Chapter 7
Shira
It’s Saturday morning, almost a week after the Christmas tree lighting, and the market is bustling. I’m talking to Susan Landry, my first repeat customer, about a book she started and finished reading yesterday, when I spot a familiar six-year-old bounding into the shop.
I look up, expecting to see Uncle Jonny behind her, ready with another excuse to be “dropping by.” But it’s his sister, Bianca, pushing a double stroller.
“You don’t read many stories that are character-driven but also packed with so much action,” Mrs. Landry is saying to me.
“Absolutely,” I agree, even though I haven’t read the book, Hello Beautiful, yet. “It’s wildly original.”
Mrs. Landry tilts her head, looking at me curiously. “It’s a modern take on Little Women.”
I nod because I do recall hearing that about the book, then apologize and excuse myself to greet Bianca and Maggie. The little twin boys in the stroller—whose names I can’t remember—are asleep.
“I’ve got a bone to pick with you!” Bianca says with a bright smile on her face.
I pause, hoping she’s joking. Are all McKay’s this confusing?
Her brother shut me down the other night, making me feel like an idiot for inviting him in.
But every day since, he’s been dropping by, bringing me coffee or candy from the sweet shop, leaning across the counter with that crooked grin. But it starts and ends there.
Despite the girls’ constant encouragement and Talia’s long-distance coaching, my clever quips and innuendos aren’t landing—he hasn’t picked up on my attempts to do something outside the bookstore.
Or he has, and he’s not interested. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s one of those guys who are all about the chase, and I’m not making him chase me very hard.
“That fairy book,” Bianca says, running her hands through Maggie’s ponytail. “I’ve read it at least three hundred times—I could recite it by heart. ‘Once upon a time, there was a little pink fairy…” she starts, proving her point.
“We need another book,” Maggie says, and my heart swells.
“Maybe two or three,” Bianca agrees, then nods at the sleeping twins. “And the boys are getting jealous of all our reading time—do you have anything about garbage trucks, by chance?”
I laugh. “I’ve got just the thing.” I lead them toward the children’s section where two other kids are sitting cross-legged on the new rug, surrounded by piles of books. Maggie joins them, picking a book to flip through.
Bianca looks proud and a little jealous. “I don’t think I’ve read a book without pictures since I graduated from Azalea High.”
“Well, if you want to change that…” I say, holding my hands out to the world of books she’s literally standing in the middle of.
Bianca studies me, apprehensive.
“Tell me some things you like,” I say.
“Hmm.” She hesitates, then says, “I honestly don’t know what I like anymore. I got married and started having kids, and it’s like I’m not ‘me’ anymore, I’m ‘Mom.’ And don’t get me wrong, I love my kids. I love them.”
“But you want to hold on to the other parts of yourself, too?” I suggest, thinking of Anya, who dropped off our group chat after she had her daughter and moved to the suburbs two years ago.
We started the new group chat for logistics—Anya didn’t need to be bothered with details of when and where the rest of us were getting together—but that became the place where we teased Talia about whoever she’d gone home with the night before, where Maya texted screenshots from the guys on the apps, and Naomi bemoaned the challenges of a long-distance relationship.
Soon, the smaller group chat was the only group chat.
I feel a pang of panic at the thought of the girls texting each other on a thread without me. I may be out of sight, but I don’t want to be out of mind.
“Exactly,” Bianca says, bringing me back to the moment. She seems to relax, almost relieved I managed to pull this confession from her. “So do you have a book for that?”
“I do, actually.” I walk the few steps toward the romance bookshelf—which, in hindsight, I maybe shouldn’t have put right next to the children’s section.
I skim the shelves until I find what I’m looking for.
“Start with this one,” I say, handing her a copy of The Idea of You by Robinne Lee.
It’s the movie tie-in edition with Anne Hathaway and Nicholas Galitzine making out on the cover.
I loved the book, but the ending made Maya so mad she swore off my book recommendations for almost a year.
But I think Bianca will appreciate the fantasy of it all. And the spice.
“I think I saw this movie,” Bianca says, turning it around to look at the back.
“The book is always better,” I tell her. “Trust me.”
“You know, I think I do.” There’s sincerity in her voice, like she’s talking about more than this book. After a moment, she adds, “So…are you and my brother dating?”
If we’d been having this conversation over coffee, I would have spit my drink out.
“I’m…we’re…no,” I say, and then with more certainty, “we’re not.”
She blinks. “Really? Every time I’ve seen him this week, he’s been talking about you.
Sarah says the bookshop’s getting busier every day, or Sarah thinks the Main Street decorations look like something out of a Hallmark movie, or Sarah says the sweet shop’s caramels are the best she’s ever tasted. I guess I just assumed…”
I cringe at the reminder that Jonny still thinks my name is Sarah.
If he’d come inside after the tree lighting, I would have cleared that up.
Not that it makes a difference since he isn’t interested in me.
Once I’m gone, it won’t matter what my name is—and this version of me he’s getting to know is more Sarah than Shira anyway.
“He’s been dropping by every day,” I say. “But that’s it.”
I’ve been friend-zoned before, but it stings a little more coming from Mr. Bad Reputation.
It doesn’t say a lot for me if the guy who collects notches on his belt isn’t interested in getting my pants off.
He’s probably just bored, dropping by and flirting with me to kill time when he’s not fixing stuff around the market.
Bianca frowns, studying me. “Huh. I really thought there was something going on at the tree lighting.”
