate’s work took him out of town a lot and he worried about her, always calling her mobile to check in. Sometimes he called through the day while she was at work, and she couldn’t always answer. Then he’d call the shop.
She’d apologised to Terry more than once about it, and tried to always catch his calls on her mobile, but Terry was understanding. ‘He’s clearly worried about his girl when he’s out of town. Nothing wrong with that.’
And there really wasn’t, she often told herself. He was being protective when he called, like he was when he asked her to promise not to go out alone.
‘Tate, I have lived on my own for a number of years now,’ she’d frowned when he’d first brought it up.
‘Yes, but not in a city,’ he’d countered.
‘It doesn’t seem like a terrifying place.’
‘I don’t want you going out when I’m not here.’
And it wasn’t like she was a big nightlife person. At night, she’d cook her dinner and then settle down to read. It passedthe time and kind of felt familiar—almost like her old life, before Tate had blown in and turned it upside down.
When Tate was home, they would always eat out and dress up, which was still fun, but Bel craved some normal time, just the two of them pottering about the apartment, spending lazy days watching movies or doing couple stuff, like cooking together. Tate wasn’t exactly into lounging around—he was always full of energy and wanting to go out and do something. She didn’t get much reading time when he was home either.
‘Do you have to read all evening?’ he’d said one night when they’d been lying in bed.
‘I haven’t picked up a book in days,’ she’d said with a laugh, before it became clear he wasn’t joking.
‘Every time I want to talk to you, you’ve got your face stuck in a book.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.’
‘Well, you wouldn’t, would you, when you’re too busy reading your smutty girl books. If you’re going to read, at least pick something a little more classy,’ he’d said, nodding down at the Jax Lexington book she held.
