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The bookshop was situated in a London townhouse, and it sprawled upwards in a series of twisting narrow passageways from its ground floor to the narrow, domed reading room on the top floor. On the third floor, looking out across the quiet back streets of Mayfair, Rosemary sat and waited as the booksellers set up her event and signing. She had arriveda little early to acclimatise and prepare, something she had found always helped her anxiety. Her dad would say that she treated events like she was going into a fight: always know where the exits are, come prepared with a plan. Rosemary figured that if she considered all possible outcomes at an event, thought about all the things people might ask her, then she wouldn’t feel stuck in the moment. To her, that all seemed perfectly sensible, but apparently it also meant she was just an anxious person.

Rosemary had noticed, though, that her anxiety levels were decreasing recently, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t know why. With Ellis, she could talk about her worries. Not that she couldn’t speak to Dina and Immy, or her dad, but she didn’t want to bother them all the time with her various concerns. When her mama was diagnosed, Rosemary had never felt so afraid. Her mind ran through every possible scenario of every course of treatment, and planned ahead for every outing just in case something came up. Even trips to the local supermarket weren’t spared from Rosemary’s overplanning.

She’d rehearse how to speak to the doctors, what kinds of questions to ask, because she knew her dad would be too emotional in the moment. She had planned everything and still, in the end, it hadn’t mattered. She hadn’t wanted to add to her parents’ worries by letting them into the chaos that was her brain. Their lives had been busy with the illness. Her friends’ lives had been busy with their own problems.

And it wasn’t that Ellis wasn’t busy, he just…understood her. He understood that sometimes she just needed a sounding board, or a quick reality check. He could see when her mind was running a mile a minute and he knew what she needed toquiet it. It wasn’t just sex, of course it wasn’t, but his very presence had become a balm to her. When he entered the room, the air became a little easier for her to breathe. How was it possible that a single person could simultaneously make her relax and also rile her up with so much desire?

She had told him about the ghosts and she was glad he felt he could be honest with her, too, show every side of himself, including his sexuality. She had begun to wonder, since they had returned from filming at Hallowvale, what was really happening between them. He’d set up her dream home office, and had made it very clear he wanted her to stay. This morning, she’d woken up facing Ellis. Even without her glasses she could see the way his face softened in sleep, his long dark lashes fanning his cheeks. The hair around his temples was starting to go grey, and he had begun growing a salt-and-pepper beard. Rosemary thought he was excruciatingly attractive either way, and she did enjoy the rough sensation of the beard when he was between her legs, she couldn’t deny it.

Sometime in the night, she must have turned to face him, and his arm was draped heavily across the dip of her waist, his fingers brushing her spine. His breath was warm on her face.

It wasn’t long until she would be returning to Blossom Ridge. First to visit her dad, and then, theoretically, to go back to New York to find a new apartment. But that idea began to feel more and more like a fallacy.

Rosemary pulled out her phone and searched for places to rent. She could go to Little Hathering, where Immy, Eric, and the twins lived. Dina and Scott were there all the time, too, since that’s where their parents lived. Or she could look into Putney, close to Dina’s apartment. Or Lower Foxleigh. That was the nearest station to Ellis’s house. There was also UpperFoxleigh and Foxleigh, not that she really understood why the English needed three stations in the same three-mile radius.

She looked at all three locations. One apartment was alright, it got lots of morning light and was within her price range, but…it didn’t have a bakery remnant. She clicked on another place. Okay, this one was better. It had a balcony that looked out over a local park, and wasn’t too far from the station, but it was only one bedroom. Rosemary was so tired of living her entire life in a tiny space. Crucially, this place didn’t have her new beanbag chair, or her desk that Ellis had built facing out into the garden and all the birds that took to eating and washing in the feeders and bath he’d built.

And it didn’t have Ellis.

He had said he wanted her to stay. But did that mean for now, or forever?

Well, maybe none of these apartments were right. But she’d find somewhere that fit the bill. She still had time. Tomorrow, they were hosting a little lunch at their house…wait. When had she started thinking of Ellis’s house as “theirs”? That was new. Dina, Scott, Immy, and Eric were coming, and Ellis had invited his sister, Annie, once he’d been able to get through to her. When she’d messaged Dina and Immy in their group chat, she’d been met with lots of long messages in all caps. Clearly, they were excited. Dina had said she was practising reading auras at the moment and would be attempting to look at Ellis’s. Rosemary hadn’t told him about Dina’s witchcraft yet, she needed to ask her friend’s permission first, though if Ellis was on board with ghosts, she didn’t think a little magic would freak him out.

