Page 30 of Another Story

“As am I,” I tell him, turning away to assess the boxes of books that came in the day before. I’d been too cranky and tired to deal with them then, and I’m paying for it now.

“Where did you get the money to pay off your loan?” he asks for the second time.

Leave it to a man to get what they want and still not be satisfied.

My mother would chastise me for participating in the heteronormative gender roles.Love is love, she always said.

I guess I’m just better at hate. Or something a little milder, anyway.

“What does it matter? If I got naked on a pole, if I pawned my precious stones, if I sold some of my eggs,what does it matter?” My back is turned to him, but my hands are outstretched as I try to keep from exploding. “You got the money you were after.”

“You get into bed with those men and nothing good will come of it,” he warns me, reeking of small-town close-mindedness that makes me feel claustrophobic.

Hewouldchoose that verbiage. My urge to chuckle is eclipsed only by my desire for him to be quiet and mind his business.

“Ben, I will find the largest book in this store and chuck it at your dense skull if you don’t leave me alone about this.” I bend to pick up the nearest box, a grunt punctuating the arduous task at hand.

I don’t realize he’s taking the box until it’s out of my hands.

He sets it on the edge of the counter. “You don’t intimidate me, Lucy,” he tells me, giving me enough personal space to not feel uncomfortable with the fact that only he and I occupy the store.

Still, the need to push him even farther from me has me glaring at him. “And you don’t affect me, Ben. Are we done sharing our feelings so I can get some work done?” I place one hand on my hip and the other on the box.

Ahead of me, the day isn’t filled with much promise. Stocking books, watching the door, waiting for someone, anyone, to walk inside and fall in love with this place.

I can breathe, knowing this man can’t come back in here and take this place from me. But the breathing stops short at the sound of the bell jingling above the door and the sight of the man crossing the threshold in his charcoal suit.

And my damn hippocampus betrays me again. The way his fingers pressed into my skin, the way his kiss emptied everycohesive thought from my mind, the way my body formed against his, it all rushes back to me.

“Good morning, Eloise.” He nods at Ben, offering his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Ezra James.”

Ben stares at his outstretched hand before glancing at me. I’m not sure if he’s looking for permission but I don’t care if they shake hands or wrestle, as long as they don’t do it in here. My shrug is quick, and I look away, ready to get to work.

I hear the bell jangle again, signaling Ben’s departure.

“Are you going to spend the day chasing people out of here, Mr. James?” I finally glance up at him again as I await his response.

“Apparently I’m spending it chasing you,” he answers, his tone lazy as he flicks at one of the tea lights hanging by the register.

It’s time I learned that I’d have to answer for ignoring people’s attempts to reach me. All of his calls went unanswered, his texts ignored. It was only a matter of time before he sought me out.

“No need. My routine is pretty predictable,” I tell him, ignoring the box sitting between us.

“So is your lack of response.” He lifts a brow and smirks, and I wonder if this is all it takes for women to throw their panties at him. I’m almost ashamed that it took me a lot less.

“And yet, you continue to contact me.”

“Yes, Eloise. There is someone in the world more stubborn than even you.”

I want to ask him why he’s here. But even I know when it’s time to push my luck and when it’s time to play nice. He’s the reason I’m able to tell Ben to leave me alone. The reason I’m able to stay here, in this place that’s been my entire life for nearly a decade.

“What’s your schedule looking like today?” he asks.

“Looking to collect payment?” I toss out, trying to stave the nerves that threaten to make my voice shake.

“In the form of a meal, if you’d be so kind,” he answers, gazing out of the window.

There aren’t many people around, but I still feel antsy, having him here. I know Sophie’s at work and Kitty is hopefully enjoying her day off. Still, the last thing I need are people running and telling Sophie about a strange man in the store.

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