The image makes me smile, though it’s bittersweet. Jasmine’s the one who originally recommended the Candy Buttons graphic novel series to me. When I happened to catch this guy asking Beth for a recommendation for his daughter who’s not a big reader, I had to swoop in and suggest graphic novels might do the trick. And, of course, I had to make some suggestions when he asked. Candy Buttons was a natural choice, since I’d already suggested Beth buy it for the tiny section that was almost entirely (the excellent but far more obvious) Raina Telgemeier and Lumberjanes. I mentioned a few more of Jasmine’s favorites as well, which Beth ordered for him on the spot. I couldn’t believe either of them had trusted me so readily, but here was proof I knew what I was talking about.

Or at least Jasmine did.

“We definitely have the second book here,” I assure him, “and I’m sure Beth will be happy to special order the third. It comes out next week.”

“I’ll go ask her right now, thank you.”

I expect him to walk away, but he doesn’t, and I realize he might actually want some coffee. “Did you want a drink too?”

“No, I just … really wanted to thank you. I’m never the hero with gifts for her. I always manage to fu—uh, screw it up. This is the first time I’ve ever nailed it, and it’s a big deal. So … yeah. Thank you.”

It’s a good thing I’m definitely not tearing up because the room is already somehow getting blurry. “You are very, very welcome,” I say, and God, I hate that I can’t tell Jasmine. Her secret mushball heart would melt. “I have plenty more recommendations when you run out.”

“You’re wasting your time behind this counter,” he says. “You should be in sales.”

Well, there’s no great way to admit I lost that position when my mom made me bail, and now I have to watch this random college kid named Greg suck at it. He literally goes entire days without recommending a single author who isn’t an old white guy. I’d tell Beth how much he sucks, but I’m pretty sure she knows, and it makes me feel bad. She must’ve been really desperate to have hired him. “Feel free to tell Beth I deserve a raise,” I say instead. He laughs as he leaves, but somehow, I think he’ll do it.