Page 5 of Highland Hearts Holiday Bookshop

A year running a bookshop in Scotland.

It was like, all of my dreams come true. At once.

“Say you’ll do it.” Jessica was bouncing on the couch, clutching the papers in her hands.

“But what about my apartment … you … all this?”

“You’re month-to-month on the lease here. And let’s be honest, it’s not a great apartment.”

I looked around at my shoebox apartment. No matter how many paintings I hung on the walls or rugs I threw on the floors, it was threadbare at best. I’d only stayed because the rent was cheap, and I wasn’t the best at change.

“It’s not, I know. But it’s all mine.” After sharing an off-campus house with chaotic co-eds at university, this apartment had become my sanctuary in the first year after I’d graduated. Never once did I come home to random men in the kitchen or the remnants of an all-night rager all over the house or in the bathroom. Maybe, at some point in the last few years, it had also become my hidey-hole from social activities.

“And I’ll come visit. You know I’m killer at finding travel deals.”

It was true, too. Jessica was one of those that livedA Big Lifeon social media, constantly jetting off to exotic locales. I’d joined her once, on a trip to Mexico, and I had to admit—we’d had a blast. But then my student loan payments had kicked in and the discount store didn’t exactly pay top dollar to their employees, let alone a healthy vacation package. I’d been stuck here for the last two years with no fancy umbrellas in my cocktails.

Now, it seemed it was finally my turn.

“I want to do it.” I rushed the words out before I could change my mind or make a list of a thousand reasons why this might be a bad idea.

“Yes!” Jessica pumped her fist in the air. “Finally. Go live your life, Rosie. Seriously. This is so absolutely perfect. It’s like you made room in your life for a new opportunity by kicking John out and, boom, here it is. I love how the universe works sometimes.”

I didn’t roll my eyes, because I was used to Jessica’s woo-woo stuff, but I was far too pragmatic to think that this had all happened on the same day for a reason. If life worked that way, I would have signed with a literary agent the moment I graduated university and published a bestselling book by now.

“Scotland.” I picked up my glass and drank deeply, excitement fizzing inside me like the sparkles in gin and tonic.

“It’s going to be amazing. Life-changing. I can see it now. You might even meet aman in a kilt.”

I craned my head to look at Jessica.

“Why would I meet a man in a kilt?”

“Because statistically speaking you’re more likely to meet a man in a kilt in Scotland than anywhere else.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like they run around in them every day. Do they?” I wrinkled my nose as I thought about it. I truly had no clue the kilt-to-man ratio in Scotland, let alone the day-to-day occurrence of wearing said traditional garments.

“We can only hope. You can pick yourself up a Scottish McHottie and run your own bookstore.”

“I’m not picking up any hottie.” I pointed my finger at her. “My judgment can’t be trusted.”

Jessica pursed her lips as she thought about it.

“Granted your past doesn’t speak highly of your decision-making abilities when it comes to romantic partners.”

“John wasn’t as horrible as you made him out to be.”

“John was tepid on a good day. He’d never even read Tolkien or watchedGame of Thrones. I wonder what you two even had to talk about?”

“I did get him to watchSchitt’s Creekwith me.”

“Hmm, I’ll give him half a point for that.”

“But then he said he didn’t like how Moira spoke.” Remembering that comment now, I realized I should have broken up with him on the spot. Jessica gasped, holding a hand to her chest, offended.

“Howdarehe. Moira Rose, nae, Catherine O’Hara is a national treasure.”

“I know. I think that was the beginning of the end.”And that was week eight of a two-year relationship. Good God.I took another sip of my cocktail and held the cold glass against my throbbing eye.

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