Page 147 of Safe With You

I thought about it for a second.

No comment.

Naomi came back around the corner and stopped.

Her eyes moved from me to the phone in my hand.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Ellis. Mila beat him at Uno last night, and apparently there’s some controversy surrounding whether or not he cheated.”

“Ah.”

I narrowed my eyes.

Naomi pressed her lips together and reached for her cup. “I’m just being supportive.”

“You’re being nosy.”

“I can be two things.”

I shook my head and reached beneath the counter for the opening checklist.

“See,” she said, picking up her cup, “now I’m in trouble for having eyes.”

Another message was waiting.

For the record, I did not cheat.

My mouth twitched.

I didn’t answer right away. Naomi was still standing there, and I refused to give her any more ammunition before we’d even opened for the day.

But I didn’t put my phone away either. By the time we unlocked the doors, Naomi had moved on—or at least she was pretending to. The rest of the morning settled into its usual rhythm.

The bell above the door chimed often enough that I lost track of who came in first. Mrs. Collins stopped by for the newest mystery release she’d had on hold all week. A young couple wandered through the romance section debating whether friends-to-lovers was better than enemies-to-lovers, and a college student camped out in the reading nook with an iced coffee from Maya’s and enough highlighters to color-code an entire semester.

By ten-thirty, the bookstore felt exactly the way I liked it—lived in. The low hum of conversation drifted between the shelves while soft jazz played through the speakers overhead. Somewhere in the back, Naomi was helping a customer find a memoir she’d been raving about for months.

The morning kept me moving after that. Somewhere between helping a woman pick out a birthday gift for her sister and tracking down an online order that somehow ended up on the wrong shelf, ten-thirty turned into noon, and noon slipped into early afternoon without much warning.

By the time I finally made it back behind the counter, the crowd had thinned some, but not enough for me to sit down.

I rang up another purchase and handed the woman her receipt.

“Have a good day.”

“You too, honey.”

The bell jingled again before she’d even reached the door.

“I’ll be right with you,” I called automatically, already sliding another bookmark into a customer’s shopping bag.

“No rush.”

The voice was familiar enough that I didn’t bother looking up right away.

I finished the transaction, tucked the receipt roll back into place, then glanced toward the entrance.