“Yes?” I’m not sure why I say it like a question, but I do.
“Counterpoint.” Hayley raises a finger. “Let’s not forget that he could have been the hero all along. What’s a grander gesture than keeping the imprint running just so he can publish Martha’s books?”
My friends are voicing out loud the two arguments going round and round in my head.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be the one to say this,” Evangeline says, “but real life can’t always be like a romance novel.”
Hayley and I stare in shock, mouths literally agape. The woman who thought it was a good idea to throw invasion of privacy out the window and matchmake patrons based off their reading history in the name of love is now saying life isn’t a romance novel?
“I know. I’m surprised too. But it sounds to me like Julien is trying to do the right thing all around. He’s trying to avoid the miscommunication trope and third-act breakup.”
Okay, this sounds more like the Evangeline Kelly I know. Always bringing everything back to her beloved romance book tropes.
“He still believes in you and supports you and is trying to make your dreams come true by contacting other editors. But he has to do what’s right for his family’s company too. He’s trying to be both a good partner to you while also being a good leader to a smaller press that has to compete against the big five publishing houses.”
“I want to meet him,” Hayley interjects. “Saturday night. My house. Evangeline, you bring Tai. I’ll talk Levi into driving over from Turkey Grove. Martha, I know Julien is probably busy, but make sure he knows he needs to take some time to relax too. Kidnap him if you have to. I’ll make dinner, and we’ll hang out. Maybe play some games. It’ll be fun.”
“Don’t interrogate him,” I warn.
Hayley places a palm over her heart and dons an innocent expression. “Who me? I would never.”
Evangeline snorts.
Hayley grins mischievously. “If he’s hero material like Evangeline claims he is, then he has nothing to worry about, right?”
32
Julien kept telling himself the long hours he’d been putting in at the office would eventually lessen after the first initial transitional months. It was a complex process, disassembling a publishing imprint. First steps had been taken regarding Squire’s closing. Authors had been contacted, and multiple conversations were in the works regarding ISBNs and reverting of book rights. Certain contracts had needed to be canceled. Distribution platforms had all been updated, and Gena was working on removing future book listings from retail sites. That was only the tip of the iceberg. There was still a long list of things to do, and everyone’s workload would be heavy for the foreseeable future.
On top of that, there had been a lot of shuffling going on across all the imprints. Unfortunately, he’d had to give some of the Squire staff notice of job termination, but others had been interested in linear shifts to a different imprint or even transitioning to an entirely different department once things with Squire were settled.
There were a lot of meetings with leadership and department heads. A lot of emails and memos to keep up with. Julien felt like he’d been glued to his phone.
If he’d thought his dad would be at the office less after makinghis retirement announcement, he would’ve been sorely mistaken. John King had taken up real estate in the space directly to Julien’s right. Wanted to make the turnover go as smoothly as possible, he’d said. All Julien could do was grind his teeth behind a forced congenial expression. That, and hope all these extra hours they were putting in meant his dad would be home basking in his retirement at an earlier date on the calendar and that the added stress wouldn’t do his health any permanent harm.
Unfortunately, the longer days meant Julien hadn’t had any time to visit his favorite librarian in Little Creek. They’d texted throughout the day here and there and talked on the phone in bed at night before going to sleep, but it wasn’t enough. He drifted off each night unsatisfied, still hungry for her.
He wanted to hold her in his arms. Kiss her sweet lips. He wanted to be able to look into her eyes and know for sure that she was okay with his decision regarding Squire and her books. She said she was, but Julien feared she was just putting on a brave face and pushing down the more uncomfortable emotions. But he couldn’t really know for sure, could he? If only one of the editors he’d contacted on her behalf would get back to him.
And to top everything off, she’d told him about the uncertainty regarding the future of the children’s programs in Little Creek and her position at the library. He’d been livid when he’d heard there was even a possibility that the money he’d given her wouldn’t be used how they’d both expected it to be. He was angry with the trustees, but he was also angry with himself. He should’ve thought to put some stipulations on its endowment in writing. Instead, he’d been too desperate to think straight at the time, and his lack of forethought had let Martha down a second time. A simple restricted donation made directly to the library would have saved her from all of this, and he hadn’t even stopped to consider it that day in his office.
After talking with her, he’d immediately tasked Tomiko with getting him Ryan’s number at the regional library. That phone call had been promising. As had the others he’d made. The fight hadn’t been won yet, but there was at least a battle plan now in place.
“Turn right,” his GPS instructed.
When Martha had invited him to a little get-together with her friends, he’d been quick to agree. Not only was he desperate to see her face-to-face, but this was a perfect opportunity to prove that they weren’t from two separate worlds. Or that, even if they were, they could reside in both. His goal was to charm his way into her friend group. He had plenty of experience using charisma to seal deals. This shouldn’t be any different.
A few minutes later, Julien pulled up to a small house on the edge of town. He killed the engine and grabbed the pink box of macarons he’d picked up from a French patisserie near his office. There were a few other cars in the driveway and parked along the street, so it looked like he was the last one to arrive. He was just raising his hand to ring the doorbell when the door swung open.
“You made it,” a woman said, stepping aside to give him room to enter. “I was afraid something was going to come up at work and you’d cancel at the last moment. I’m Hayley, by the way. One of the other librarians.”
Was it his imagination or did Julien detect a hint of challenge in her words? Or was it accusation? “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He presented the macarons to her. “Thank you for having me.”
Hayley lifted the lid, taking in the rows of pastel cookies. Her gaze rose back up to his. “Tell me the truth. Is this an ingrained good manners hostess gift, or are you trying to bribe your way into our good graces?”
Surprised laughter shot from Julien at her unfiltered candor. “Can it be both?”
She plucked a light pink cookie from the box—classic strawberry buttercream, if he remembered correctly—and took a bite. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she made appreciative noises as she chewed.