I shake my head, my cheeks warming. “Well, there definitely isn’t. I thought there might be, but…he shut that down fast.”
The memory stings—how I was so caught up in the holiday magic that I forgot to be cautious, trusting Jonny enough to step out of my comfort zone and put myself out there. The second I asked him to come in, he just…froze like he was trying to figure out how to let me down easy.
When I texted the girls about it after, Talia was ready to catch a flight down here and punch him in the nuts.
She thinks I should move on and find another guy to bang, but Maya and Naomi still have hope for Jonny.
The only thing they all agreed on was that they’re proud of me for putting myself out there. For all the good it did me.
Bianca narrows her eyes almost like she’s studying me, and I have the strangest sense that she knows what happened, even if I’m not sharing everything.
“My brother’s past is a little…colorful,” Bianca says eventually, and I appreciate the softer description of what I already know were his rebellious years.
“And I know he can come off like a cocky little flirt, but he’s a good man.
He’s smart and loyal and kind—do not tell him I said that,” she adds with a grin.
Then she turns thoughtful again. “And I think he likes you. A lot.”
“Maybe as a friend,” I say.
Bianca looks solemn as she shakes her head. “As smart as my brother is, he can really be an idiot sometimes.”
As if our conversation summoned him, Jonny walks into the store, full of swagger and a little surprise as he sees me talking to his sister. He’s wearing his usual Carhartt, his tool belt slung around his waist. His hair looks like he just ran his hands through it, and I hate how good he looks.
“Am I hallucinating?” he says, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “What is my big sister doing in a bookstore? I didn’t know you read anything longer than Instagram captions.”
“Shush,” she says, playfully swatting his arm. “Maggie and the boys needed a few books, and I’m getting one, too.”
He looks impressed—and I’m impressed he doesn’t make a cheap joke about what kind of book it clearly is.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Bianca asks. “I thought you were on baby duty with Kara? Isn’t Kyle in Austin today?”
“He is and I am,” Jonny says. “Our dear sister wanted some kettle corn, and I thought Sarah might like some, too.”
“How thoughtful,” Bianca says, laying it on thick. “You must really like her.”
Jonny gives us both a weird look. “Sure,” he says. “And there’s a flickering light over at the Quilted Corner that needs fixing.”
“Your brother is the hardest working handyman in Texas,” I tell Bianca, then say to Jonny, “They should give you a raise!”
Bianca laughs. “He does not need a raise—and he’s not a handyman. Jonny, what lies have you been telling this poor girl?”
“I never lied,” he says, looking me straight in the eyes. He lowers his gaze for a moment, then looks back up. “But I’m not a handyman.”
“He’s the mastermind behind this whole place,” Bianca says, her voice filled with pride.
My jaw drops. “But you said…”
Jonny puts his hands in his back pockets, and it looks like he’s bracing himself for me to be angry or yell at him. But he’s right, he didn’t lie—I made assumptions, which was equally wrong of me.
“Everything I’ve told you is true,” Jonny says. “I’m between jobs and here to help my dad out with the holiday market.”
“Between jobs,” Bianca snorts.
Jonny shoots her a warning look. “B…”
But his sister just rolls her eyes at him, then faces me. “Jonny started some fancy tech company and sold it for a whole bunch of money.”
He shifts his weight. “All right now, that’s enough.”
“Don’t downplay it,” Bianca says, shaking her head at him. “How much did you sell it for? Ten million? Twenty?”
I stare at him.
“And he isn’t just ‘helping our dad out,’” Bianca continues, turning back to me.
“Before this year, the holiday market was just a few local vendors in stalls down in an old barn. Jonny secured this space and reorganized everything. He brought you in, and a few other vendors from Dallas and Fort Worth. It’s a totally different experience. ”
Jonny shrugs, clearly uncomfortable with his sister’s praise.
“Wow,” I say, replaying the last two weeks and all my interactions with Jonny, seeing them in a different light. And then—“Wait, so you’re Conor’s friend from business school?”
Jonny frowns, and I try to think of anything I’ve told Jonny that could get me in trouble at work. My stomach twists at the idea of Jonny and Conor talking, laughing about the way I practically threw myself at him. Oh, God, I’m such an idiot.
I can’t wait to tell the girls about this new development—they’ll either be thrilled (he’s a millionaire, babe!) or pissed that Jonny is friends with Conor, an asshole by association.
“He wasn’t my bestie or anything,” Jonny says. “But he owed me a favor, and I called it in.”
I nod, trying to take all this information in.
“Excuse me,” a young teenage girl says. “Do y’all have The Summer I Turned Pretty?”
“We do,” I tell her, grateful for the distraction. “Follow me.”
When I return a few minutes later, Jonny and Bianca have their heads bent together, talking in low voices. Rather, Bianca’s talking—or maybe lecturing—and he’s listening with an occasional eye roll.
They pull apart as I approach, and I get the sense they were talking about me. What Bianca says next confirms it.
“Jonny, is there something else you want to say to Sarah?” she says in the perfect mom-voice that makes me think of Anya again.
“I was going to ask you this even if my nosy sister didn’t butt in,” he says, shooting Bianca a playful glare. “But there’s a good cover band playing at The Dive Bar tonight, d’you want to come?”
Bianca clears her throat.
Jonny rolls his eyes in her direction, then looks at me. There’s an intensity in his gaze that makes my stomach flip. “I’d really like to take you out tonight, Sarah. On a date.”