I glanced at my packed back seat. “Linda, thoughts? Pack mule on up and head in, or come out and do several trips?”
My cell’s GPS remained silent because of course it did.
I nodded, soldiering on. “Yep. Solid call. Head on in, get the lay of the land along with a key from Ivy, then back out here. Thanks, Linda.”
I really needed to ask Ivy about a cat. I mean, working from home was not going to help matters here.
I grabbed my phone and thumbed out a text to Ava announcing my arrival, then hopped out of my vehicle with a pat to the roof in thanks as I passed by. My old Subaru might not be sexy, but the station wagon had gotten me here safely.
I opened the door to step into Pages and heard the bell ring overhead.
“I’ll be right with you,” a voice called from the back.
I glanced around, trying to get the vibe for the store in one look. Part of my job was writing up descriptions for books, articles, and professional development sessions. I found myself practicing the skill often, everywhere I went.
Ivy’s bookstore was perfection. Relaxed, chill, and comfortable were all descriptors that came to mind. There was a scent I couldn’t place pervading the place. Sandalwood maybe? Wood floors gleamed with light bouncing off them. There was a counter where you paid to one side of the store with a chalkboard behind it. Glancing at it, I saw some reviews and recommendations for books posted as well as the diffuser that I figured was responsible for the welcoming scent. There was another counter against a wall in the back with what appeared to be a coffee maker and teapot. A hall led toward the back, where I’m guessing the voice that greeted me had called from.
Taking a deep breath, I felt myself relax from my drive down, from life in general. This place gave me the same feelings I had in our neighborhood library growing up. Ms. Rogers had worked there and welcomed me every Saturday morning, making me feel like she’d been waiting just for me.
Voices brought me back to the store, and I glanced up to see a younger version of Stevie Nicks enter the room, talking over her shoulder.
“Just bring that box up here after you stack the rest and we’re good to go,” she called back. Glancing my way, she smiled. “Elle?”
“How’d you know?”
Stevie moved toward me. “Ava showed me a picture of the two of you. Are you a hugger?”
She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed as I wondered if I’d nodded or not. I was, so it worked. She smelled like lavender, and I relaxed into her embrace. After working out of my apartment for so long, the interaction was welcome.
Letting go, I felt like I was missing something.
“I’m Ivy,” Stevie said.
I laughed. “I was calling you Stevie in my head, but of course you’re Ivy.”
Her eyes lit up. “Stevie as in Stevie Nicks?”
I nodded.
Her laugh was glorious; it filled the space up. “I do love Fleetwood Mac.” She moved behind the counter. “Let me get you the keys. Today’s been crazy, sorry. My four-year-old, Addie, came down with a cold. My friend Emma is watching her so I could close up tonight and get you what you needed.”
Looking over at Ivy, I was surprised to hear that she had a daughter, much less one that was already four. If she’d said she was following a band on tour this summer, yes, that would track. With Ivy’s carefree spirit and long blond hair along with her hippie vibe, it was like she’d just walked out of some boho Instagram account. I wondered if her daughter was as laid-back as her.
“I’m sorry your daughter is sick. I hate that I put you out.”
Ivy’s laughter was contagious, and it warmed me up. “Goddess knows that I needed a break. Being with a four-year-old for any amount of focused time is exhausting. I love Ads to pieces, but the amount of questions she comes up with is unreal. We’ve had dance parties all day long, so this is a blessed break. Now”—she pulled open a drawer—“where are those keys?”
A deep voice came from behind me. “Ivy, the boxes are taken care of.”
I looked to the new voice, and I’m certain I gasped out loud because that’s not embarrassing at all. I wondered if the goddess Ivy mentioned was responsible for the male currently to be found in front of me. If so, I needed to know how to pray to her because she was owed some serious gratitude.
I didn’t typically fawn over guys. That was just not me. But this guy was seriously droolworthy. I looked over his brown hair that was longer in the front and tousled over his forehead, a bit of scruff on his jaws, gorgeous glasses, and a box of books in his arms that he looked up from to lock his warm brown eyes with mine. Holy heck.
Was that drool? Oops.
“Hey, sorry. Am I interrupting?” my dream man asked, looking from Ivy to me.
Athena burst from Zeus’s forehead, right? Did this guy just,poof, pop out of some part of my brain that visualized the perfect guy for me? That was the only logical explanation here.
