“Penny,” he’d said as they left the cafe. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Sure,” she’d replied, locking the door behind her. “What kind of favor?”
“Would it be okay if I spend time with you tomorrow at the bookstore?”
The jolt that went through her had felt wonderfully real. “You want to hang out at the bookstore?”
“A story idea’s come,” he’d said with a hint of nervousness, “and it’s set in a bookstore, and….”
“You want to do research.”
“I do.”
“You’re welcome to spend as much time at the bookstore as you like.”
“Excellent,” he’d replied, his eyes flashing with pleasure. “Thank you. I’m looking forward to it. What time works for you?”
“Anytime. The store opens at ten. I’m usually there at eight-thirty.”
“I’ll get there early.” As they reached their cars, he’d added, “Listen, I enjoyed today. Thank you for everything, and for sharing what you shared.”
“I enjoyed myself today, too.”
His gaze had been full of emotion. “You’ve given me a lot to think about, Penny Quinn.”
Despite the cold night air, her cheeks had warmed. “In a good way, I hope?”
“In a very good way.”
“Drive safely, and don’t forget to slow down after you turn off the county road.”
“Will do.”
Her heart had fluttered as she watched him drive off —and was still fluttering, twelve hours later, as she stared at her reflection in her bathroom mirror. Was she reading too much into what he’d said?
No, you’re not,the woman in the bathroom mirror told her. The connection was definitely real. She felt it and Daniel felt it. Denying the obvious was pointless.
And so was obsessing about what will never be, she told herself.In two days, he’s leaving.She picked up her hairbrush and started running it through her thick dark hair, her movements more forceful than normal. She needed to remember that nothing in life was guaranteed. The existence ofa connection didn’t meana relationship was destined to follow. One thing didn’t always lead to another.
She set her hairbrush down —her hair was brushed more than enough —and out of habit began pulling it into her usual “I’m-very-busy”ponytail.
When she realized what she was doing, she stopped.
Wear your hair down, a voice whispered.
Don’t be silly, her practical side shot back.The bookstore will be a madhouse today. You’ll want your hair up and out of the way.
Focus on what’s important,her inner romantic urged, not yielding an inch.
Being comfortable is important,her practical voice pushed back.
“Okay, stop,” she said out loud, irritation surging through her. What was going on with her? Getting herself riled up wasn’t helpful.
Thankfully, the solution came: She didn’t have to decide now — and she could always change her mind later.
Relieved to have landed on a sensible, flexible plan, she loosened her hair and quickly brushed it out again. A glance at her watch told her she needed to get moving. After applying her usual mascara and protective lip gloss, she hurried into the outfit she’d already selected for today: a green-and-white holiday sweater, her favorite jeans, and her favorite sneakers. A final glance in the mirror near the front door confirmed that she was good to go.
Six minutes later, after a brisk walk to The Tattered Page, she stepped into the bookstore and dove into her usual morning routine. As she was finishing the vacuuming, she heard a tap at the front window.
