“I’m afraid not. Foyles or Waterstones will probably have it in stock, though.”
“I see you don’t have any romance books on the shelves. Is there a reason for that?” I asked the question as innocently as I could, but I still saw a wary flash in the woman’s eyes.
“It’s the personal choice of the shop owner. I only work here two mornings a week, so I don’t have anything to do with stock-purchasing.” There was a slight edge in her voice that told me this was a question she’d been asked before, and she had her answer prepared to cut customers off before they could start complaining.
“That’s such a shame. I heard this shop used to be a mecca for romance readers. I wonder why it changed?” OK, so this was a massive long shot, but the shop assistant refused to rise to my bait, her face remaining politely neutral.
“I’m afraid I don’t know; I only started working here last year.”
Damn. It was clear I wasn’t going to get anything from her.
I glanced over the woman’s shoulder toward the door that I assumed led to the back room. Lily’s email had said that was where Maggie’s secret book club used to take place, so maybe I’d find some answers in there? But how to get past the pink-haired sales assistant who gave off strong don’t-mess-with-me vibes. What I needed was something to distract her so I could slip past.
At that moment, as if in answer to my prayers, I heard the bell above the door ring as another customer came in. Maybe this person would require her help so I could—
“Morning, Kat, how’s it going?”
Oh,SHIT! I hurriedly pulled the brim of my cap down lower, hoping with all my heart I was mistaken.
“Hey, Nick, you all right?” the pink-haired woman said, and I almost groaned. So, not mistaken, then. I needed to get out of here before Nick realized who I was and why I was here, but he was currently standing between me and the door.
“I just wanted to drop off these flyers for the event next Wednesday,” Nick said, his deep voice growing nearer as he moved past me.
I stayed still, my eyes fixed on the floor so he wouldn’t see my face. With any luck, he’d go into the back room and then I could escape.
“This customer came in asking for you,” the woman said.
What?No! I held my breath, mentally willing Nick to ignore me andcarry on with what he was doing, but even with my head down and the cap blocking my view, I could sense him stopping behind the counter.
“Can I help you?”
Oh crap, what was I meant to say? Maybe I could put on a fake accent and hope he didn’t recognize me? No, that was ridiculous—of course he’d recognize someone who’d stolen his mum’s magic book. I should just turn around and make a run for the door before he could stop me and hope—
“If the hat’s meant to be a disguise, I’m afraid it’s not working. You should have gone for a fake mustache instead.”
I snapped my head up to see Nick’s bright-blue eyes fixed on my face, his expression a mixture of amusement, confusion, and something else I couldn’t quite place.
“Kat, would you mind taking these flyers out the back and sorting them into six bundles, please?” he said to the pink-haired girl, still not taking his eyes off me.
“Sure thing,” Kat said, picking up the box. “Shout if you need me.”
She disappeared through the door, leaving Nick and me alone. He was the first to speak.
“Not that it isn’t lovely to see a return customer—albeit one who steals from me—but can I ask why you’re here, in a crap disguise, the one morning I’m not working?”
Argh, what was I supposed to say now? Should I make up some excuse about trying to find a dick lit book for an elderly male relative, or should I bite the bullet and tell him the truth? Nick clearly hated Darcy, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wouldn’t be willing to help me get him back into the book if he knew how. And given that I had no other proper leads at this point, maybe I should swallow my prideand ask for help. But if I was going to put Darcy’s fate in this man’s hands, I had to make sure I could trust him.
I cleared my throat. “I need you to tell me the truth, Nick. Is there something unusual about that copy ofPride and Prejudice?”
For the first time since he’d spotted me here, Nick’s eyes snapped away from my face. “Why do you ask that?”
“Last time I came in, you told me I should destroy it. Why would you want me to do that if it’s just an ordinary book?”
Nick didn’t say anything, and I found myself silently begging him to tell me the truth so I could finally talk to someone about Darcy. His eyes had settled on the countertop between us, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet.
“When I lost my mum, I destroyed all her personal books. I know that might not make sense to anyone else, but I just found being around them too painful. So when I saw you with her old copy ofPride and Prejudicethe other day, it threw me completely. I thought Mum’s books had all gone years ago, and it hurt me to realize one had been sitting on the shelves all this time.”
Nick’s eyes flicked back to mine, and I saw genuine anguish behind that icy blue. The poor man—he really was still grieving. Not that I blamed him; I still felt the raw pain ten years after I’d lost my mum. Yet something told me he still wasn’t being entirely honest. His mum’s book wasn’t just an ordinary copy ofPride and Prejudice, and he had to know that, so why wasn’t he telling me?
