He sighed in frustration. All this work, and it could be completely for nothing. He had no guarantee there would even be anything useful in the damn book. His ancestors had let it out of their control. It may be an interesting, but not particularly useful, diary. He hoped all of this hassle would be worth it.

On that thought, he looked up…and in breezed Lizzie, all light and sunshine. She looked like a kid turned loose at Disneyland, pink-cheeked and glowy-eyed.

He stood, lifting his hand to catch her attention. Damn it. He still hadn’t decided when he’d tell her. But not now. Later.

Lizzie spotted John right as she entered. She returned his wave with a bright, wide smile, and headed his way. After John returned with her drink order—he wouldn’t accept her polite refusal—Lizzie jumped right in.

She pulled the book out of her large purse. “Maybe you’d like to have a look?”

John was sure this was some kind of test. He mentally shrugged. Since he didn’t plan to pick it up and run out the door, he figured he’d pass the test.

“It’s not nearly as old as I imagined.” He ran his hand across the worn leather. ”I suppose aging and wear are diminished in some way.” He was speaking more to himself than to her.

He flipped it open to the first page. Nothing. But then, that’s what he’d expected.

“And?” Lizzie was looking expectantly at him.

He just smiled. “I told you I couldn’t read it. That’s what I need you for.”

She looked disappointed. “It just showed up one day. In my mailbox.”

John waited.

“I can see there’s writing, but I can’t make it out.” Lizzie looked around and saw no one was near. Then she leaned a little over the table, closer to John. She waited impatiently for him to do the same. He smiled a little, but complied. When she continued, her voice was pitched low. “That’s why I decided magic was involved. If the pages had just been blank…well, there’d be no mystery other than who sent me a blank journal. So—how am I supposed to read it when I very clearly can’t read it?”

John’s slight smile turned to a broad grin. “You know, you’d make a terrible spy.”

“What?” She looked around furtively again. “There’s not anyone close enough to hear. What’s the problem?” She wrinkled her nose up. “You’re completely laughing at me—not with me—aren’t you?”

He laughed out loud. “Yes, I completely am.”

“Okay. I’ll try to be a little more subtle. But you can stop laughing now.” Lizzie was starting to laugh a little herself. Thankfully, otherwise John would be worried he’d pissed her off again.

This meeting was going much better than the last. When he stopped to consider why, he realized it was him. He was relaxed, comfortable. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he had been a bit of an ass the previous day. He’d focused too much on the book and not enough on Lizzie.