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The bell jangled over the door to the book shop. It was late. People usually didn’t come in this late, just a few minutes before closing. Faith had been thinking about changing the hours. She could open a little earlier for the morning book hounds. Then again, her employees would balk, and besides, she was trying to get more evening foot traffic from the university students.
Her dad had told her Helene wasn’t a big enough town for a used book shop, but if it was big enough for a private university, she reasoned, it was big enough for a used bookstore.
With a sigh, she slid her current read, Dyin’ to be Your Lion, under the little shelf beneath the counter and pasted a smile on her face for the customers.
The woman who’d walked in was pregnant and accompanied by a large bear of a man. Faith’s imagination immediately went to her romance novel, where different kinds of wereanimals roamed the earth. It was an impossible idea, but it took her back to that night she’d had a few months ago with a different bear of a man.
He’d even growled. It had been so freaking sexy.
And the filthy things he’d whispered in her ear? Hot.
She was glad she had such a good memory, and just as glad that now she could peruse that special recollection at her leisure in her safe, comfortable life.
The pregnant woman carried a large handbag and Faith smiled wider, vowing to push her one-night-stand from her mind. That large handbag was probably filled with books. She loved taking in peoples’ used tomes to sell in her store—there was always potential for so much treasure. Walk-ins with handbags of books were her favorite only after estate sales.
“I am an author,” the woman said, walking up to the counter.
“Oh,” Faith said, surprised. “That’s cool.”
This wasn’t the first author to show up at her store. She got all kinds here, from experts on the local history, to fiction writers, to people publishing their memoirs and autobiographies.
“Are you local?” she asked.
“Yep,” the woman said. “I was wondering if you would stock a couple of copies of my book.”
“Sure,” Faith said. “Let’s see it.”
The woman pulled a paperback from her handbag. The book was evidently a romance novel, from the well-sculpted set of abs and manchest taking up most of the frame. The cover model held a hockey stick. Renegade Player, Faith read. By Nina M. Vidal.
“Wait,” Faith said. “You’re Nina Vidal? Of Nina’s Romance Spectacular?”
The woman leaned back and shot a significant look at her companion. “See? Some people have heard of me.”
“I follow your blog,” Faith said, feeling her cheeks stretch in a grin. “I had no idea you lived so close.”
“Yep,” Nina said. “I moved here a couple of years ago.”
“You didn’t say anything on your blog about authoring a novel,” Faith said.
“I wasn’t sure I’d get through it before this happened.” She gestured to her swelling belly.
“Well, I’m so glad you did!” Faith took a closer look at the man standing next to Nina. She whispered, “Is this...you know...the alphahole?”
Nina cackled, and the man offered Faith a sheepish grin and his hand to shake.
“I’m the very one,” the man said. “Jameson Cooper. Nice to meet you.”
“Faith Janowicz,” Faith said, shaking each of their hands in turn. “It’s so very nice to meet you both. So yes, of course we’ll stock your book. I’d even be happy to host an author event for you, if you like.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Nina said. “I’ll have to think it over.”
“Just let me know anytime, and I’ll make room for you,” Faith said.
She went over the details of taking author stock on consignment, and was delighted that Nina was just as cool in person as she seemed on her blog. What a fantastic evening. Small pleasures—that was what her life was about.
As Nina and Jameson turned to go, Faith said, “Wait, just one thing.”
“Sure,” Nina said.
“Do you have one more copy of your book? One that I could buy for myself and...maybe get autographed?”
With a big smile, Nina whipped another copy of Renegade Player from her bag, pulled out a Sharpie as well, and signed the cover page with a flourish.
Faith took some money out of her purse and handed it over.
Nina paused, her hazel eyes locked on the bill in Faith’s hand. “You know, I’d just give you the book for free because I like you, but...it’s my first sale. So yes, I will take your money.”
Faith laughed. “I am happily handing it over and I am honored to be the first purchaser. Thanks, Nina.”
“Thank you, Faith,” Nina said. “My dreams are coming true, one copy at a time.”
Nina and Jameson left, and Faith pulled Renegade Player closer to her. She couldn’t wait to get home and curl up with it on her couch. Maybe she’d stop at Cattywompus for some takeout, first. French fries and a good book—unbeatable evening.
Well, not entirely unbeatable. That one night that her employees had won a bet and sent her to Cattywompus for drinks...that had been an unbeatable evening. But the whole thing had terrified her. She wasn’t about to do that again; it wasn’t her.
She waited until the clock said nine p.m., then she locked the doors, counted out the cash register, and tucked the deposit bag into her purse. She was all set to stop at the bank and then Cattywompus, when the blaring ring of the store phone startled her.
Jumping, she held a hand to her chest. She really should turn the volume down on that thing. She picked it up before it could ring again. “Treasured Pages, this is Faith.”
“Ms. Janowicz?” a smoky female voice said.
“Yes, this is she.”
“This is Koffman’s assistant. Mr. Koffman would like me to tell you that, and I quote, ‘The old man finally kicked the bucket and the estate sale is tomorrow morning. It opens at eight, but we will let you in at seven-thirty.’ Can you be there?”
Yuck, that meant a very early morning drive into the mountains after what Faith had been hoping would be a night of staying up late to read. But she’d been waiting to get her hands on Eleazer Manford’s books for ages; his collection was legendary.
Sighing and giving Renegade Player a regretful pat, Faith said, “Yes, I’ll be there.”
*
