Page 32 of Tattered Edges

Picking up on Rory’s mood, and not wanting to overstay my welcome, I tossed in a work excuse myself.

“Actually, I should be getting back to the shop, too. Victoria’s probably closing up now.”

“Workaholics, both of you,” Graham grumbled.

“I really appreciate the invite. I had a good time, even though we didn’t win.”

“I hope I’ll see you again. Maybe Daisy and I can pop into the bookshop sometime soon,” said Maya.

“I’d love that,” I replied, genuinely hoping she would.

“Well, go on then, Rory. Aren’t you going to walk her out?”

Rory paused at the sink and glanced over at me. My stomach clenched when those eyes met mine, and it hit me all over again.

I wasn’tmaybeinterested.

I wasdefinitelyinterested.

Except, as we stared at each other for that brief moment, I wasn’t convinced he felt the same. He’d turned me down when he thought I was passing through—but he hadn’t hinted at having changed his mind after learning I was staying. To him, I was probably just the younger, American woman next door.

It was Graham who had invited me over.

Graham who was disappointed I was leaving so soon.

Graham who thought I should be accompanied to the door.

Not Rory.

In order to avoid an awkward goodbye, I waved him off and replied, “No need. I think I can handle the stairs myself. Thanks again. I’ll see you all later.”

After a quick round of farewells, I found myself on the opposite side of the front door. I paused and breathed a sigh. Diane assumed an afternoon with Rory and his friends would help me decide how I felt about the man. In truth, I hadn’t learned much more about him, but that was part of the appeal. He wasn’t an open book. He was an intriguing mystery I wanted to solve.

He was successful and handsome and kind. Yet, he was unattached, which could have meant a number of things.

And that was my problem. The men I liked most were either unattainable in one way or another or remarkably dull after I’d figured him out.

I didn’t think Rory was dull, which meant he was likely unattainable.

The best ones always were.

MyshoppingtripwithVictoria was both exhausting and expensive.

It was also well worth it and, considering my company, incredibly fun.

Sunday had been as practical an outing as it was exploratory. I still hadn’t managed to start on my list of touristy adventures, but a full day of shopping around the city brought with it plenty of new attractions.

On Monday, my things from the states were delivered. By the time I went to bed that night, I was well on my way to being unpacked. I was still sleeping on the couch and digging underwear and socks out of my luggage, but my bedroom furniture was scheduled to be delivered on Thursday. I hoped by the end of the upcoming weekend I’d be fully settled into my new home.

With my living arrangements sorted, I had every intention of pouring myself into the bookstore. As I finished getting ready for work on Tuesday, I mentally sorted through the list of ideas I’d been writing down over the last several days. I really believed Tattered Edges held so much promise, it just needed someone who had the time and ability to pour into it for it to truly succeed. As I understood it, my father spent a decent amount of time at the shop, but his priorities were tied to the publishing business.

While I certainly didn’t consider myself a business guru, I’d spent plenty of time in Diane’s shadow at her art gallery, and I had a passion for books. Not to mention, I had Victoria as a secret weapon of whom I was sure my father didn’t take full advantage.

All in all, I was confident enough to believe in my ideas, and that felt like a decent starting point.

With my second mug of coffee in hand, my keys in the other, and my phone in my back pocket, I locked up my flat and headed for the store. It was only a few minutes after nine, but I wanted to get an early start. Thirty minutes later—my coffee half empty, completely cold, and nearly forgotten—Victoria let herself in through the front and found me on the floor. I was surrounded by books, my arms stretched high above me, my phone camera aimed down in order to get the perfect shot.

“What on earth are you doing?” she asked.

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