Page 83 of Battle of the Bookstores

I was caught up in the moment, picturing us working together and growing even closer, until she burst my bubble with that one little sentence:We should keep things professional.

Last night proved that what happened in Maine wasn’t a fluke—wedoget along well (when we’re not in competition) and wedefinitelyhave chemistry. But I’m not clear about what Josie thinks—or wants to do—about it.

I’ve read enough romance novels to know that a happy ending needs to be earned. Like I’ve said for years, it’s not realistic to go directly from enemies to lovers. It makes more sense to go from enemies to friends,thento lovers.

The only problem: I’m still keeping a giant secret from her.BookshopGirl has beenveryclear that she doesn’t want to know who RJ is, and I promised I’d leave it in her hands. But would Josie want to know?

“Hey!” Josie’s voice breaks through my thoughts like a siren song.

“Hi!” I say, straightening. I’m at the front register, working through my to-do list.

“Are we still on for later?” There’s a spark in her eyes, like she’s as excited about our plans to start working together as I am.

Although I have a feeling she’s more excited about the “working” part, while I can’t stop thinking about the “together” part.

“Can’t wait.”

“Me neither!” Josie’s smile is so wide, she looks like a kid on Christmas morning. Or Chanukah evening? I’m pretty sure she’s Jewish. “I’ve already started thinking of some ideas.”

“Awesome,” I say, even as my stomach twists. The only ideas I’ve had are of the unprofessional variety.

“What’re you working on?” she asks, following my gaze to the computer screen.

“Oh, just an order from Ingram.”

“Ooh!” She lights up. “What’s your strategy? Your method?”

“My…method?”

Josie laughs. “You don’t just blindly guess how many of each book you’ll need, do you?” Her smile fades when she sees my blank expression. “Oh, you do.”

“Show me how you do it,” I say.

She hesitates, then seems to remember we’re workingwithand not against each other. “Come with me.”

—

Forty-five minutes later,I have even more respect for Josie. She has a whole system to log her inventory and sales, analyzing the data to project how many of each title she should order. Mind. Blown.

Another reason working together makes sense—I’m terrible at the business stuff. Seeing how much work Josie puts into that aspect of her job, I realize how over my head I would be managing the new combined bookstore without her.

When I get back to my side of the store, Cinderella is on the leather couch, reading, Persephone curled up on her lap.

“Sit,” she commands, closing her book.

A cursory glance around the store is enough to tell me the few customers we have don’t need any immediate attention, so I join Cinderella, taking a seat in the purple chair beside her.

“What’s going on between you and that stuck-up girl next door?” she asks, eyes blazing.

“Nothing.”

Cinderella arches an eyebrow.

“We’re just friends,” I say. “Friends who went out to dinner last night.”

Cinderella grimaces. “You need to be careful—she might be trying to use her womanly charms to loosen you up and steal your secrets.”

“I don’t have any secrets to steal. Unless you count the mantra of ‘What would Elaine do?’ that runs on a loop in my head.”

---