Chapter Twenty-One
Emery woke up feeling slightly disoriented.
It took her a moment to remember where she was, in her own flat, in her own bed, after reluctantly leaving Eveline's place sometime after midnight.
She had wanted to stay, to wake up wrapped in Eveline's warmth, but the nagging voice of responsibility had reminded her that she had no clean clothes at Eveline's and couldn't exactly show up to work in last night's rumpled outfit.
So she'd slipped away with whispered promises to see Eveline in the morning, collecting a lingering goodnight kiss that had nearly convinced her to stay despite all practical considerations.
Now, stretching in her own sheets, Emery felt a smile spreading across her face that she couldn't have held in if she'd tried. Her body still hummed with the memory of Eveline's touch, and her lips still tingled from their kisses. She buried her face in her pillow, letting out a small, giddy laugh.
“Pull yourself together,” she muttered to herself. But how could she when, just hours ago, Eveline Auclair had touched her, kissed her, whispered her name like it meant something?
She finally arrived at the bookshop early, even though she'd changed outfits about a million times, settling on a blue dress after a hurried video call with Jax.
But when she unlocked the shop door, the familiar bell jingling overhead, for a moment, panic seized her. What if last night had been a mistake? What if Eveline regretted it? What if…
“Good morning.”
Emery turned to see Eveline behind the counter, and all her anxieties fled. She looked beautiful in a simple green dress, her dark hair loose around her shoulders instead of in its usual bun. And there was a soft, almost shy smile on her face that made Emery's heart skip.
“Hi,” Emery said, feeling like a teenager with her first crush. “Um, good morning.”
They stood looking at each other for a long moment, neither quite sure how to act. Then Eveline moved forward.
“I missed you this morning,” she said quietly, reaching out to brush her fingers against Emery's.
Emery felt a blush warming her cheeks. “I wanted to stay,” she said. “But I thought it might be a bit obvious if I showed up today in yesterday's clothes.”
“Everyone would know exactly what we'd been up to,” Eveline agreed, her lips looking swollen with kisses.
“And we can't have that,” Emery said, heart starting to race again.
“Not yet, perhaps,” Eveline said, her fingers entwining with Emery's for a brief, electrifying moment before she stepped back. “Not that everyone we know doesn’t already assume we’re…
well, we’re starting something.” She cleared her throat.
“We should probably open the shop before anyone sees us standing here like love-struck fools.”
“Probably,” Emery said, though she made no move to do so. She was too busy memorizing the way Eveline looked in this moment, slightly flushed, eyes bright, lips curved in a smile.
Then the bell rang and the phone rang at the same time, and the first customers arrived, Emery finding herself smiling so much that her cheeks hurt. She couldn't help it. Everything felt lighter, more vibrant. Books she'd handled a hundred times before now seemed brand new.
The bell above the door jingled again, and Abe shuffled in, looking considerably recovered from his recent illness. His sharp blue eyes took in the atmosphere, and a knowing smile spread across his face.
“Well, well,” he said, making his way to his usual chair by the window. “The air feels different in here today.”
Emery busied herself straightening a display that didn't need straightening. “Does it? I hadn't noticed.”
“Mmm,” Abe hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Must be my imagination then.”
He settled into his chair, then reached into his coat, bringing out a small, leather-bound volume. “Found something while organizing my library,” he said. “Thought you two literary souls might appreciate it.”
Eveline came closer, curious. “What treasure have you unearthed now, Abe?”
He held out the book. “First edition Rossetti. Love sonnets, mostly. Quite beautiful, if you appreciate that sort of thing.” His eyes twinkled. “Which I suspect you might.”
Eveline took the book. “Abe, this is too much. I couldn't possibly…”
“Nonsense,” he interrupted. “Books should be where they'll be cherished. And it seems to me that this particular collection belongs here.” He glanced between them. “With you two.”
Emery moved closer to Eveline, looking at the book in her hands. Their shoulders touched, sending a small thrill through her.
“It's beautiful,” Emery said.
“Yes,” Eveline said, but when Emery looked up, she found Eveline looking at her, not the book.
Abe chuckled. “I thought you might think so.” He settled back in his chair, looking immensely pleased with himself. “Now, if someone could bring an old man his morning tea, he'd be most grateful.”
Emery hurried to the kitchenette to get his tea, her cheeks burning with the knowledge that Abe had clearly figured them out.
She wondered who else would notice. Maya, certainly, that woman missed nothing.
Zara too, probably. Was she ready for everyone to know?
To face the questions, the knowing smiles, the…
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to find Domi's name flashing on the screen.
“Hello?” she answered quietly, moving toward the back room for privacy.
“I thought we were meeting at my office?” Domi said without preamble.
