The Indie – Summer
THE INDIE
SUMMER
Adrian
We need to talk, Summer. Now.
Can you answer your phone, please?
I’m busy.
You’re staring out your store’s front window…
Thank you for the ride home earlier this week, Mr. Sinclair.
Adrian*
I appreciate it. Truly.
Did you read the note I left you?
Ididn’t answer him.
I didn’t want to start a damn friendship.
Especially not today.
Shutting my blinds, I slid a pair of sunglasses over my face and slipped out of my shop’s side entrance.
Taking a deep breath, I walked down the alley and headed across the street.
As I neared the entrance of Sinclair Street Books, my heart ached at the sight of the “Bestselling Romance Author Signing This Weekend” sign that featured Gillian Taylor’s photo.
Swallowing the pain, I pushed the doors open and walked inside.
My jaw dropped as I took in the twelve-floor atrium and the massive bookshelves that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.
A stone book-shaped waterfall stood guard at the center, with streams falling down its pages.
The black “road” design in the floor led me toward the romance floor.
With shelves that glowed in soft pink, this floor was more than ten times the size of my entire store.
There was an entire wall dedicated to blind-date books, reading rooms with plush bean bags and chaises, a private tea area for historical romances, and a coffee bar that overlooked the staircase.
It was like someone plucked all my wildest dreams from my head and brought them to life—for someone else.
I couldn’t blame readers for choosing this over me…
Feeling defeated, I walked over to the tea bar and took a seat.
“Welcome to Romance Avenue at Sinclair Street, miss!” The barista beamed as she slid me a menu. “I’m looking forward to serving you today.”
“Thank you.” I feigned a smile as I looked over the menu.
All the drinks were named after classic romance novels, and the treats were dedicated to the top authors.
This is perfect, too…
“To kick off the autumn season, we’re serving samples of Apple Cinnamon Grovel pie. Would you like a slice?”
“No, that’s okay.” I slid the menu back to her. “I, uh, I don’t feel like eating anymore.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll be here for you whenever that changes.”
I slid off the stool. Then I continued my tour, feeding my heart into the grinder with every step.
“Excuse me, miss?” Someone tapped me on the shoulder.
“Yes?” I spun around to see an employee.
“Just letting you know we’re doing a Nora Roberts reading in an hour if you’re interested.”
“Nora Roberts?” I gasped. “Like the Nora Roberts is coming here?”
“Well, not until next year.” She shrugged, handing me a booklet. “This is a fan reading. If you’re into thrillers, J.D. Robb will be here in the flesh next week, though.”
I arched a brow. “You do know that Nora Roberts and J.D. Robb are the same person, right?”
“Ha! Nora Roberts would never waste her time penning futuristic thrillers.” She patted my shoulder. “I’m an expert in all things authors, trust me.”
I held back a sigh as she walked away.
Taking one last lap around the pink floor, I gathered the pieces of my heart that weren’t shattered and forced myself to leave.
At least the readers will get a happy ending…