Chapter Twelve
Two and a Half Weeks Later
I was going to be late if I didn’t leave in the next sixty seconds. Much as I appreciated what had become the beguiling expression on Rory’s face when he was scowling, I liked it best when he wasn’t annoyed at me when he did it.
We were still getting to know each other, but I’d spent enough time with him to know the difference between a good-natured scowl and a grumpy one.
In the weeks that had transpired since the boiler incident, I was more confident than ever I was well within my rights to consider the man my friend.
Our friendship aside, he considered it downright disrespectful to arrive late to the beginning of a match—and I was inclined to agree. Nevertheless, I couldn’t leave without replacing the almost full pot of dripping water I had just beyond the foot of my bed.
The good news was: I was officially off the couch and in a fully furnished bedroom. I was no longer living out of a suitcase, I had ample room to stretch out while I slept, and my boiler was working like a charm. In the grand scheme of things, life was actually really good. I was settling in, establishing a routine, and cultivating relationships. While my family situation had turned out to be a bit of a disappointment, life in general felt full and invigorating.
I was still a newbie to London, business ownership, and century old building maintenance—but I was happy.
The bad news was: I’d recently discovered I had a leak in my roof, one I’d neglected to address when I first noticed it a couple of days ago. At first, I was merely grateful it wasn’t right above my bed. Until that morning, it was an almost forgettable problem. My flat might have been renovated relatively recently, but the building in which I lived was still more than a hundred years old. It wasn’t perfect, but I didn’t need it to be. Though, more of a break between problems would have been nice.
The rain hadn’t been terrible since I noticed the leak, so it took more than twenty-four hours for the first pot to reach even half full.
Trouble was, when I woke to the chiming of St. Paul’s bells Sunday morning, I was also greeted by copious amounts of rain. It was a quarter after one in the afternoon, and I’d already emptied the pot twice. Before I left to join my friends next door for the Manchester United match, I needed to swap out my pots so as not to return to a flooded bedroom.
I made the swap and then carefully carried the full pot to the bathroom, where I dumped the water down the bathtub drain. Rather than carry it with me down the stairs and into the kitchen, I left the empty pot next to the bathroom sink. I was sure I’d need it again before dinner.
While in front of a mirror, I took another look at my appearance. Rather than team attire, I’d chosen something a bit cozier to befit the mood of the day. I had on blue jeans, a plain white tee, and my favorite, oversized, chunky-cable-knit, mustard yellow cardigan.
Honestly, it was the sweater dreams were made of.
I’d styled my hair up in a strategically constructed messy bun, sure my hair was no match against the rain, and I wore a light layer of makeup. I was going for cute, but not trying too hard. It was, on its face, only a casual afternoon of watching soccer.
It was also an invitation I was growing quite fond of.
This was going to be the fourth game in the month since I arrived in London I’d watch from Rory’s couch. I’d even prepared a homemade snack to take this week. A snack I still needed to toss into a Tupperware container before I could leave. It wasn’t pot stickers or sausage rolls, or anything that required near as much talent in the kitchen as Maya had, but it was made with care anyhow.
With this in mind, I raced down the stairs, headed for the baking sheet filled with the still-warm savory cereal snack mix I’d tossed together earlier. Once I had it packed and ready to go, I grabbed my keys, my phone, and my umbrella, hoping I wasn’t as late as I felt.
Once at his doorstep, I rang his bell, but I didn’t wait for him to answer. Rory’s outer door unlocked, I headed inside and hurried to the third floor. He was waiting for me in the doorway of his flat. Rather than a scowl, he greeted me with a single quirked eyebrow.
“Cutting it close,” he observed.
“I know,” I replied, a little breathless. I then held up my Tupperware and announced, “But I brought snacks.”
“Of course, you did,” he said, reaching for the dish. “Let me guess—it’s crunchy and salty.”
Grinning, I replied, “The best snacks always are.”
“So you say.” He stepped aside and nodded toward his flat’s interior. “Come on. It’ll start any moment now.”
