Chapter Nineteen
Emery woke with a start, her alarm blaring far too cheerfully for the early hour. She groaned and fumbled for her phone, knocking over a stack of books on her nightstand in the process. Some things never changed. But other things, important things, definitely had changed.
Last night kept replaying in her mind. Eveline defending romance novels with such unexpected passion, the way she'd touched Emery’s cheek, the charged moment before Domi's ill-timed call. Emery buried her face in her pillow, both thrilled and terrified.
“I love Eveline,” she whispered again, just to hear the words in daylight. They still felt right, which was perhaps the most terrifying part of all. Not that she had any plans of speaking them in front of anyone else. Not just yet, at least.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Jax: Did you tell her yet?
Emery groaned again. She'd stayed up half the night finishing her manuscript pages and sending them to Domi, but that hadn't resolved her larger problem. She couldn't keep lying to Eveline, but she also couldn't bear the thought of losing her.
She typed back: Working on it. Going in early today.
Jax's response was immediate: Just rip off the band-aid already!
Emery dressed with unusual care, trying on three different outfits before settling on a blue button-up shirt and her least-worn pair of jeans.
By the time she arrived at The Turned Page, her stomach was tied in knots. She took a deep breath before using her key to let herself in, bracing for the inevitable awkwardness after last night's almost-moment.
What she wasn't prepared for was the sight that greeted her.
Eveline, normally so poised and proper, was humming.
Actually humming as she moved purposefully around the shop, rearranging display tables and shifting books.
Even more shocking was what she was rearranging.
The romance section was being transferred from its usual banishment in the back corner to a prominent display near the front door.
“Good morning,” Emery said, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.
Eveline looked up, and a smile, bright, warm, and utterly real, spread across her face. “Emery! You're early.”
“So are you,” Emery said, putting down her bag. “And you're… redecorating?”
“Just making some adjustments,” Eveline said, returning to her task. “The romance section was too cramped. It deserves more space.”
Emery blinked, wondering if she'd somehow stepped into an alternate universe. “The romance section deserves more space,” she repeated slowly. “You, Eveline Auclair, scourge of happily-ever-afters, think romance novels deserve pride of place in your shop?”
Eveline's cheeks colored slightly as she carefully arranged a row of books, their colorful spines facing outward. “As I said before, I may have been…” she hesitated, “somewhat hasty in my judgment.”
“Somewhat hasty?” Emery couldn't help the teasing tone that crept into her voice. “Yesterday these were 'unrealistic fantasies.' Today they're front and center.”
Eveline straightened, brushing her hair out of her face. “I'm simply giving customers what they want,” she said, but her eyes, when they met Emery's, told a different story.
Emery moved closer, her heart doing that all too familiar flip in her chest. “And what do customers want, exactly?”
“Hope,” Eveline said softly. “Possibility.” Her gaze lingered on Emery's face. “The courage to be vulnerable.”
The air between them seemed to vibrate with unspoken words. Emery felt herself leaning slightly forward.
“I saved you one,” Eveline said, breaking the moment to hold out a copy of a romance novel. “I thought you might enjoy it. The protagonist reminded me of you. Smart, passionate about books…” she paused, a smile tugging at her lips, “occasionally disaster-prone.”
Emery accepted the book, their fingers brushing in the exchange. “Thank you,” she said, touched by the gesture. “I'll start it tonight.”
The bell above the door jingled, announcing Zara's arrival. She bounded in with her usual energy, then stopped short, taking in the rearranged shop.
“Whoa,” she said, eyes wide. “Did I miss something? Since when are romance novels our featured display?”
“Since now,” Eveline said simply.
Zara looked between Emery and Eveline, a knowing smile spreading slowly across her face. “Riiight,” she drawled. “This wouldn't have anything to do with last night's impassioned defense of the genre, would it?”
“It's a business decision,” Eveline insisted, though her renewed blush suggested otherwise. “The Romance Book Club brings in customers. We should capitalize on that.”
“Uh-huh,” Zara said, clearly unconvinced. “Pure capitalism. Nothing to do with any… personal revelations.”
Emery busied herself arranging bookmarks, pretending she couldn't feel the weight of Zara's scrutiny. The younger woman was far too perceptive for comfort.
“Actually,” Zara said, setting down her bag, her face a picture of innocence, “since we're rearranging things, I've been meaning to organize the rare books section in the storage room. Emery, would you mind helping me? There's a first edition I've been trying to find for ages.”
“Now?” Emery asked, she’d been hoping for coffee.
“Perfect time,” Zara said. “Before customers arrive. Eveline, you don't mind if I borrow Emery for a bit, do you?”
“Not at all,” Eveline said, though her eyes narrowed slightly at Zara's too-innocent expression.
