Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Noemi
The bell chimes at four minutes past six. I turn from ringing up a customer and beam at the sight.
Dr. Amunson is ten minutes late for his regular schedule, which includes being twenty minutes early for book club on Tuesday. He shuffles in with his glasses fogged and his hat crushed in one hand. I'm already halfway across the shop before the door swings shut behind him.
"Hello, Dr." I greet him warmly. "Your book came in this morning. I've been hiding it under the register from Sherrie, who thinks anything in the special-order pile is fair game."
"Noemi. That woman is a menace."
"I know. That's why I like her."
Behind the register the special order sits exactly where I left it. The Many Fish of the and Orinco Rivers: A Comprehensive Guide. It’s a sturdy hardback book, the edition with the color plates in the middle. The good doctor deserves a little treat.
Dr. Amunson's face lifts when he sees it. His hands are unsteady when he takes it from me. “It came!”
"As I said. A small press in Reykjavik finally answered my emails. It took six weeks of pestering emails. And then one phone call from you-know-who."
I jerk my thumb over my shoulder at Rian, who is standing a few feet away, trying to appear innocuous as he checks the door for the fiftieth time. It’s what we have agreed on; he’s allowed to be here in the mornings and the evenings, but most of the day he’s banned.
He still has a job to do for the King crew, no matter how much he mutters under his breath that he’d rather be here.
Dr. Amunson tsks. "You should learn to take pride in your accomplishments."
I lift a shoulder. "I'm working on it."
Across the shop, Rian meets my gaze and then looks pointedly at the circle of expensive folding chairs. He set the circle up an hour ago without being asked. That’s one of many ways he shows love.
I blow him a discreet kiss and try to move things along with my last customer of the day. It’s time for the book club to convene.
I ring up Dr. Amunson’s book, then hand him a little bag with Poor Yorick Books logo printed on it. It’s a skeleton hand grasping a book. "You know,” I say as I give him change, “Book club starts right now. You should stay."
He looks at me over the rims of his glasses. "I don't read romance novels, Noemi."
"They’re not all romances. Esther picked this month, so it's an alternative-history science fiction book by Neal Stephenson. About what, I have no idea. You'll fit right in."
His mouth twitches. "That's an unusual pitch."
"That's the best I've got. Will you stay?"
He considers the middle distance for a long beat. Then he tucks the fish book under his arm and shuffles toward the circle without a word. His chair squeaks when he settles into it. The book goes on the floor by his ankle, spine up.
It’s only our third meeting, but our little club is growing.
The circle fills fast after that. Sherrie sits with a bottle of wine she didn't need to bring, a battered hardback copy of Cryptonomicon, and a face already primed for an argument.
Esther and her wife arrive next, matching turtlenecks, matching smug expressions.
I would bet that Esther knows exactly what she did picking Stephenson and is pleased with herself.
My husband finds his usual seat where he can monitor the door.
And then Christopher slides in last with his notebook open, three pens clipped to the collar of his shirt.
He's a graduate student in something none of us understand.
He also wears the largest black-framed glasses I've ever seen on a human face.
His entire personality is manga and structural engineering, in that order. I adore him.
Christopher takes the chair next to Dr. Amunson and arches his brow at the book Dr. Amunson has taken out and is stealthily admiring.
"That book any good?" Christopher taps the cover gently with a finger.
Dr. Amunson looks up at him, his eyes narrowing. "I've had it in my hand for six minutes. Ask me in a week."
“Hah!” Christopher’s laugh is more of a statement. He tilts his head. "What are you reading otherwise?"
"Everything. Anything that has printed words in either English or French.” The older man puffs his chest out when he says the last; his love of Proust is a particular pain point for me. But that doesn’t seem to bother his young companion one bit.
"I’m much the same," Christopher says. He pulls a battered volume out of his bag with a woman on the cover holding a sword. "Have you ever tried manga?"
Dr. Amunson squints at the cover. "I have not."
"Oh, we're going to fix that."
They lean in. Rian catches my eye across the circle. He doesn't smile, exactly. He’s still jumpy anytime I’m not lying on top of him in our bed. But we’re working on it.
He’s hinted that he’ll feel even better when I’m wearing his ring. I couldn’t for the life of me think of a reason why that wasn’t a great idea.
I take a deep breath. Every Tuesday, an hour before I have to speak in front of eight people about a book I love, my body decides I'm about to die. My therapist calls it a fear response. I call it a nuisance. Either way, the goal isn't to stop it.
The goal is to keep doing the things I want to do while it happens.
I take another breath. In, out. Rian's gaze flicks to me, one eyebrow lifted a fraction. I just shake my head once.
I don’t need rescuing.
"All right." My voice comes out steadier than I feel. "Esther picked. Esther, you get the first question."
Esther’s face looks pinched. "Oh, no. You're moderating. You go."
"You picked the book. You get first question."
"That's a made-up rule." She gives me a tiny glare.
I respond with a teasing, "My shop, my book club, my rules."
The circle laughs. I have customers – people that will eventually be my friends, I hope – that don’t mind a little teasing. Imagine that.
Esther launches into her question, which is long and fairly labyrinthine. All I’m sure of is that it involves the phrase diegetic scaffolding. Then to her great excitement, she gets to explain what the hell diegetic scaffolding is. She’s a little stuffy, but Christopher jumps in.
“This is all very interesting, but I have to ask a question. Is Enoch a Highlander??”
The circle bursts into energetic arguing. Dr. Amunson and Sherrie realize that they both love to play devil’s advocate. Then Esther reads her favorite passage.
My knee stops bouncing somewhere around the time when Christopher pulls out a sheet of questions. That's usually how it goes. The panic doesn't leave, per se. It merely fades away when I’m giving something else my full attention.
Rian is quiet for most of the session. When I ask, “What were your impressions?” he sighs.
“It was… entertaining,” he hedges. “So long, though.”
“You should see the trilogy of books that follow it,” Esther says. She holds up her fingers to indicate how thick each book is. “They’re thicker than a snickers.”
Everyone laughs. I look around, feeling pleased. My parents would love this conversation.
Eventually, the club ends and the shop empties. Rian stacks the chairs and looks at me with a little smile. “Ready to go?”
“Yes, pretty boy.” Kissing his lips, I step into the coat he holds out for me.
His green eyes crackle. “Don’t tease me. We’ll end up naked behind the counter again.”
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” I sneak another kiss. His lips taste of mint and the woods. I have the urge to fist his shirt and deepen the kiss. It seems crazy that I could end up with someone who gets me on such a deep level.
“I have something better planned tonight.”
“Like what?” I start to laugh. “If this is us watching more 1990s action movies, you have to warn me. Too much Swayze in one sitting is bad for my health.”
Rian slides his palm against mine and tugs. “How about you, me, less clothes, a grilled steak, and skinny dipping in the Tara’s pool?”
My eyes widen and my heart skips a beat. “I could be convinced.”
“Is that right?” He chuckles and opens the bookshop’s door.
Slipping an arm around his waist, I revel in his warmth.
“That’s right. I want to go wherever you go.”
“Ah, pretty girl.” He kisses the top of my head. “Same. Let’s get you home.”
And so we do just that.
* * *
Ready to meet Beast properly? Noemi certainly is.
In this extended epilogue, she talks Rian into a night of primal play where she lets Beast hunt her down in the deep woods of Central Park. What he does when he catches her is not for the faint of heart.
Also included: a deleted scene about how Rian became a psycho in the first place. (Read at your own risk, because it’s quite murder-y.)
Enjoy!