“Michelle,” he said, closing the book and setting itaside.
“Slowday?”
“It’s aghosttown.”
The cart that held books was empty, and all the shelves looked pretty tidy from my quick glance. “Anydeliveries?”
“Jenny and I opened all the boxes and put them away already. There’s nothing to do but sit and watch the clock. Or, grab a book and startreading.”
“I’m not really areader.”
“I don't think you’re allowed to work at a bookstore andnotread.”
I shrugged. “I can’t remember the last time I read something that wasn’t forschool.”
Rainier shook his head, but smiled. “Well, then I think we just found our mission for the night. What kind of shows do youwatch?”
“Mostlyreality.”
He dragged me over to the biography section of the store and started grabbing books down. “What about this?” Rainier put a book in my hand. It was some B-list celebrity’s tell-all aboutHollywood.
“That’s what tabloids are for. I don’t need to read this to know what’s going on intinseltown.”
“Fine, maybe we need to try a different section,” he said, putting the book back. “What about movies? Do you like romantic comedies?” Rainier walked off in the direction of the romance books before I could answer. I didn’t follow. When he realized I wasn’t behind him, he stopped and looked at me inquestion.
“I don’t doromance.”
"What kind of girl doesn't likeromance?"
"I don't.” My voice wasshrill.
“Okay…” he said slowly, and lifted his brows. “What about young adult? I’m sure we could find something you likethere.”
He walked off again, and this time I followed. Rainier asked a lot of questions about what I liked. Science fiction? Nope. Dystopian? Meh. Fantasy? As long as it wasn’t toonerdy.
He eventually pulled a book down and handed it to me. The cover had a blonde girl wearing a red dress with a guy standing behind her. Rainier reassured me it was one of the popular ones that Jenny always recommended to girls in their late teens or early twenties. I turned it over and read the description. It sounded good, but I didn’t want him to thinkhe’dwon.
“Have youreadit?”
“It’s not mything.”
“But you think I shouldreadit?”
“Yeah.”
“How about this? I’ll read it whenyoudo.”
“Like abuddyread?”
“Whatever you want to call it. But if you want to get me reading so badly, you’re going to have to do itwithme.”
“The things I do for literacy.” He threw his hands up before grabbing a second copy from theshelf.
“Oh, shut up! I’m literate." I smacked him with the paperback in my hands. "I just don’t likereading.”
“Well, I’m hoping Jenny’s right, and this changesyourmind.”
We both went back to the front counter with our identical books and started reading. I sat down in the chair while he stood next to me. I was only slightly aware of him as he turned pages, or as he tapped his fingers and shifted the way he stood. And I definitely didn't notice the way something in the book made himsmile.