Emery followed Zara to the back of the storage room, where floor-to-ceiling shelves created narrow aisles barely wide enough for one person. The rare books section occupied the furthest corner, dimly lit and cramped.
“So, what are we looking for?” Emery asked, surveying the packed shelves.
“Oh, just a… rare book,” Zara said vaguely, inching toward the door. “I think I hear the phone. Why don't you get started, and I'll be right back?”
Before Emery could protest, Zara had slipped out, closing the door behind her with a decisive click. Emery sighed. So much for subtlety. There was a distinct air of a set-up wafting around.
She'd just started examining the shelves when the door opened again and Eveline stepped in.
“Zara said you needed help finding something?” she said, letting the door swing shut.
Emery turned, then froze as she realized how close they were standing in the narrow aisle. “Actually, I think Zara might have been—”
“Setting us up?” Eveline finished, one eyebrow arched.
“Yeah,” Emery said, suddenly very aware of how little space separated them. “She's not exactly subtle.”
“Neither is Maya,” Eveline said with a sigh. “She texted me three times this morning asking if I'd 'made a move yet.' Her words, not mine.”
Emery laughed, the sound a bit breathless in the small space. “They mean well.”
“They're meddlers,” Eveline said, but she was smiling a little.
They stood in silence for a moment, neither moving away despite the cramped quarters. Emery could smell Eveline's perfume, that subtle hint of vanilla that had haunted her dreams.
“About last night,” Eveline began, her voice low.
“Before my phone rang,” Emery said.
“Yes. Before that.” Eveline's dark eyes met hers. “I meant what I said. About judging too quickly. About courage.”
Emery swallowed hard. “I have something I need to tell you, Eveline. Something important.”
“What?” Eveline asked, taking a half step closer, which in the narrow aisle meant they were now close enough that Emery could feel the warmth radiating from her body.
“I'm…” Emery began, her heart hammering. Tell her now, a voice in her head urged. Just say it. “I'm not who you think—”
The door burst open with a bang, startling them both.
“I've brought cinnamon rolls!” Maya said, wielding a bakery box like a trophy. “Fresh from the oven and—oh!” She stopped short, taking in their proximity. “Not interrupting anything, am I?”
Emery, startled by Maya's sudden entrance, took a step back, colliding with a shelf. Books cascaded down around her, thumping to the floor in a literary avalanche.
“Oh god, I'm so sorry,” she gasped, dropping to her knees to gather the fallen volumes. “I swear I don't do this on purpose.”
To her surprise, Eveline kneeled beside her, laughing softly. “I'd be worried if you did,” she said, reaching for a book at the same time as Emery. Their hands met over leather binding, and instead of pulling away, Eveline let her fingers rest on Emery's.
“If you two are quite finished flirting over fallen literature,” Maya said, her voice heavy with amusement, “there are customers arriving.”
Eveline stood, still holding Emery's hand, and pulled her to her feet. They stood for a moment, hands clasped between them, eyes locked.
“To be continued,” Eveline said softly, giving Emery's hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.
Emery nodded, unable to form words. As she followed Eveline out of the storage room, she marveled at how much had changed.
A few weeks ago, she'd knocked over a display of classics and earned Eveline's cold disapproval.
Now she'd created yet another avalanche of books, but this time, Eveline had laughed. This time, Eveline had held her hand.
This time, “to be continued” held the promise of something wonderful. If only she could find the courage to tell Eveline the truth.
Maya caught her arm as they exited the storage room. “Sorry about my timing,” she whispered, not looking sorry at all. “But next time, perhaps choose somewhere with more room to maneuver? Storage room accidents can be so… predictable.”
Emery laughed despite herself. “I'll keep that in mind.” Her gaze drifted to Eveline, who was greeting the day's first customers with a smile that seemed brighter than usual. “Though at this point, I think the books falling is just part of our story.”
“A classic meet-cute,” Maya agreed with a nod. “Though usually those happen at the beginning, not in chapter nineteen.”
Emery froze. “What did you say?”
“Just that you two took your time getting to the good part,” Maya said with a wink, then bustled off with her box of cinnamon rolls.
Emery exhaled slowly, steadying herself. Right. Maya didn't know anything. She was just being Maya, romantic, meddling, and eerily perceptive.
But time was running out. She couldn't keep pretending forever. Sooner or later, the truth would come out. And when it did, would Eveline still look at her with that warmth in her eyes? Or would Emery's secret destroy everything before it had truly begun?
She squared her shoulders and headed for the counter. One thing at a time. Right now, she'd enjoy this new, softer Eveline who put romance novels front and center and held her hand among fallen books. Later… well, later she'd find the courage to tell her truth.
She hoped.