Page 80 of Battle of the Bookstores

Our waiter appears with our drinks and food, and I’m so hungry I dive in, closing my eyes in delight when I take my first bite of lobster mac and cheese. Ryan’s doing the same, tasting the fig and prosciutto flatbread.

After we’ve taken the edge off our hunger, he looks up again.

“So you wanted to chat about something?”

“Uh—yeah.” I take another sip of tea, regretting not ordering booze for liquid courage. “Remember how, at the beginning of all this, you said if you won, you’d hire me as your assistant?”

I sneak a glance at him; his brow is furrowed. “Yeah, sorry, I can see how that would be insulting, implying that you should be under me.” He coughs. “Workunder me,” he corrects, but it’s too late; I’m already remembering what it felt like on that beach. His weight over me, his hand sliding up my ribs and under my bra.

I swallow and start over. “What I mean is: maybe you were onto something. What if we could both keep our jobs?”

“How? Xander only wants one manager.”

“Xander knows nothing about running a bookstore. And he has no idea that we have very different strengths in bookselling.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Is Josie Klein admitting I have strengths?”

“You’re great at creating an inclusive, welcoming environment. Customers adore you. Your staff respects you.” I’m surprised at how easily the list comes to me. “Remember how Xander said he wanted people to get their parenting books and their Harry Potters and their spy thrillers all in the same place?”

He shakes his head. “I must have blocked that out—I know nothing about those genres.”

“Neither do I. Which is my point. The new store is going to haveeverything.Think about it: thrillers and baby board booksand how-to books. And a good manager knows the products they sell.”

“I’m stressed out just thinking about it,” he says. “But I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying we should convince Xander that he needs two managers.”

He stares at me for so long I start to get nervous. Our waiter stops by again, bringing us a plate of lemon meringue tart, which I promptly start devouring.

“What are you thinking?” I ask Ryan. He’s being mighty quiet.

He takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “I’m thinking that Xander’s priority is making money.”

“Yeah, and he’s delusional—no one gets rich owning an indie bookstore. But—here, take a look at this.”

I grab a napkin and pen and start doing rough calculations. “If Xander keeps only one of us as manager, the store will be woefully understaffed. You can’t sell books without booksellers, so sales will take a hit—and the new store will have more overhead expenses. Xander could end up in the red. I estimate that the new manager will have to hire more staff—two, maybe even three people to compensate for the loss of one of us, since they won’t have the experience we do.

“So it would be in Xander’s best interests to keep us both,” I finish. “We just have to prove it to him over the next six weeks.”

“How?”

“We’ll have to significantly increase our profits—by a lot, so he can’t ignore that we make more money when working together. We can brainstorm ways to do that. I already have afew ideas, but first, I wanted to see if this is something you’re even interested in.”

There’s an unexpectedly guarded expression on Ryan’s face. And I find myself leaning forward again, hoping he says yes.

“Can I think about it?” he asks.

I sit back, disappointed. Maybe I’ve been reading him wrong. Just because he took me to one of the most bookishly charming places I’ve ever seen doesn’t mean he wants to work with me.

“Of course,” I say. “Just let me know.”

—

When we finishour food and drinks, Ryan tries to take the check, but I badger him into splitting it. We head out of the lounge, and I notice a sign for Bates Hall.

“Do you think it’s still open?” I ask, nodding in that direction.

He glances at his phone. “We have a few minutes. Do you…want to go in?”

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