Page 88 of The Fiancée Farce
Gemma (8:17 p.m.):Is it really such a crime? Wanting to do something nice for my fiancée?
Nicewould be taking her out for dinner at a reasonably priced restaurant, somewhere local, with a happy hour, maybe.
Gemma (8:18 p.m.):Tansy, sweetheart, just... I’ve never gotten the chance to woo anyone before. It’s new. All of this is new for me.
Her heart squeezed, just shy of painful. This was new for her, too. Not just the wonderful, swoony bits, but letting someone do nice things for her.Carefor her. She’d been taking care of herself for so long that it was a knee-jerk reaction to refuse handouts.
Tansy (8:19 p.m.):You hardly have to woo me. I’m already yours, remember?
Just typing out that word made her stomach flutter.
Gemma (8:20 p.m.):Stop wooing you? Never. Look, I might not have much experience in the realm of relationships, but I’m pretty sure getting lazy with the effort is a death knell for romance.
That sounded an awful lot like Gemma was thinking long term. Tansy smiled stupidly at her screen.
Tansy (8:21 p.m.):Yeah, effort as in bringing home the occasional bouquet of flowers and doing the dishes because you know that’s my least favorite chore.
Tansy (8:21 p.m.):Which in case you didn’t already know, now you do—I hate doing the dishes.
Gemma (8:22 p.m.):You’re thinking small, sweetheart. I can do all of that *and* build you a rare books room *and* whisk you away to Al Barbacani Venezia for the best Italian food you’ve ever eaten in your life. It’s not an either/or deal.
Tansy leaned against the counter so she wouldn’t swoon. She hadn’t the slightest idea where Al Barbacani Venezia was located, but she was willing to bet it wasn’t in the city. That it wasn’t even stateside.
Gemma (8:23 p.m.):Besides, it’ll be good for business, right? Good for the store, meaning good for all the other employees?
Gemma (8:23 p.m.):Saying no would be selfish, Tansy.
Tansy laughed. Oh, she wasevil.
Tansy (8:24 p.m.):You’re terrible.
Gemma (8:24 p.m.):You flatter me.??
The bell above the door chimed while she was in the middle of composing her reply. In her haste to text Gemma, she must’ve forgotten to flip the sign on the door toClosed. “I’m so sorry, but we’re closed!”
When no response came, Tansy tore her eyes from her screen and—her fingers went slack, her phone landing on the floor with an awful, ominous crack.
“Tucker,” she said, voice surprisingly steady, considering how unsteady she felt. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in a room with him alone, but however long ago it was, it was too soon. “What are you doing here?”
He stood in the doorway, removing his gloves one finger at a time, paying Tansy no mind, not caring that she’d just told him they were closed. He swept the store with narrowed eyes that finally landed on her, looking her up and down, lurid in a way that never failed to leave her feeling like she needed several scalding showers to rid herself of him, even though it had been years since he had touched her.
“Nohellofor your future... what is your wedding going to make us? Cousins-in-law?”
“We’re nothing,” Tansy said sharply, words the only weapon she possessed.
Tucker stepped closer, and Tansy stumbled back, instinctive.His stride was wider than hers, and with that one step he managed to breach the space between them, forcing her to walk back again to counter his approach.
“What? I can’t patronize my neighborhood bookstore?”
Tucker was a pro atpatronizing.
Not to mention, he’d never once stopped by the store. His timing was suspicious.
“This isn’t your neighborhood, and considering all the papers I wrote for you when we were in school, I’m surprised you know how to read,” Tansy snapped.
Tucker lifted a hand to his chest, a faux pout twisting his lips. “You wound me, Tansy.”
“Be wounded somewhere else. Like I said, we’re closed.”
