“Do you need me to do anything?” Jane asked. She had taken her writerly rest seriously and was spending much less time in her office and more in the shop.

“Just be there.” Annie took her wife’s hand and squeezed it. “Caitlin James and Jane Quinn in our shop together. Lesbians and feminists alike will be flocking to its doors.”

Jane would be there. She’d prepare herself a nice big gin and tonic before heading down, but she would do her duty. She even looked forward to it a little.

Caitlin read aloud with the sort of confidence a person can only be born with. Jane refused to berate herself for her lack of it because this sort of bravado was simply not part of her genetic material.

This didn’t mean she didn’t feel a tiny flicker of envy every time the crowd laughed as if on cue. The envy also flickered every time Caitlin paused, looked at her audience with a smile many of the women present would probably end up dreaming of later in bed, and held them all effortlessly in the palm of her hand.

Jane glanced at the crowd, which was almost spilling outside the door—their small book shop not big enough to accommodate the many Caitlin James fans. Jane hoped at least some of them would end up buying books, if not now, then perhaps in the near future.

She looked at Caitlin’s partner Josephine Greenwood, whom she’d only been introduced to tonight. She stood there beaming as she watched Caitlin perform. Because this was a performance. What Caitlin was doing up there—putting on a show—took talent and guts and practice.

The crowd burst out into a raucous round of applause and snapped Jane out of her reverie. She quickly took position behind the counter to help Annie with any purchases and to take note of preorders for Caitlin and Josephine’s upcoming book. If tonight was anything to go by, that book launch should be a great success for all parties involved—Annie’s Book Shop included.

“I love your Broken Hearts series,” Josephine said, her eyes glistening, her words slightly slurred. “I was so sorry I couldn’t make it to the signing. Was that really the last book in the series?”

Jane chuckled. If she had a dollar for every time someone asked her that question. She nodded. Josephine didn’t look as though she was expecting Jane to actually give her an answer, and even if she did, it probably wouldn’t register fully in Josephine’s inebriated brain.

“What are you working on now?” Josephine didn’t let up with the questions. Unfortunately, this one required a bit more than a yes-or-no answer.

“I’m taking a little break at the moment.” Jane remembered the relief she had felt when she’d pulled the plug on her last attempt at a book.