Page 34 of A Novel Love Story

Junie winced. “Yeah …”

“And there’s no chance of him coming in tomorrow?”

“On a Sunday? Sure, when hell freezes over.”

It was worth a shot. I pulled my hair over my shoulder, and gave it a tug, racking my brain for anyone else who could fix my car. “Is there another mechanic in town?”

“Garnet left with Bea, and Lyssa doesn’t really know much about cars so …” Junie frowned, and sat down on the curb beside me. “Not really. Did I mention—I’m Junie, by the way.”

“Elsy,” I replied, and took a deep breath. Okay, so Frank was out of the question—at least until Monday. “I guess it could be worse.”

“Right,” Junie agreed. “You could be stuck in Poughkeepsie.” And she shivered dramatically.

I snorted a laugh. It was one of the running jokes in Quixotic Falls—everyone hated Poughkeepsie. All the Bad Boyfriends came from there.

For a moment, I mulled over the thought of staying until Monday. I could try to walk out of Eloraton, up the road and across Charm Bridge, but would I make it before the rainstorm came again? Probably not today. And even if I got to the main road, who knew how far it was until another town? “I guess staying until Monday won’t be so bad. Though, do you have any suggestions on places to stay? I sort of slapped my only option.”

She grinned, bright and excited, and it made her hazel eyes glitter. “Well, you’ve met the right person, then. You’re looking at the co-owner of the only bed-and-breakfast in town.”

I was confused. “I thought it wasn’t done with renovations yet?”

“I mean, it’smostlydone,” she pointed out. “Mostlydone is onlyslightlynot done.”

“Ah …”

She waved off my confusion. “Don’t think too hard on it. C’mon,” she added, getting to her feet, and outstretched a hand to help me up.

Sunlight glinted off the half dozen rings on her fingers, and shimmered against her silver and gold bracelets. I looked at her outstretched hand, and then up at a woman I had read about countless times—I’d highlighted passages about the way her heart beat brighter whenever Will Carmichael walked into the room—while trying to find those feelings in real life. Her outstretched hand wasn’t a trap, but it felt like one, regardless.

If I accepted it, then I was going to stay here until Monday.

What was the worst that could happen?

So I took her hand, and she pulled me to my feet.

11

Monsoon Season

JUNIE CHATTED ABOUT THElocal drama as we walked back toward my car. Most of the things I already knew from the novels—like how Gemma and Frank were currently fighting over who would havethecondiment in Eloraton, and how the Grumpy Possum Café was named for the possum that lived in the ceiling that kept evading them every time the owners tried to capture him.

“Though the possum hasn’t been seen in ages. We’re all hoping he just went off to make babies or something,” Junie said. “I feel like he’s just lurking somewhere, waiting to be found. Don’t tell anyone, but Jake isbereftover it.”

The Grumpy Possum Café without the possum? I’m sure he was just hiding.

There was a small grocery store, and the pharmacy beside it had a real and working soda counter. There were little boutique shops and a general store and clothing stores selling fashion that had been in, well,fashionprobably half a decade ago, and most of the shops that weren’t important to the books were forgettable in the way that the menu had been unfinished in the café—half-thought-out and blurry.

We retrieved my duffel bag from my car, and I eyed the box of books in the back. Should I take them with me, too? No, they should be fine where they were. After all, who was going to steal a bunch of paperbacks? I closed the hatchback.

A heavy raindrop landed on my nose. Then another on my forehead. I glanced up—and the sky was dark. The clouds had turned in a matter of minutes.

Junie held out her hand, and watched a few raindrops pool in her palm. “Again with the rain,” she muttered. The clouds looked about ready to give. The storm looked angrier than the one earlier, like the one from last night. “I don’t think we’re gonna beat the rain. Wanna go to Gail’s for an early dinner?”

“Sounds like a plan. Ah! It’s starting!”

We ran for the Roost, but by the time we slipped into the cool bar, we were both halfway to soaked. Gail brought us over towels as we took seats near the middle of the bar. We dried off as we ordered house wine and burnt burgers.

“You really need to stop getting caught in the rain, darling,” Gail said to me, and I ducked my head in embarrassment.

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