I discarded my dripping umbrella on his landing before crossing the threshold. Maya and Graham were already settled in front of the television, Daisy stretched out across her belly on the floor with crayons and a coloring book in which she was happily scribbling. Oscar, the other bartender I met my first night in London, was there, too. He’d been around for the last match, as well. Unlike Graham, who was a bit of a friendly imposter, Oscar cheered on our boys in red, like Rory and me. He was also just as engaging and pleasant away from the bar as he was behind it.
“Hi, everyone,” I greeted with a blanket wave, headed for the leather sofa.
I received a warm welcome all around, even from Daisy, before Rory asked, “Something to drink before I sit?”
I glanced at the coffee table, where I saw mini sandwiches I was sure Maya brought, three glasses of beer, and a serving of white wine. I then turned to find Rory behind the couch and replied, “I’ll have a beer, thanks.”
He dipped his chin in acknowledgment, and I let my eyes linger on him for an extra second or two. He was wearing his club shirt and a pair of jeans. It was always the same on game day, and I wondered if he was a little superstitious about it.
“Sawyer, I love your sweater,” commented Maya, incentivizing me to redirect my attention.
“Thanks. It’s one of my favorites. I think I’ve had it since I was in college—the first time. It’s held up pretty well.”
“I’d say so. It certainly hasn’t gone out of style.”
Coming from a woman like Maya, that statement meant a lot. She was always so well put together, even when dressed casually. Daisy had adorable style, too, which I was sure could be wholly attributed to her mother.
“If it ever does, I doubt I’ll let it go. I’ve got a thing for sweaters. My best friend thinks my collection unreasonable, especially after so many years in California, where the sweater-weather window isn’t long.”
“You’ll certainly get the chance to wear them now. It’s only February. We’ve still got a decent bit of winter left.”
“Aye, here we go!” hollered Oscar as the match began.
I shifted my attention once more, this time toward the television. As soon as the ball was in play, Rory was lowering himself onto the couch between Oscar and me. He handed me my requested beer and placed the open container of snack mix I’d brought on the table. He also helped himself to a handful.
A few minutes later, when he reached for more, I found myself hiding my smile in my beer.
He liked it, and that felt like a win.
By the time the game was over, that wasn’t the only win in which I could revel. Manchester United had won by a single goal, breaking the tie within the last ten minutes of the match. We all agreed it had been a good game.
“I plan on celebrating the win with a pint downstairs. Who’s coming?” asked Oscar.
“You’ll have to count us out, unfortunately. We’ve got dinner plans later, and this one is going to need a nap before we go,” replied Maya, scooping her toddler up off the floor.
“Alright. What about you?”
“Sure,” I agreed, with no plans to stop me. “I just need to run home first. I’ve got a leak in my roof. I want to make sure the pot collecting rainwater isn’t on the verge of overflowing.”
Rory, who was in the kitchen, discarding our empty glasses into his sink said snarkily, “Well, that’s just grand, isn’t it? A leak?”
I turned from where I sat on the couch, propping my arms across the back as I smiled at him. “Yeah. The joys of home ownership, I suppose. I’m getting used to it.“
He gave me an expression that was a mix between a scowl and a raised eyebrow. “How long have you had this leak? You haven’t mentioned it. You can’t just keep collecting water, you know? You’ll get mold, and who knows what other damage.”
My smile fell. While I couldn’t dispute I needed to get the roof repaired, I hadn’t thought about mold.
“I know. You’re right.” Flashing my most innocent smile, I asked, “Do you happen to have a good contact who could help?”
“He owns a pub, babes. Work behind the bar long enough, you’ll meet all sorts of blokes in every field of work. I’m sure he knows someone,” said Oscar good-naturedly.
I looked from Oscar back to Rory, hoping this was true.
“Yeah. I know a guy,” he muttered. “I’ll look him up and send you his information. Don’t procrastinate reaching out, either.”
“Okay, bossy,” I teased.
