It was out of the question for Jane to wear the same old tracksuit pants she’d been holding on to for years—it was hard to get rid of a pair of pants you’d written a couple of successful books in—when she went downstairs these days. She even had to put on a bra. Before the Pink Bean, days used to go by when Jane didn’t wear a bra. Days when she didn’t feel any need to venture out but was perfectly content with the company of her words and her wife. A quick—bra-less—stop in the shop was enough to remind her of the outside world.

Jane sighed and went into the bathroom. Should she shower? It was part of her ritual to not shower before she had gotten in her word count of the day, and if she did, she was pretty sure no more words would be added to that wretched book today. So she just slipped into a pair of jeans, put on a bra, and drew over a blouse. She pulled her fingers through her hair and gave herself a reluctant thumbs-up in the mirror. Because, granted, those coffees Mia prepared were not half bad. She could do with one of those right about now. Maybe it would jolt her brain into the kind of alertness needed to finally finish that bloody sentence. Because it was that very sentence holding her back. If only she could get past it, this squandering of precious minutes, staring at her screen and not producing, could end. It was worth a go. One of Mia’s coffees. A quick chat and kiss from her wife, and Jane would get back to it.

She dashed downstairs with a spring in her step, convinced she’d be running back up in about ten minutes, filled to the brim with inspiration.

When she arrived in the shop, Annie was handing a customer a book. Jane couldn’t see which one it was because it was wrapped in a paper bag. She dearly hoped it wasn’t one of hers, which was a completely counterintuitive thought to have, because of course she wanted to sell books, she just preferred not to witness the sale.

Mia was sitting at a table with Kristin, who always looked like she’d just stepped out of the pages of a glossy magazine. How was that even possible? Jane watched Annie as her gaze followed the customer leaving the shop. Annie’s gaze then landed on Kristin and Mia. Was she thinking the same thing about Kristin? Jane suddenly felt too shabbily dressed to walk into the very book shop she co-owned. Oh, sod it, Kristin had been in here plenty of times when Jane had been dressed like this—she had even put on a blouse—and it wasn’t as if Annie’s Book Shop had suddenly developed a strict dress code.