Her phone pinged with a text from her dad.

How’s the view, sweetpea?he asked in his customarygreeting. She snapped a photo of the view outside the window, and a second one of the rows of crowded bookshelves.

Not too shabby, at my London book signing.

Knock ’em dead,came the response.Looking forward to seeing my favourite daughter soon.

You only have one kid, Dad.

Don’t tell them that.With this, he sent back a photo of the farm kittens. They were growing up so quickly, Rosemary wouldn’t be surprised if they were weaned off milk now and were eating solids. She was excited to see her dad, and maybe tell him about Ellis. Oh, who was she kidding, she woulddefinitelybe telling him.

Rosemary shot back another text, just as someone entered the room.

“Hi, Rosemary, we’re ready for you now.” It was Mona, the owner of the bookstore. The Reader’s Rest was a family business, it seemed, as Mona had her brother Ali working the till downstairs. All of them were celebrating Rosemary’s signing by wearing colours that matched the cover ofWhen the Devil Takes Hold,Ali in red and black, and Mona in a patterned red, black, and purple hijab. Rosemary had been so delighted that they’d all taken a photo together. She wasn’t on social media much, but she sent it to her UK publicist, Warren. He was meant to be here today, in fact, as general support, but had texted Rosemary an hour ago to say his cat was vomiting all over the place, so he was stuck at home. It was fine, she had mentally prepared for a scenario where he couldn’t make it, and Mona had been so lovely and hospitable.

Stepping out of the peace and quiet of the back room, Rosemary realised that perhaps she had not mentally prepared herself forallpossibilities. Namely, that the bookshop floor that had been opened up as an event space for her signing was heaving with people. All here to seeher.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Mona,” she said to the bookseller, and her voice only betrayed her nerves a little. She’d done bookshop events before, she could do it again. Only, it had been a long time since she’d done a UK event, over a year in fact. Last time it hadn’t been announced thatWhen the Devil Takes Holdwould be turned into a movie, so she supposed her fan base must have grown after that announcement. It probably helped that the book was set in England.

“Hi, everyone, thanks for coming.” She smiled, weaving through people and following Mona around the side of the room to the signing table. Stacks and stacks of all of her books were here, including copies ofJuliawith its creepy UK cover. She looked into the audience and noticed that a lot of fans had brought their own well-loved copies from home, and that warmed her enough to soothe the anxiety somewhat.

As Rosemary sat down, Mona picked up a small mic and set it on the table near her. Before she switched it on, she bent down and said in a quiet voice: “There’s forty people in here, but you should know there’s another thirty or so outside who didn’t buy tickets but still want a signed copy. I reckon it’s our biggest event since spring.”

“Wow, I’m flattered they’ve all turned up for me,” Rosemary said.

“You’ve earned it,” Mona replied sincerely and switched on the mic.

“Thanks for joining us here today for a reading and signing from the inimitable Rosemary Shaw, the scream queen ofhistorical horror.” There was enthusiastic applause. Rosemary took a deep breath, her eyes casing the room. Lots of smiling readers, but no Ellis. He did say he would come, and she knew he would. But where was he? Had he finally figured out a “celebrity disguise” so good even she couldn’t spot him from this vantage point? Unlikely. He was probably just running late.

After the introductions, she read a snippet from the third chapter ofWhen the Devil Takes Hold,when Alfred first arrives at the manor and takes in its gothic façade. Except now that she read it, her mind drifted to the film set. That day with the rain streaming down, Ellis’s figure standing before Hallowvale. The character of Alfred transmuted in her mind to look more and more like Ellis as she read on. At one point, Rosemary looked up, her eyes scanning the audience again. He was there. In the corner of the room, leaning against a bookshelf, his baseball cap pulled down and, even though he wore sunglasses inside, she could tell his gaze was locked on her. Her heart thumping wildly in her chest, she offered him a secret smile, which he returned. Ellis was here.

When her reading ended, the signing began.

This bit was always easier. All she had to do was chat a little with each reader; the trickiest part was making sure to spell their name correctly when signing. She kept wondering when Ellis might come and join her, though he was probably holding back to remain inconspicuous. After a while, the people began to blur, and within forty-five minutes she was already on her second Sharpie. There were only a handful of people left now.