He shook his head at me, as if he found me ridiculous; but when he didn’t fire back a rebuttal, I knew he didn’t mind my banter.
“I need to go change. Should have time for a drink before I start my shift. Just give me a minute.”
As he headed for his bedroom, the rest of us began to ready ourselves to leave. After Maya wrestled Daisy into her coat, she turned to me and said, “Sawyer, I almost forgot! I was wondering if you had any plans Friday evening?”
“Fridays I’m in the shop by myself. I’ll have to be around to close up around seven, but other than that, I don’t have any plans. Why?”
“I’ve got tickets to the theater. Or, rather, Graham was gifted with a pair. It happens every once in a while, when his boss is feeling gifty. Anyway, Graham hates to go, but I love it. Rather than force him to attend, I invite my sister or one of my girlfriends to join me. A bit of a girl’s night out. Would you be interested?”
Hugging what remained of my snack mix against my middle, I looked from Maya to Graham—who nodded encouragingly, practically pleading with his eyes that I accept.
I didn’t need convincing.
“I would love to go,” I replied. “What’s the show?”
“ Moulin Rouge . I’ve heard the stage adaptation is a bit risqué, but the reviews I’ve read say it’s marvelous. It starts at eight. You’d probably want to leave as soon as you close the store, so don’t worry about dressing up. I won’t either.”
“Sounds great.”
“Perfect. You have my number, and I’ve got yours. We’ll be in touch and meet there.”
I said goodbye to the Davies family, assured Oscar I’d see him in a minute, and then let myself out, grabbing my umbrella as I went. While I walked through the rain, I felt almost giddy at the prospect of my first girl’s night out in London. I missed Diane, and I could hardly wait for the time when it would work out for her and Brady to come visit—but in the meantime, the friendships I was making across the pond meant a lot to me. I wasn’t the type who needed a crowd of people around me all the time, but I wasn’t very good at being lonely, either.
Maya was in a different stage of life than I was, but that didn’t make her any less relatable. Even though I had most of the week to get through, I was really looking forward to my Friday night plans.
The rain not quite as heavy as it had been that morning, I returned to my bedroom to find the pot only three quarters of the way full. As I swapped it with the empty one I’d left in the bathroom, I hoped the rain would continue to taper as the day wore on.
When my phone buzzed inside of my pocket, I reached for it and smiled when I saw a text from Rory. In it was an email address for his contact at a roofing company. Remembering his comment about procrastination, I clicked on the link immediately and sent a message introducing myself, naming our mutual connection, and explaining about my leak. When I was finished, I replied to Rory’s text, assuring him I’d done my part, then I returned my phone to my pocket and headed for the door.
Rather than walk through the bookstore, I decided to make the journey around the block to the pub. It wasn’t far, and it was easier than having to unlock and then lock a series of doors along the way. As I approached the front entrance of Tattered Edges, eyeing the display of new books Victoria and I had stocked only a couple of days before, I discovered something that made me relieved I hadn’t decided to walk through the store.
Except, greater than my relief was the panic that coursed through me when I saw the entrance door ajar. I stopped and stared at it for a moment. It didn’t make any sense. The store was closed on Sundays, and I was sure I’d locked the door the night before. Victoria had waved goodnight to me through the glass as I did it.
The lights inside were off, and my gut told me Victoria was not inside—but she and I were the only ones who had keys. Mr. Johnson made that clear to me when I first arrived. That left only one explanation.
Someone had broken into the store.
I collapsed my umbrella as I tentatively made my way toward the door. My heart was racing as I crossed the threshold. Once inside, my rapid pulse was the only sound that filled my ears. I opened my mouth to call into the darkness, but then thought better of it. I wasn’t quite sure what the right next move was, but startling an intruder didn’t seem like the brightest idea when all I had to defend myself was an umbrella.
Then I saw it. The mess.
There were books strewn all over the floor, as if someone had gone to every table adorned with stacks and brushed them off in a rage. I couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like one of the armchairs near the middle of the store had been knocked on its side, as well. It didn’t make any sense to me.
