Chapter 35
The decision is made to not go home right away, or in Noah’s case, back to the hotel. Instead, we decide to go back to the store.
He wants to work.
I want him to work.
I know that it will be appreciated.
When we walk through the front door, I stop and take it in. This is not the store I left on Tuesday night.
The shelves are moved around. There are twinkle lights everywhere. The front window is a mix of books from all the attending authors, though Noah’s are the most prominent ones.
Even though the plan is that the Q&A sessions are to now happen at Mrs. Packer’s store, there are a few more reading nooks set up, as well as the table where there will be author signings.
“Well, you both look satisfied,” Lily says from behind the counter. “Though, I thought you’d still be partaking of your?—”
I hold up a finger to cut her off. There is no reason in the world she needs to say the word sex-cation in the store when there are customers.
I think that’s when Noah realizes just how many customers are in the store and he hurries past me, laptop under his arm, and into my office, closing the door behind him.
“Everything okay?” Lily’s humorous eyes have now gone wide and worried.
“He’s inspired,” I say and there’s a smile that surfaces on my mouth as I look at the closed door.
“You rocked his world.”
That might be the case, but that wasn’t it. “Have you ever been to the Stanley Hotel?” I ask.
“Yeah. Who hasn’t?” Lily says as she opens a book on the top of the stack next to her to add to the computer.
“Did you feel anything? See anything?”
Her interest is piqued and she lifts her head to look at me.
“Did you?” she asks.
I lean in. “I ran out of the hotel.”
The grin on her face says she’s amused by my story. “And demented thriller writer?”
“Hasn’t stopped writing since we left the hotel.”
Now she crinkles up her nose. “So no sex-cation?” she whispers.
“Oh, no, there was plenty of that, but he’s been working almost non-stop too. Whatever happened in that hotel lit the fire for him.”
Her grin is back. “Everyone will be glad to hear that.”
There is calm in the store, even though we’re crazy busy. The event starts on Thursday, but there are already people starting to arrive.
After lunch, Katie blows in like a small tornado and beelines straight to me.
“You’re back already,” it’s a statement, not a question.
“We came back this morning. That was the plan.”
I can’t decide if there is some relief on her face or if it’s irritation. But, she drops her shoulders, so I’m going to go with relief.
“You had a nice time?” she asks.
“Wonderful.”
“Good. Is he at the hotel?”
I shake my head. “He’s in the office, working,” I say with confidence.
Now a small smile curls up the corner of her mouth. “Working?”
“Working,” I say. “The trip was what he needed. He’s been working non-stop.”
Now her eyes brighten. “That is really good news.” Then, she lays her hand over mine. “You might have been the best thing for him,” she says before she turns and heads toward Mrs. Packer’s.
Her sentiment, though appreciated, stirs some doubt in me. I can’t just be his muse and sleep with him so he’ll work.
I shake away the thought. That’s not what she said.
I turn and look at the door. Behind it, a genius is creating a masterpiece. There should be some pride in knowing I helped free his mind so he could work. Too many people seem to be depending on him.
Of course, it goes further than being the muse. There is a need to check on him.
Instead of barging through the door, I walk to the back of the store, make him a cup of coffee, and head back to the office. But Katie has beat me to it.
In her hand she has a coffee from Pack-a-Punch, and she’s handing it to him. This has me holding back, watching the interaction.
His body takes up the space between the jamb and the door—he’s keeping her out, but she doesn’t look fazed.
Then there’s the moment he sees me. My heart melts when his mouth lifts into a smile, and Katie turns to see me.
“I wanted to give you a new list of questions for the author Q&A,” she says, holding out a stack of papers to me.
I move in and take them. “I thought you already emailed me these.”
“These are Sylvia’s,” she says, but I can see her face trying not to contort into displeasure. “She had some specific questions she wanted to be asked.”
“Doesn’t that take away a bit of the spontaneity?”
Noah shakes his head. “There is no spontaneity with that one. She’s a planner. You should see her plot a book,” he says, and my insides tighten. How much time have they spent together if he knows her process?
Katie winces at Noah’s comment. “She’s just a very prepared kind of person. It shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
Well, when she words it that way, she’s baiting me right into the answer. “No problem.”
Katie smiles. “Wonderful.” She turns back to Noah. “Dylan is flying in on Sunday,” she says and Noah’s eyes go wide. “He’s bringing Rachel Anderson.”
With the woman’s name, Noah’s face shifts again. There is a lightness in his eyes and a smile toying with his lips.
“I’ll be ready,” he says.
Katie gives him a curt nod, smiles at me, and heads back into the store. At this point, I realize I don’t even have control over my own store now. She does. And my team follows her. But sales are up, so I won’t complain.
Only now I have to deal with this tense feeling in my shoulders and the gnawing in my belly. Who in the hell is Rachel Anderson, and why did Noah light up like that?