Page 30 of Fighting Words

“Was it always the plan for you to take it over for her?”

She puffs out a breath, her forehead scrunching with frustration as she considers the question. “No, actually. Notat all. I was an in-house accountant at an oil and gas company in California. I assumed that was what I would do forever, but then my grandmother got sick and…” She shrugs, and her brown eyes lock with mine. “Long story short, I left it all behind to come here and help take care of her. She’s better now, but she can’t run the shop like she used to.”

“I’m sure she’s proud you’ve stepped in.”

She forces a laugh. “You mind telling that to my mom? She insists I’m wasting my time over here.”

I’m hit with a wave of sympathy. “I’m sorry. Family can be tough.”

She must sense that I speak from experience because her smile gentles, her eyes soften. In a way, I’m no longer the enemy.

“So you’re working with Nathaniel?” she asks, setting aside her task to reach for her coffee. She must not be in too much of a rush this morning. “Does that mean you’re with his publisher?”

“Yes, I’m a newly minted editor with InkWell. Just started actually.”

Her eyebrows rise in surprise. “And you’re already working with Nathaniel? That’s a big deal.”

It strikes me then that everyone calls him Nathaniel—InkWell employees, Martin, Alice—but he gave me permission to call him Nate. Why?

“I guess so. We’ll see if I’m actually successful at it.”

She nods, and then her gaze sweeps across the store. “Well, let me know if I can help you shop for anything. You might be my only customer today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She doesn’t seem troubled. “These are the lean months, but it picks up a lot in the spring and summer. They’re talking about adding a festival in late fall that would help bring more people in that time of year as well.”

“And you do e-commerce on the side?” I ask, pointing to the book she was wrapping.

She looks down. “Yes, a lot here lately. Buyers are more interested than ever in collecting rare books, so that’s been good for business too. My grandmother built a really large antiquarian collection.”

I wonder if it’s all housed in the cases near the back or if that’s only part of it.

“Very cool. And do you live nearby?”

I’m curious how anyone does it here. Are they all living like Nate? Off the grid, chopping wood and stacking rocks for fun?

She points up with a lopsided smile, like she’s slightly embarrassed to reveal the answer. “Second-story apartment.”

No way.

“Does it smell like books up there?” I ask with unabashed wonder.

She laughs. “Oh yeah.”

I groan. “A dream! You’re living mydream!”

She blushes. “I mean, it’s good yeah, but it has its ups and downs. Not much in the way of a social life here.”

“Right. I can imagine that’s tough.”

“I go into Kendal a lot. I have a group of friends there. A guy I dated for a while.”

I can’t help but push the subject. “And Nathaniel?”

For some reason, I don’t want her to know I call him Nate. It feels…special. Which is dumb, and I refuse to hold up a magnifying glass to the feeling. Better to glaze over it altogether.

“Nathaniel is a friend, yeah. Insofar as he can be.” She scrunches her nose. “He’s quiet.”

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