Why would anyone vandalize a bookstore?
I gasped when my phone began to ring from inside of my back pocket. Wishing to silence it, I extracted the device and saw it was Rory calling. I didn’t think twice about it before I slid my finger across the screen and brought the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I whispered, my eyes scanning the shop.
There was a chance I wasn’t alone, my ringer a blaring announcement of my presence.
“Sawyer? Where are you? Why are you whispering?”
“Um—I’m at the bookstore,” I replied in another whisper, the tremble in my voice hinting at the fear I was trying to keep tamped down. “Someone broke in. I—”
“ Broke in? ”
Suddenly, I was not looking into the store but through the open door, the tone of his voice making my heart race for different reasons.
“Uh, yeah, I—”
“Don’t move.”
He disconnected, and the next thing I knew I saw him jogging toward me through the rain. He paused for just a moment at the door, accessing its state, and I muttered, “It’s broken. It shouldn’t stand open like that. It’s how I knew.”
He didn’t respond but closed what distance remained between us, stopping beside me.
“Bloody hell,” he cursed as he glanced around.
“Yeah.”
Now that I was no longer alone, my thoughts seemed a little more coherent. I looked to the register, trying to remember how much cash we had in the till. It couldn’t have been much, definitely not worth the trouble of breaking and entering.
I was getting ready to head that way when Rory held out his arm, blocking me.
“Wait. Stay here. Let me have a look around first.”
Glancing up at him, I didn’t argue, but took a step back and nodded in reply. I then watched him as he journeyed into the bowels of the store. I knew he’d reached the back when the lights flickered on. I braced myself for the worst, thinking if the intruder was still around he would definitely know he wasn’t alone anymore—but other than Rory’s footsteps and the sound of rain against the window, I heard nothing.
As Rory came into view again, headed for the staircase, Oscar appeared.
He took a quick look around and breathed, “Fuck,” before he asked, “Should I phone the police?”
“Yes,” answered Rory as he bounded up the stairs to the second floor.
I listened to Oscar as he reported the break-in and waited for Rory to finish looking around. It was such an odd experience—like it was happening to someone else. I didn’t understand why it was happening to me .
I racked my brain, trying to think of who could have done this. I didn’t have any enemies, and I hadn’t been around long enough for someone with a grudge to exact revenge.
Archie crossed my mind, but I was quick to rule him out. Surely he knew ransacking the store wasn’t going to be enough to get me to leave.
Then I thought of the store’s social media accounts. We’d gained quite a few followers in the days since I started posting. We’d even had a few customers who came in simply because they saw photos of the store, found it beautiful, and wanted to see it for themselves. It seemed unlikely a few photos of well-loved books could have invoked this .
“It’s all clear. No one’s here,” announced Rory as he finally descended the stairs.
At his word, I hurried across the room to the register to see if it had been tampered with. It hadn’t, but any scrap of paper that was stored behind the counter had been unearthed and tossed onto the floor. As far as I could tell, whoever came in hadn’t stolen or damaged anything, they just made a huge mess.
“The police have been notified. They should be here shortly. Probably best not to touch anything,” said Oscar.
He was right, but after he said it, the mess was so distracting, I was practically itching to clean it all up.
“I think I’ll call Victoria,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.
I made my way out from behind the register and went to sit on one of the couches. She answered on the third ring.
“Sawyer, hi!” she greeted cheerily.
“Hi. Sorry to call on your day off.”
“Nonsense. You can call me anytime, you know that. What’s up?”
I sighed and then told her the news.
“My god! Are you alright? I’ll come over, straight away.”
“No, no. There’s no need for that. I’m not alone. Rory and Oscar are here with me, and the police are coming. You don’t need to make the trip. I just wanted to let you know.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I insisted with a nod she couldn’t see.
“And you’re okay?”
