But Annie had a job to get on with. Today she’d be doing it alongside the object of her affection. Saturday was usually the book shop’s busiest day and she hoped the customers would keep her occupied enough not to notice Kristin working, with her precise, economical, elegant movements, on the other side of the shop.

“How about a cup of coffee?” Kristin approached Annie. “You’ve been run off your feet all morning.”

“So have you.” Annie’s muscles stiffened. She hoped Jane wouldn’t choose this exact time to come downstairs. She’d been dreading the moment when her wife would pop into the shop, walk up to Kristin, and ask for a cappuccino. She was afraid of the kind of thoughts Jane might have had during the night—afraid she might have turned against her. Annie knew what this kind of information could do to a person. She’d been there. And when Jane had been in the clutches of infatuation with Beth, Annie had certainly considered turning her back on the whole thing—Jane included—and walking out.

“All the more reason to put our feet up for five minutes,” Kristin said. “Do you have time to sit with me for a few?”

“Sure.” Annie tried to sound calm, as if nothing had changed, yet she had to scrutinize every word she uttered. Did she acquiesce so easily because she was being polite? Or because she really wanted to sit across from Kristin and luxuriate in the sensation of it? She was too tired for all this turmoil in her head. She’d barely slept. A cup of coffee was exactly what she needed.

Annie followed Kristin and sat down. She tried not to steal a few furtive glances at Kristin while she was busy brewing their coffees, and wondered how on earth this was going to work. Telling Jane she was “practically over it” had been a lie. As she sat there, her brazenly foolish mind was audacious enough to focus on what Jane had said about the possibility of Annie’s feelings being mutual.

Annie shook the thought off as soon as Kristin presented her with a cup of coffee.

“That was quite a night,” Kristin said. “Imagine what it’ll be like when Caitlin and Josephine’s book comes out.”

“For the first time in Annie’s Book Shop’s history, we might have people lining up outside.” Annie smiled at the prospect, while keeping a keen eye on the door to their private stairway in case Jane walked in. Now that she wasn’t writing, she spent more time in the shop. Annie sipped from her coffee and hoped everything could go back to normal soon and she wouldn’t have to feel so guilty and strangely—inappropriately—elated at the same time.