Page 17 of The Ruse of Romancing
For a moment, I considered backing off and letting Spencer pursue the mystery woman without competition. And if she’d seemed interested in him, I would have. However, I’d read loud and clear the vibes she was giving him when he’d been in the office, and she was far from interested. Some men could come back from that complete lack of interest. Spencer was not one of those men.
“Spencer, my friend,” I said, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder, “that’s your first mistake. The tourists aren’t here for long-term relationships. They’re here for vacation fun and you’re just here to amplify that experience.”
Spencer sputtered, his face turning bright red. I thought I’d lost the ability to shock him when it came to dating. Good to know I still had a few tricks up my sleeve.
Spencer’s guest chose that moment to leave the office, carrying a paperback copy of one of the books she’d been signing. It had a cover I’d seen around. In fact, I was fairly certain Spencer had had an entire table full of this particular book earlier this year.
The cover had the silhouettes of two people turned away from each other, a mix of deep red pomegranates and twisting greenvines framing the scene, the title written in a looping cursive script:Of Curses and Pomegranates. The artist had done a good job. I’d designed a handful of indie book covers for people who’d found my art on social media and reached out, so I knew designing the perfect cover took a fair amount of work and finesse. But looking at the cover, I saw small adjustments I’d make to make it pop more, maybe add a hint of silver mixed in with the vines and fruit or a slight adjustment in the posture of the characters to up the chemistry and tension between the man and woman.
“Do you mind if I buy this copy in addition to the books I picked out earlier? I owe your mom a signed paperback.” She held up the book, looking back and forth between me and Spencer, clearly not wanting to interrupt but also wanting to move on with her day. As her eyes met mine, they lingered an extra heartbeat, a spark of interest in her eyes that I could definitely work with.
I noticed a small stack of books sitting next to the cash register, presumably the books she’d already picked out. I wanted to study the titles, see what I could learn about the woman before making my move. I also wouldn’t mind studying the cover designs, see what had spoken to her. The woman was an author and maybe she could help open some cover design opportunities for me, if I could find a way to leave our interaction on friendly terms.
Spencer snorted, his face stretching into a crazy-eyed smile that would make children cry. Maybe I should help him impress this woman, give him some much-needed flirting tips, number one being:Calm down.
“Of course! Though she really owns enough copies of your book.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a laugh I’d ever heard before, coming out high-pitched and overly aggressive, almost like a donkey bray.
I shifted away from him, not wanting to be associated with whatever craziness was currently manifesting itself in my best friend.
The woman registered the movement, looking at me again with a slow, interested smile. Or at least a friendly smile. I may have imagined the interested part, but I was certain I could win her over if I could get her away from Spencer for a moment.
As Spencer rang up her purchases, asking small-talk questions, I took in her appearance. She was dressed casually, but even under her sweatshirt and shorts, I could tell she had curves I wouldn’t mind exploring.
“Will that be all?” Spencer asked quirking an eyebrow, his voice coming out oddly deep now.
“Oh, actually I did want to wander and maybe pick up a couple of writing craft books.” She turned to take in the store. “Which way...” She trailed off, waiting for Spencer to direct her.
“If you’ll follow me.” Spencer all but climbed over the checkout counter to lead her to the correct section. Dude had no chill and now I understood why he hadn’t had a second date in the years I’d known him.
Just as the pair was about to leave the checkout counter to disappear among the bookshelves, the chime above the door sounded, followed almost immediately by a call from the new customer, the voice shrill and familiar and one that instantly sent chills down my spine.
“Spencer! If the sequel to this book you recommended last week isn’t out yet, I’m going to murder you. You know how I feel about cliffhangers.”
Spencer and I both flinched as we registered who had just walked in: Joyce Campbell. We looked at each other, knowing what would ensue if Joyce felt like she was being ignored. There was a reason her husband, Clyde, spent most of his time hiding at Ed’s now that he was retired. Joyce was never happy, and shewas a force to be reckoned with when she was on a war path. I’d heard rumors she’d made the entire high school football team cry with a single look. I personally had seen her make both Clyde and their son Benny cry on multiple occasions, though, to be fair, Benny was only a few months post-divorce and Joane had also made him cry when she handed him a cup of coffee “on the house” the first time he’d visited the bakery after signing his divorce papers.
“I’ll be right back,” Spencer said to the author, glancing between her and me before disappearing around the corner to deal with Joyce.
“But what about...” The woman trailed off, seeming to register that there was no point protesting. If she thought she was leaving the bookstore any time soon, she was sadly mistaken.
Recognizing an opportunity to introduce myself, I leaned against the checkout counter and pulled her into a conversation.
“Welcome to Cascade Harbor: the prettiest little town on the Oregon coast and the one with the quirkiest residents. Trust me, it’s better for everyone in the bookstore if Spencer helps Joyce now,” I said, nodding in the direction of the entrance. “Otherwise, we’ll all be recipients of a lecture about ‘kids these days’ and how no one understands the meaning of true customer service.” I wished I was joking, but I’d witnessed that lecture one too many times around town and was not in the mood for a repeat.
The woman snorted. “Seriously? What about customer service for the person he just left abandoned at the cash register?”
I shrugged. “Joyce has a very narrow, specific definition of customer service. Essentially, she’sthecustomer and you exist to serve her.”
The woman shook her head, glancing around the shop. “I guess I might as well wander, see if there are any other books that catch my attention. Not that I’m here to read.”
“What are you here for?” I asked, curious. There was something vaguely familiar about the way she stood, one hip cocked to the side, one hand on her waist. Maybe I’d seen her on the beach recently.
“I’m here for work.” The response came out terse and clipped, as if she’d practiced it multiple times but it still felt uncomfortable to say out loud.
I nodded. “Not the typical response for someone visiting Cascade Harbor in the summer. Usually, people come here to escape work. What do you do?” Given that she’d been signing books, the answer was obvious, but it made for easy conversation to get her talking.
She bit her lip, debating what to say next. I was very much a fan of that lip. I wouldn’t mind giving it a little nip, after I’d convinced her she wanted to see me again outside of the bookstore. Though kissing her might not be conducive to leveraging a connection to help with my book cover design efforts. I’d have to play the romantic angle of things by ear. Right now, I was more interested in learning about just how well-connected she was in the publishing industry.
She exhaled, her shoulders slumping as she seemed to make a decision. “You’ll probably figure it out, if you haven’t already.” She gestured to the paperback on the counter next to her stack of books, resigned. “I’m an author. I’m here to write my second book.”