I looked around at the scattered books and the broken door, which remained ajar. I was still a little panicked, but I realized it wasn’t because I was frightened. Not anymore. Not with Rory and Oscar with me. What bothered me was knowing this had never happened before. Now, on my watch, it had—but I still couldn’t explain why.
“I’m afraid this is my fault, but I can’t figure out how,” I admitted.
“Put that out of your mind, right now. You have done nothing but breathe new life into the store. You’re not to blame for someone else’s actions. Anyway, it sounds like little damage has been done. Nothing that can’t be cleaned up in short order. You’re sure you don’t want me to come in this evening?”
“No, don’t,” I said on a sigh. “Really, I’ll be okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Alright,” she conceded. “Call me if you need, or if you find out any answers as to who did this.”
“I will. Speak soon.”
We said our goodbyes before we both disconnected. Not long after, Rory was lowering himself onto the arm of the wingback chair kitty corner to the couch on which I sat. It was then I noticed it was only the two of us.
“Where did Oscar go?”
“I told him to go finish his beer. There’s not much any of us can do until the police get here. No sense in all three of us twiddling our thumbs.”
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, it struck me how relieved I was that Rory had stayed. Even though I was sure it didn’t mean quite what I hoped, it was still a show of support and protectiveness I appreciated wholeheartedly.
“Do you have any idea who might have done this?”
I shook my head, wishing I had a better answer.
“I’m drawing a blank. I’ve been here a month. I hardly know anyone. All my friends are your friends, too.”
He was scowling again, only not at me. As he looked around the store, he observed, “It doesn’t look like anything was taken or damaged, aside from a few books. If I had to wager a guess, whoever it was seemed to be looking for something.”
It was my turn to knit my eyebrows together as I frowned. “Looking for what? Victoria is a master at finding old collectible books, and we get some donations that have diamonds in the rough, but at the end of the day—nothing in here is that valuable.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” he muttered distractedly. “But there must be an explanation.”
I admired him for a moment, thoughts of him—his presence, his desire for answers—making their way to the forefront of my mind. Amidst my waning panic and nagging bewilderment, I found myself unable to shake off my feelings for the man. I’d given up trying to figure out if I was still so into him because I couldn’t have him or because I didn’t yet know enough about him to have lost interest. I honestly couldn’t say. But while I considered him a friend and a neighbor I could rely on first and foremost, my attraction hadn’t diminished in the slightest.
He so obviously was content with our relationship being strictly platonic, and I respected that. Though, I would have been lying if I said there wasn’t a part of me that wished he’d wrap his arms around me just then and assure me everything was going to be fine. Not because I needed some knight in shining armor to save me, but because it simply would have felt nice to hear it—to have his masculine reassurance wrapped around me, reminding me I wasn’t alone.
I was perfectly capable of standing on my own two feet, but since I’d arrived in London I’d faced one set back after another. I was putting on the bravest face I could, but content as I was with my decision to relocate, I couldn’t pretend bad things weren’t happening. Over and over.
While I had managed to find a community of people to whom I was starting to belong, it didn’t make me any less alone under the weight of the responsibilities I’d chosen to carry.
When he shifted his attention back in my direction, those blue eyes looking directly into mine, I stifled a groan and clapped my hands over my face.
Clearly, I was overwhelmed by the situation at hand.
I needed to get it together, before I did something stupid.
“Hey, chin up,” he said, reaching over to give my shoulder a squeeze.
His touch made my stomach clench in excitement. He did it so rarely, it had a heightened effect when it happened. I sealed my eyes closed tight, willing myself to be reasonable, then lifted my face out of my hands and freed a sigh.
“No one was hurt, nothing irreplaceable was stolen, and I know someone who can come have a look at your door.”
That last part made me giggle, and I felt a little of my stress melt away. “Of course, you do.”
I watched as a smirk curled the corner of his mouth, and my breath caught knowing that almost-smile was for me.
I wanted so badly to kiss him.
Before I could act on it, there was a knock at the door. We both looked over to see two uniformed police officers come in out of the rain.
Help had arrived, and just in time.