Page 5 of Battle of the Bookstores

And one that I cannot for the life of me understand:Stfuattdlagg.

Focus, I tell myself. This man has disparaged my books, my store, and my personality. Now he could end up with my job? Everything I’ve worked for in the past five years, the reputation I’ve built, the clientele I’ve cultivated—all my goals for the future are riding on this. I’ve pulled myself out of the humiliating hole of my past to create a career I’m proud of.

I can’t let this guy take that away.

At least my chances of winning are decent. I mean, how many books could a romance bookstore sell, anyway?

2

Ryan

She’s called meBrian three times.

Make that four.

I always figured Josie—see, I knowhername—didn’t like me. She gives me the cold shoulder every time I see her at Beans. Acts like she doesn’t know who I am.

Maybe it’s not an act?

Which would be crazy. She’s worked at the Tab almost as long as I’ve been running Happy Endings. I know she orders an Americano with three shots of espresso in the morning and herbal tea in the afternoon. And a cookie if she’s having a bad day.

Although, TBH, it always looks like she’s having a bad day.

Maybe her bun is too tight. I get the sense Josie never lets her hair down—literally or figuratively. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without a thick book in her hands. It’s like she carts them around to make sure everyone knows she’s Smart with a capitalS.

It’s obvious she is. She’s also really pretty, in an unapproachable, ice-queen way. Dark hair and sharp green eyes, wearing heels so high they could be used as shivs.

Which is why I’ve never had the balls to talk to her.

And I probably won’t have the chance to ever again after Xander’s comment. I didnotdescribe her bookstore as “a bleak wasteland of existential dread.” I said her bookstore is bleak—an objective fact—and her books fillmewith existential dread. Also true.

Okay, so maybe that’s not any better. I still wish I’d corrected him.

“I’m glad you two are being good sports about this,” Xander says.

Josie has her arms crossed over her chest, her jaw clenched tight. I can’t tell if she’s scowling or trying to hold back tears.

“Doesn’t seem like we have a choice,” I say.

Xander laughs as if I’ve made a joke. This whole meeting feels like a joke, and we’re the punch line. I can picture him with his smug grin, lying naked in a California king bed, counting his money and thinking of ways to make his monkeys dance.

I don’t want to dance for him or anyone else, and I don’t want to compete against Josie for our jobs. I wish there was a way we could both win and no one would lose their store.

But the world isn’t all happy endings, dickwad.

I shake my head, trying to clear my older brothers’ words from my mind. They’d probably be happy to see me lose and get a more “masculine” job, one that won’t make them question my sexuality or the fact that I’m single.

The store must be crawling with hotties.

If I were you, I’d be banging a different customer every day.

Sometimes it blows my mind that we grew up in the samehouse with the same parents and ended up with such different ideas about love and sex.

“All right, then.” Xander scoots his chair back so abruptly it screeches against the floor. Josie cringes, revealing a dimple I’ve never noticed. She really is pretty, even when she’s upset. “May the best bookseller win.”

And with that, he’s off.

I turn back to Josie, hoping for a moment of shared commiseration, but she’s eyeing me likeI’mthe enemy.

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