Page 38 of The Bookshop of Forbidden Books

“No, I closed it because I felt like it. Like I said, I was in the neighbourhood.”

The protective goggles made Mitch look like he’d stepped out of a Jules Verne novel – and made it quite difficult to take him seriously.

Anna switched on a small electric burner and put some water on to boil.

“Your dream – was it this restaurant?” Mitch asked, gazing around the place.

“It might be. One day.” Anna busied herself with grinding the beans.

She handed him a steaming cup of coffee, then began to circle the room slowly, describing how she planned to arrange the dining area, showing Mitch the bar where customers would wait for their table.

“Food pays the bills, but liquor brings in the most money. As soon as I can afford it, I’ll hire a good bartender. Cocktails are all the rage these days. Well, first I have to get all the work finished here. And as you can see, I’ve got my hands full.”

“I’m here to help.”

“That’s very generous of you, but you’ve got a bookshop to run, and that’s what contractors are for. Well, when they bother to show up.”

“I didn’t mean the renovations. I meant the other thing. The trouble your friend mentioned – the chef?”

She froze for a moment, blank-faced, then set her coffee cup down on the very edge of a table. Mitch caught it just before it tipped. A faraway look had come into her eyes, so much so that he felt compelled to wave a hand in front of her face. She didn’t even blink.

“You don’t know anything about my problems,” Anna finally said.

“I don’t need to know. I can be your alibi.”

“For what?”

“I’ll testify that I was with you.”

Recovering herself suddenly, she took a step backward. “What kind of problems do you think I have, exactly?”

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, it didn’t happen – because we were together. All we have to do is pick a place, a story. We were walking by the river, maybe, talking about a book or a recipe or” – he brightened – “a cookbook?”

Outside, a street sweeper rumbled past the window. Anna waited for the hissing of its brushes to fade.

“Did you think this all through before coming to see me?”

“I did,” he said.

“Why?”

“Well… because I just did, that’s all.”

Anna took him gently by the arm and led him toward the door. “That might be the kindest thing anyone’s ever offered to do for me, but I can’t accept. I don’t need an alibi. And you’ve already been through enough. I’ll come by the shop for my book as soon as I can, I promise.”

He left. Anna lingered in the doorway and watched him walk away. She would never admit it to anyone, least of all herself, but she was hoping he would turn around.

He didn’t.

Back inside, her eyes landed on the peonies. They were beautiful. Then she spotted the jacket draped over the back of a chair. She grabbed it and burst out into the street.

“Wait!” she cried.

Mitch only walked faster. She ran to catch up and planted herself in front of him, breathless.

“I’m not used to it,” she panted, holding out his jacket.

“To what?”