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"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!"
"Betty keeps beating me at mahjong. He can fix that." She winks at me and then slips her purse off my arm onto hers and strolls toward the car, leaving me gaping after her in shock. Good grief. She wants Finn to hack mahjong so she can beat Betty.
My aunt isn't incorrigible. She's whatever comes after that.
"I want to be her when I'm old," I whisper to the sky and then laugh to myself.
Movement across the parking lot captures my attention and I shift my focus in that direction. My smile slips when I see the same odd man from the bookstore this morning walking toward a sleek black town car.
A shiver rips through me at the sight of him.
He turns in my direction, his gaze landing on me. He's too far away to see his expression, but he lifts his hand in a wave of acknowledgment. I don't wave back. I pretend not to notice and hurry to catch up with Aunt Ophelia, my heart pounding as anxiety churns through me.
What is he doing here? Is hefollowingme?
"Don't be silly," I mumble to myself, fumbling for the keyfob to unlock the doors. "No one is following you."
"What's that, dear?" Aunt Ophelia asks.
"Nothing," I say weakly.
I don't breathe again until we're in the car with the doors locked. When I look in the rearview mirror, his car is gone. We're alone in the parking lot.
Jeez. Maybe I need to stop reading mafia romance. It's making me paranoid.
Except…I don't feel paranoid.
"We need to talk about this book," Finn growls, dropping it on the counter in front of me as soon as there's a lull between customers late in the morning. Maddie is off on her honeymoon, Allie had to fly back home, and our part-time, afterschool help is off for standardized testing, so Corinne and I are running the place ourselves. I work Monday through Friday, and she works Thursday through Sunday so I'm home with Aunt Ophelia on weekends. It's been a hectic morning.
