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Oh, right. Because he's the hottest man I've ever met. And I've never even been kissed.
Meh.
"Is she ready to go?" I ask Cora, deflating like a balloon.
"Yeah, she's ready." Cora eyes me oddly, her light eyes filling with concern. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, fine." I wave her off with a weak smile. "It's been a weird day."
She reaches across the desk to squeeze my hand. "I'm here if you need to talk."
"Thanks," I whisper, gratitude welling in my chest. I love Cora. She's so sweet to me and so good with Aunt Ophelia. She's the first friend I made here. I push away from the desk and head toward Aunt Ophelia's treatment room to find my aunt ready to go.
"Scarlett, dear!" She beams, holding her wrinkled hands out toward me. "I wondered if you'd forgotten about me."
"Of course not," I say with a smile, reaching for her hand. I place a kiss on her lined cheek. "I was getting an update from Cora. Nude photos? Really, Aunt Ophelia?"
"It's art, my dear.Art," she says. The mischievous glimmer in her blue eyes tells me that she didn't bring that album for its artistic merit. Not that she'll ever admit it. Aunt Ophelia is a swindler.
She knows exactly what she's doing when she's causing chaos. She likes to watch the fallout because it keeps her entertained. But she's eighty-two years old and fully believes she's reached the age where she can get away with it. For the most part, she's right. People let her do what she wants because she's elderly and no one ever wants to be the jerk who tells an old lady no. But I'm onto her tricks.
"You're incorrigible, you know that?" I say with a quiet laugh, looping my arm through hers as I scoop her bag up from the chair with the other.
"Thank you, dear," she says, patting my hand as we duck out of the room.
"Aunt Ophelia, that was not a compliment."
"Of course it was." She reaches up to pat her poufy hair. "Now, how was work today? Did anything interesting happen?"
"Finn came back."
"Smart boy."
I shake my head. Only Aunt Ophelia would mistake Finn for a boy. There's nothing boyish about him except that smile of his. He's all man. Stupid-hot, growly, nerdy, tattooed man. And he's going to be spending days in the bookshop with me.
My stomach flutters with a combination of nerves and excitement.
I lift my hand in a wave to Cora as Aunt Ophelia and I pass by the front desk. She covers the receiver of the phone and mouths that she'll see us tomorrow. Aunt Ophelia sneaks a handful of butterscotch candies from the dish on the edge of the desk and then drops them into her bag before striding toward the door with her head held high.
She's shameless, really.
By the time we step outside, the sun is sinking below the horizon, and shadows stretch across the parking lot. I can't wait until summer when the world holds onto the sunlight for as long as possible, refusing to give it up until the last possible second. It's so much better than dwelling in darkness after five o'clock.
"You should invite Finn over for dinner."
I trip over my own feet.
"Careful, dear," Aunt Ophelia says, her lips twitching.
"I can't invite him over for dinner," I say.
"Of course you can. I'll even be on my best behavior."
I stop walking and shoot her a dubious look. "Your definition of best behavior and my definition are two entirely different things, Aunt Ophelia."
"Pah!" she says, waving a hand in the air. "Just invite the boy over, Scarlett Rue. I need him to look at my computer anyway."
"No, you do not!"
