Chapter Sixteen
Abigail-Ann
“Love is a canvas furnished by nature and embroidered by imagination.”
~ Voltaire
I pushed open the door to Book Culture , a charming indie bookstore nestled in the heart of the city. The scent of fresh paper mixed with the familiar musk of old books wrapped around me as I stepped inside. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, and cozy reading nooks with plush armchairs were scattered throughout. A staircase in the corner led up to a mezzanine level, giving the space an inviting, layered feel. Soft indie folk music hummed from the speakers, blending seamlessly with the occasional beep of the register and the quiet rustle of pages turning.
I inhaled deeply, trying to steady my nerves. This job was supposed to be a fresh start, a way to regain control over my life. But standing here, gripping the strap of my bag a little too tightly, I realized just how much working in public meant interacting with people. And that was the part I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
I shook the thought away and took a careful step forward. One thing at a time, Abigail. Just breathe.
The young woman at the front desk glanced up and gave me a friendly smile.
“Hi, I’m Abigail-Ann Asher, and I’m here for an interview with Adeline,” I said, my voice betraying a mix of excitement and nerves.
She nodded, still smiling. “Sure, just a moment.” She picked up the phone and made a quick call. “Adeline will be right out.”
I shifted on my feet, exhaling slowly as I tried to shake off the tightness in my chest. A moment later, a tall woman in her early thirties approached. Her dark purple hair framed her warm, professional expression as she walked toward me, dressed in a striped dress and black ankle boots.
“You must be Abigail,” she said, extending her hand with a welcoming smile. “I’m Adeline.”
“That’s right,” I replied, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Wonderful. Come on back to my office.”
I followed her through the store, my gaze flickering over the well-stocked shelves and tucked-away reading corners. It was the kind of place I could easily get lost in—if my nerves weren’t buzzing loud enough to drown out the comfort of my surroundings.
Adeline’s office was cozy but cluttered, with stacks of books piled on almost every available surface. A framed Pride and Prejudice quote hung on the wall, and a steaming cup of coffee sat precariously close to a stack of sticky notes.
“Please, have a seat,” she gestured. I sat down, shifting slightly as I tried to relax.
“The position is for a bookseller—customer assistance, organizing books, and helping with events. Your schedule is Monday to Wednesday, 9am to 5pm; Saturday, 10am. to 2pm.; Sunday, 4pm. to 10pm. Thursdays and Fridays are your off days.”
I nodded, pulling out my phone to jot down the details. Focus on the facts. Don’t overthink this .
“The pay rate is $17.95 an hour, paid biweekly,” she continued, handing me a clipboard. “Fill out this form when you’re ready.”
I took the form, my fingers tightening slightly around the pen before I forced myself to relax. It’s just paperwork, Abigail. You’ve got this.
“The dress code is casual, with a few restrictions,” she added.
“That sounds perfect. Thanks so much,” I said, smiling despite the flutter in my stomach.
Adeline grinned, tucking a stray strand of purple hair behind her ear. “We’re excited to have you! You’ll start Monday. If you need anything, feel free to call.”
I handed the form back, relief washing over me in slow waves. Okay, that wasn’t bad. You didn’t screw up. Everything’s fine.
“Thank you, Adeline. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“See you Monday!”
Stepping out of Book Culture , I pulled my coat tighter against the afternoon air. The nerves from my interview still lingered, but beneath them, something else stirred—relief. Maybe even a spark of excitement.
A fresh start. A new routine. It wasn’t so terrifying when I thought about it like that.
As I walked down the street, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Aurora: How did the interview go?
Me: Really well!
Me: I’ll send you my schedule later.
Aurora: Great! Are you excited?
Me: I’m a little nervous, but I’m okay. It’s perfect until graduation. I’ve started my apprenticeship applications.
Me: Once I have my degree and transcripts, I can submit them.
Aurora: I’m so proud of you! If you need anything, just let me know.
Me: Thanks, sis! Ttyl.
I smiled, tucked my phone away, and walked into the nail salon, where Kody greeted me with her usual energy.
