Page 2 of Highland Hearts Holiday Bookshop

“Right this way, ladies,” I said, stepping way back and sweeping an arm out to point in the direction of the water bottle display. The idiots had placed the display at the back of the store, seeming to think that buyers would wander the shop and check out the other deals on their way to their destination. Instead, the crowd blasted past racks of Christmas decorations, Thanksgiving knickknacks, and boxes of wrapping paper. When a display of ornaments went flying, I sighed and stepped farther back and away from the pandemonium.

I couldn’t find it in myself to care about the chaos that was currently unraveling the store like someone had tossed a bouncy ball into a crystal shop. I’d quietly voiced my opinions at the staff meeting, pointing out that a ticketing system, or even just a table directly at the front of the store, would be the most seamless route to sell these bottles, but my thoughts had been immediately dismissed. As usual. It had been easier to bury my nose back in a book, nodding at the right times, than to point out how stupid they were being with their planning. Now, as John hobbled across the store to help his father off the floor, I shrugged.

I should feel bad for them. And in a loosesort of human way, I did. I never liked to see people get hurt. But since they were both up and walking, it didn’t seem like too much damage had been done, so I wouldn’t waste more energy caring. Just the right amount to not make me a sociopath, I decided, and slipped further out of their sight, not wanting to hear what they’d order me to do next. Instead, I walked down a long aisle full of kitchenware and household goods, trying to ignore how the screams from the crowd sent the hair on the back of my neck standing.

I liked people.

I swear I liked people.

I just liked them in small doses.

Smallquietdoses.

Preferably when talking about books, playing board games, or in online forums that required little face-to-face interaction. It wasn’t that I was shy, necessarily, I’d just always found solace with a book in front of my face, and somehow along the way that had become a wall of sorts between me and the outside world. One which I dearly wished I could put up now, as I gingerly crept toward the shouts in the back of the store. Should I even try to do anything to help? What could I possibly say to break up a fight? I’d never evenseena fight in real life.

With the thought of seeing my first real fight piquing my curiosity, I picked up my pace, reaching for my phone to snap a few photos for my best friend, Jessica. She’d eat this up, that was for sure, and I could already hear her harassing me if I didn’t get footage of this. She was always yammering on about going viral and whatnot, but theonly viral things I cared about were advanced reader copies from my favorite fantasy authors.

Hitting record and lifting my phone, I turned the corner at the end of the aisle and entered chaos. One woman lifted her tote bag and smacked another across the face with it, while a third grabbed two of the water bottles out of the other’s tote, and turning, she raised them in the air in victory. Without looking, she barreled away from the crowd.

In other words, directly at me.

I only had a moment to squeak out a warning cry before a mustard-yellow water bottle withBoujee Bitchwritten on it caught me in the eye.

And then everything went black.

Chapter Two

Rosie

Epiphany by way of water bottle and subsequent black eye is not the way I recommend going.

Nevertheless, I suppose one doesn’t get to choose such defining moments in their lives, do they? At least I didn’t. But suffice it to say, when I came to, surrounded by store employees and a few shoppers who’d cared enough to stop to check on me—or in one notable case tofilmme—I finally understood that I really did need to change my life.

And just in case I wasn’t fully getting the message from the universe? Well, the video of me taking a water bottle to the eye had gone viral. Much to John’s and Jessica’s delight.

For differing reasons.

“Babe, the store is getting so much attention for this,” John said, gleefully scrolling the comments on the video while I nursed an ice pack on my eye. No concussion, thankfully, but I’d still gone and gotten checked out at the hospital. Davidson’s Discount didn’t have stellar health insurance, but they also weren’t the least bit interested in a worker’s compensation lawsuit, so John’s dad had popped me in the car and taken me himself. Only when the day was over did I hear from John, when he’d shown up at my apartment an hour after Jessica had arrived.

Empty-handed, unlike my best friend. Zero text messages, unlike my best friend.

Jessica, being who she was, had arrived with ice cream, popcorn, and the promise of aLord of the Ringsmarathon as needed. John had barely looked up from his phone since he’d walked in the door, dropping an absentminded kiss on my forehead as he passed me and pulled a beer from the fridge.

I caught Jessica’s glare from my one good eye.

“Break up with him.” She mouthed this to me, while his back was turned.

It was a familiar refrain, one I’d largely ignored because breaking up with him would also mean breaking up with my job, and despite hating working at the store, I enjoyed having money to pay my bills. Just a small catch-22 there.

I pressed my lips together. Every other time Jessica had insisted I break up with John, I had pushed her off, not ready to make that call. But today? Well, let’s just say, as phones pinged with more incoming notificationsabout the viral video of me going down, I didn’t want to play nice anymore.

Ihatedworking at that store.

And John was a distraction at best.

I’d been treading water in my life for too long.

“John?”

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