Page 42 of The Bookshop of Forbidden Books

“This morning, you offered to help me. I accept, on condition: that you let me help you, too.”

“Help me with what?”

“To eliminate your prosecutor. And let’s be clear that this is just a mutual aid agreement, nothing more.”

“Nothing more,” Mitch echoed.

Anna kissed him on the cheek, like they were old friends. Then they gathered up the remains of the picnic, stowed them in Anna’s bag and went their separate ways, each hoping that the other didn’t mean a word of what they’d just agreed.

Chapter 18

Madame Bergol

Two days later, Mitch dropped by Anna’s restaurant again. She was in the kitchen, in a foul mood, arguing with the tiler. The tiler had actually dared to tell her that the horizon was curved, which was why the last row of tiles disappeared diagonally behind the sinks.

“Straight lines were invented for a reason,” Anna was shouting. She couldn’t stand being treated like an idiot by a man. “Go fuck yourself on the curved horizon.”

Silence fell over the kitchen.

She hadn’t even said hello to Mitch yet, but she pulled him in as a witness. “Well?” she demanded, pointing at the tiles. “Are they straight or not?”

“They are a little crooked.”

“There. They’re crooked,” she said triumphantly to the tiler. “And this man is an architect. At least he knows how to do his job!”

The tiler seized his toolbox and stormed out of the restaurant, slamming the door so hard that the plate rack rattled on the wall.

“And don’t even get me started on the painters!” Anna fumed. Her chest was heaving, her jaw clenched. It may not have been her finest hour, but her rage caused her cheeks to flush in a most becoming way.

“They promised two coats,” she said, “and I can tell they only did one. Come on, take a look for yourself and tell me what you think.”

“In my capacity as an architect, you mean?”

“That’s not funny, and I’m not in the mood.”

For Mitch, every moment spent in Anna’s company was somehow both wonderful and terrifying. Wonderful, because she was the most extraordinary woman he’d ever met. Terrifying, because she made him feel like he could never be good enough to deserve her.

So he deliberately kept himself at a distance. The other night, on the bench, the scent of her perfume had driven him so wild that he couldn’t sleep. So much so that, by morning, he’d barely cared about Salinas anymore. Instead of obsessing over revenge, he’d found himself fantasizing about burying his face in the curve of her neck, where she smelled of soap, plaster and chocolate.

Anna scratched at the wall with a fingernail. The paint flaked away.

“See? One coat.”

“We can just ask them to come back and do another one. It’s not the end of the world.”

Mitch’s mild response disappointed her, though she was careful not to show it. She’d hoped he would take more of an interest in her problem, maybe even offer to apply the second coat himself. He’d promised to help her, hadn’t he? She felt frustrated, though she knew perfectly well that it wasn’t really about the paint. When Mitch had fixed that pipe in the kitchen, and even more so on the bench by the river, she’d been overwhelmed by how badly she wanted him to kiss her. And by how badly she wanted to run away so he wouldn’t. She’d even climbed up that stupid hill, pretending she wanted to watch the sunset.

“Well, I’ve got work to do,” she said now, crisply, “and I’m sure you do too. I’ll stop by the bookshop after I’m done murdering the painters. And on that note, don’t kill that prosecutor without me, okay? We have an agreement.”

“I promise,” Mitch said dryly.

“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page about that.”

He wondered crossly why she was obsessing over crooked tiles and a coat of paint when they could be sitting on some café terrace instead, enjoying the warm breeze and sharing a perfect afternoon.

She kissed him on the cheek to send him on his way, which irritated him more than he was willing to admit. Still, it allowed him to enjoy another intoxicating whiff of soap, plaster and chocolate – this time with a tinge of acrylic paint, which wasn’t unpleasant either.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said from the doorway.