Page 22 of Out of the Cold

“I’m staying in Jeffrey for the winter while I work on the second book.”

“In that case, I’d love to have you read here one afternoon. It would be a real treat for everyone. What do you think?”

Her first instinct was to demur. She’d had a modest tour when the book came out, and not all of the events had been stellar. Only four people had shown up to the first one. But she wanted a career as a writer, which meant she couldn’t turn down offers like this one.

“That would be wonderful,” she said.

“Perfect. Let me take a look at the calendar, and I’ll be in touch about dates. I’ll look for something right before Christmas, when there are lots of people in town.”

Giddy now, she let Hector lead her to the cash register, where he introduced her to the two other booksellers. One of them, a girl of maybe eighteen or nineteen named Kelly, had actually read her book.

“Oh my God, this is so cool. I love that book! I recommend it all the time.”

Lucy’s face got hot with embarrassed pleasure. “Thank you. That’s so nice to hear.”

“Do you think you’ll ever write a book about Maggie?” Kelly asked.

“That’s what I’m working on right now.”

“That is so awesome. I can’t wait to read it.”

She left the store with a smile still on her face, feeling like a real author.

Crossing the street, she pushed through the door to a little café and stood there, inhaling the scent of coffee and baked goods.

It was busier than she’d realized, with only a couple of open tables. Taking off her coat, she draped it over a chair to reserve it and placed her order at the counter. She’d only been away from San Francisco for five days, but she’d taken no joy in the city her last few months there. Her split with Mark and the subsequent uncertainties had left her reeling. If it hadn’t been for Hilde, she might not have left the house at all some days.

The barista brought her sandwich and hot chocolate, and she sat and read the first few pages of one of her new books, content to be exactly where she was.

She’d drunk most of her hot chocolate when a movement at the corner of her eye made her look up.

Gabriel stood a few feet away, a mug in one hand, frozen in what appeared to be indecision.

There was one open table, but he was obviously contemplating whether he should sit with her.

She had to clear her throat to speak. “Hi, Gabriel.”

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