Trying to brush the memories away, I pull my laptop toward me, the glow of the screen illuminating my dark living room as I navigate to BookFriends. RJ.Reads has added a new book to his Read shelf—an ARC I finished a month or so ago—but no rating or review yet.

BookshopGirl: Hey! I saw you read that new debut that’s getting all the buzz. What did you think??

His light turns green; he’s online. For the first time in hours, I smile.

RJ.Reads: Oh my god, so good. It made me cry. Four times.

BookshopGirl: Only four? I cried at least nine times.

RJ.Reads: Well, one cry session encompassed the last hundred pages.

I laugh, my shoulders relaxing. We don’t often like the same books—RJ tends to go for lighter fare than I do—so it’s extra fun when we find common ground.

Of course, it’s also fun when we argue.

BookshopGirl: So…what did you think about the structure?

RJ has a knack for identifying the structural reasons a story did or didn’t work: inciting incidents, plot points, dark moments, etc. This book bucked convention, but I thought it was effective.

RJ.Reads: It was unique, I’ve got to hand it to the author. But the pacing was a little slow to start.

BookshopGirl: What?? That first section was crucial to setting up the entire storyline! You’re just impatient.

RJ.Reads: It could of been streamlined.

RJ.Reads: *could have (sorry)

RJ.Reads: But my point still stands: the beginning was slow.

BookshopGirl: Fine, okay. What did you think about the ending?

The tension of the day releases as I relax into the familiar, comforting world of fiction.

I wish I could stay here forever.

6

Ryan

Plan a bunch of events, they said.

It’ll be easy, they said.

The last two weeks have been a flurry of emails and missed calls and conversations about budgets and community outreach and scheduling. Our store calendar looks more complicated than a treasure map—but if there’s any chance these events will lead to a chest of gold, then I have to be all in.

The first one starts in an hour: a Knitting and Knotting circle. Thirty-seven people RSVP’d to bring their knitting projects and discuss the Omegaverse, a subgenre of speculative romance with a caste system of characters, usually featuring werewolves.

My phone buzzes in my pocket—a DM from a friend from the RomSquad, my romance bookseller group.

Gretchen: I have a proposition for you.

Ryan: Before you go any further, you texted me. Ryan Lawson.

Gretchen: LOL. I know who I texted.

Gretchen: I’m not the one who keeps calling you Brian, Ryan.

Ryan: Touché. What can I do for you?

Gretchen: You mean what can I do for you?

Ryan: ???

Gretchen: Can I call you?

The second I send a thumbs-up, my phone rings.