Page 39 of Only Lovers in the Building

“On Lincoln.”

“Thanks. I’ll check it out.”

“Since we’re on the topic of books—”

“A topic you seem to like.”

“I finished yours.”

“I didn’t write it, but go on. What did you think?”

“The Sweetest Lie is a deceiving title. You didn’t tell me it’s basically soft core—”

“It’s not!” Lily interrupted. “It’s explicit, but we’re all adults.”

“It’s definitely not for kids!” he said cheerily. “About the spa, are you coming or not?”

Her skin was fried. She needed a facial. “I’m in!”

Located in a boutique hotel with a side door reserved for non-guests, the lovely day spa was officially Lily’s local spot. She and Noah reclined in the Relaxation Suite between various treatments, sipped green tea, and snacked on fruits and nuts. Noah gave her a full update. He told her about the latest watch he’d sold, the new shoes he’d bought, and the guy he’d ghosted. “How about you, little Lily?” he asked. “How are things moving along with Ben?”

“We’re friends. That’s good enough,” she said. “My life is too complicated as it is.”

“You’re the only new friend I plan on making this year,” he said dryly. “Everyone else better come with some benefits.”

They parted ways in the early afternoon. Noah gave her directions to the bookstore and strode off with a jaunty wave. Lily took her time, stopping at the stalls of a farmers market where she picked up an assortment of artisanal soap. Next she perused the shops on Lincoln Road, reminding herself every few blocks that, with no immediate source of income, she couldn’t afford to splurge. Eventually she found the bookstore. It was a glossy tourist trap filled with travel books, city guides, and novels of various genres with Miami in the title. Even so, she found what she was looking for: the fancy leatherbound journals all bookstores were required to carry. No more posting her embarrassing thoughts online. Journaling was the way to go. She made her purchase and was on her way out when someone tapped her shoulder.

“I’m not surprised you found your way here.”

Ben’s warm voice filled her ear. Lily closed her eyes to savor it, before swiveling around to face him as if it cost her nothing. He looked like he always looked, that is, a little rumpled in an untucked button-up shirt that would have looked fantastic if ironed. The look was slightly elevated by a smart pair of rimless eyeglasses. The man was a dream.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Did you misplace your Michelin Guide or map of the Florida Keys?”

“I told you. I’m grading papers,” he answered.

“Here?” She looked around. “Where?”

“Come. I’ll show you.”

Ben extended an ink-stained hand, which she readily accepted. He led her through the store and up a flight of stairs to what looked like a coffee bar. However, the walls were lined with shelves of clothbound classics and weathered paperbacks. Farther back were crates of vinyl records and a whole section devoted to vintage magazines.

Lily clutched his hand and brought it to her thumping heart. “What is this place?”

“A lounge, a bar, a used bookshop.”

“Oh my God!” She pointed to the stack of classic romance novels. “Why isn’t any of this stuff on the ground floor?”

“We like it like this.”

She imagined so. The lounge had a private-club vibe where small groups gathered to talk over Latin jazz. Ceiling fans rotated overhead, and tall windows let in fractured light through hurricane shutters. It was marvelous.

Ben showed her to his table. He had a corner booth to himself. “Most Sundays, you’ll find me here.”

“If you were stationed up here, how did you know I was downstairs?” she asked.

“I didn’t,” he said. “It’s just luck that I went down to grab this.” He held up a highlighter. “The manager is a friend. He lets me borrow office supplies. What do you have there?” Ben pointed to the paper bags still clutched in her hand.

She opened one and pulled out a chunky yellow bar. “Handmade soap,” she said. “This one has lemon, turmeric, and beeswax.”