“What are we doing today?” she asked, already settling me into the chair.
“Something simple but cute,” I said, showing her a soft pink design with delicate white lines.
Kody grinned. “Love it. You always go for the classics.”
As she worked, I let my body sink into the chair, the week’s stress slowly fading. When she finished, she lifted my hands for me to admire.
“What do you think?”
“I’m obsessed.”
Kody chuckled. “That’s the goal.”
After admiring my nails for a few more moments, I left the shop feeling… lighter. Like, for the first time in a while, things were actually falling into place.
Not ready to head home just yet, I stopped by The Cozy Corner Café down the street. The warm scent of freshly brewed coffee and vanilla wrapped around me as I stepped inside. I ordered a lavender latte and found a quiet corner by the window, ready to sit, sip, and breathe.
Just as I settled in, my phone vibrated.
Mikkel.
I smiled before I even opened the message.
For the past few weeks, we’d been texting every day, and I didn’t mind one bit. Yesterday, he surprised me with a playlist of Lana Del Rey songs he thought suited me—including a few love songs. He titled it Songs for You , and I grinned like an idiot when I saw it. The cover was a mix of Lana’s pictures and soft florals, and it felt so thoughtful. I was genuinely taken aback by how much he noticed the little things .
I’d hesitated to give him my number at first, unsure if his interest would fade. But it didn’t. If anything, he grew more consistent, more engaged.
I couldn’t remember the last time a day felt complete without hearing from him. He listened to my endless voice messages, responded to every detail. He watched all my vlogs and even sent some back. If it weren’t for his constant traveling—England, China, California, Seattle—I was sure we would’ve hung out by now.
The sound of a spoon clinking against a cup pulled me out of my thoughts. I blinked, realizing I’d been staring at his name on the screen the whole time. Shaking off the daydream, I opened his message, already knowing it would make me smile all over again.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Good morning, Red.
Me: Good morning, Mikkel.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: How’s your morning been so far?
Me: Productive! Locked in a job, got my nails done, and now I’m sitting in a café, living my best life.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Congratulations on the job, Red. Proud of you.
Me: Thank you!
Me: How’s your morning?
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Spent all day vetting potential hires.
Me: Didn’t you just get back from China?
If I thought traveling between San Francisco and New York was exhausting, I couldn’t imagine how wiped he must have been, hopping between back-to-back trips. And then heading straight into work like he was immune to exhaustion? His dedication was impressive—annoyingly so. Something told me he wasn’t just hardworking; he was relentless.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Duty calls, carino. Hitting the gym later too.
Me: Aren’t you tired?
@mikkelsuarezofficial: I’ll sleep when the work is done.
Me: Mm-hmm. If you say so.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Can I see your nails?
Me: *attachment *
@mikkelsuarezofficial: These are gorgeous.
Me: Thank you! I think they might be my favorite set yet.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Mine too. But maybe I’m just biased toward anything you like.
Oh.
Okay.
A warmth bloomed in my chest, spreading all the way to my fingertips. He was smooth— too smooth.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: I want to take you out Saturday.
Oh my god. Finally.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: I’m asking you on a date, Red.
Me: I’d love to.
Me: Where are we going?
@mikkelsuarezofficial: New York Aquarium.
I stared at my phone, a slow grin tugging at my lips. Not a restaurant? Was he heaven-sent?
Me: Time?
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Around ten. Want the full experience with you.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Where should I pick you up?
Me: I’ll meet you there.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: Are you sure?
Me: Yes! See you at ten, Mikkel.
@mikkelsuarezofficial: See you at ten, Red.
It was like he’d read my mind, sensing my doubt about whether we’d ever actually meet in person despite our constant texting. But this? This was real. My heart did a giddy little flip at the thought of spending an entire day with him—not just dinner, but an experience.
An adventure.
Sea creatures. Ocean tunnels. Touch pools. Maybe even sea lions if they were in season.
Excitement and nerves tangled in my stomach, but mostly, I just felt happy. Happy that he asked me out. Happy that we weren’t doing something cliché. Happy about him.
It felt right.
It felt dangerously real.