Emery's stomach dropped. “We were?”
“Um, yes, unless you’ve forgotten about the publisher’s meeting that I emailed you about three times last week?” Domi said, exasperation evident in her voice. “The one where we're discussing the marketing strategy for your new book? The one you cannot miss if you want to maintain your career?”
“I, um, might have forgotten,” Emery said, panic rising in her chest. “I'm really sorry.”
“It’s fine. Just meet me there, you’ve got an hour,” Domi said. The call ended abruptly.
Emery froze for a second, her mind racing. She couldn't miss this meeting. But she couldn't just disappear without explanation, either. Not now, not after last night.
She returned to the main shop area to find Eveline shelving books, humming to herself. The sight made Emery's heart contract painfully. More lies.
“Eveline,” she said, approaching hesitantly. “I, um, I need to go.”
Eveline looked up, surprised. “Go? Where?”
“My aunt,” Emery said, the lie tasting bitter. “Tennis elbow? She's having… complications. She needs someone to help her with… things.”
Eveline frowned. “Of course,” she said after a second. “Family’s important. You should go.”
“I'll be back as soon as I can,” Emery said, not at all sure how long this was all going to take.
“Take all the time you need,” Eveline said, though something in her eyes had changed, a slight withdrawal that made Emery bite her lip in frustration.
“I'll make it up to you,” Emery said, already backing toward the door. “I promise.”
???
Eveline watched as Emery hurried out of the shop.
“Everything all right?” Abe asked from his chair, peering at Eveline over the rim of his teacup.
“Fine,” Eveline said automatically, though she wasn't entirely sure it was true.
She returned to shelving, feeling a little unsettled.
Emery's sudden departure bothered her more than she wanted to admit.
Not that she needed to know Emery's whereabouts at all times.
It was just… there had been something off about the way Emery had explained herself.
The tennis elbow story had seemed flimsy the first time, now it was beginning to tear at the seams.
“You're frowning,” Abe said. “Books shouldn't make you frown.”
Eveline sighed, sliding the last volume into place. “I'm not frowning at the books.”
“Ah,” said Abe. “Trouble in paradise already?”
“There's no trouble,” Eveline said. “And there's no paradise.”
Abe nodded. “If you say so."”
Eveline moved to the counter and busied herself with paperwork. She was being ridiculous, she knew. She and Emery had shared one night together, she had no right to expect complete transparency. They were still learning each other, after all.
And yet, the ease with which Emery had lied, because Eveline was almost certain it was a lie, troubled her.
But Emery wasn't Charles, she reminded herself. She was kind and genuine and slightly chaotic in the most charming way. If she had secrets, well, didn't everyone? Eveline certainly had her own.
Besides, trust had never come easily to her. Perhaps this was a good exercise in giving someone the benefit of the doubt. In opening herself to vulnerability again, risks and all.
THE DAY PASSED slowly and Eveline found herself glancing at the door whenever the bell jingled, a small flare of disappointment each time it wasn't Emery who walked in.
By closing time, there was still no sign of Emery, and Eveline had almost resigned herself to a solitary evening with a book and a glass of wine. She locked the front door with a sigh.
She was halfway up the stairs to her flat when a knock came at the side door, the private entrance separate from the shop. She turned back to answer it.
Emery stood on the threshold, slightly breathless, clutching a large paper bag that emitted delicious smells. “Hey,” she said, looking nervous. “I brought dinner. To apologize for disappearing.”
Relief and irritation made Eveline hesitant. “You didn't have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” Emery said. “Can I come in? Or is it too late?”
Eveline took a breath and then stood aside. “It's not too late.”
They ate on the sofa, containers of Indian food spread across the coffee table between them, and talked about how the shop had been that day.
It wasn't the conversation that mattered, Eveline thought, but the way Emery's eyes kept finding hers, the way their hands touched when reaching for the same container, the way the tension gradually bled from Eveline's shoulders.
Later, when empty containers were thrown away and they lay twined together on the sofa, Eveline's doubts seemed to melt away beneath Emery's touch. Whatever secrets Emery might be keeping, this connection between them was undeniably real.
“Stay tonight,” Eveline murmured against Emery's neck. “I have clean clothes you can borrow.”
Emery pulled back slightly to look at her. “You're sure?”
“Very sure,” Eveline said, brushing a curl from Emery's forehead.
Perhaps trust, like anything else worth having, needed to be built gradually. Perhaps happiness wasn't about having all the answers, but about being willing to ask the questions and accept that some might remain unanswered for now.
As Emery smiled and leaned in to kiss her, Eveline let herself hope that this time was going to be different. This time, happiness was going to be something she could hold on to.
Even if, for now, it came with a few question marks attached.