His face fell. “I’ve spent thirty-five hours with Emily and I have another four days to go.”

Carmen raised her eyebrows.

“Professionally,” he mumbled into his hoodie. “Please. Could we go? Could you take me? Before she gets back.”

“Um, I can’t really shut the shop.”

“Fuck off,” came the voice. “I just trebled your week’s takings and you know it.”

“Yes, but . . .”

“Say I forced you into it.”

“Well, I would have to,” said Carmen. “Seeing as you’re trying to force me into it.”

He glanced up then. “Do you want me to go full Charming Blair?”

“Not particularly.”

“I will, you know. I’ve got low blood sugar, and if I don’t get out pretty soon I’m going to throw a tantrum. So let’s try this first.”

She narrowed her eyes at him as he drew himself upright, pulled down the hoodie, and shook back his hair. He leaned toward her and stared right into her eyes.

“It would be good and nourishing for the soul, underappreciated bookshop girl, if you were to let me take you out for lunch and add a little luster to this miserable gray day, and of course”—he grinned the grin—“it would be beyond my honor and pleasure to escort you and treat you.”

“Is that supposed to be charming?”

“It is fucking charming! Six million copies’ worth of charming!”

“I think it’s creepy.”

“It’s creepy, yes, okay, whatever. Please. Come on. Aren’t you hungry? I haven’t eaten for twenty hours.”

“Why not?”

“Calendar shoot.”

Carmen laughed aloud. “Seriously?”

“I know,” said Blair. “Oh well.”

He zipped his hoodie up again and gradually let himself drip back onto the table.

“Hang on—is the only way I can get you off my cash register going to lunch?”

“Uh-huh,” came the muffled voice.

“Oh, here comes Emily.”

Emily was clip-clopping up the road with a cardboard case full of coffee cups.

“Oh no! I’m trapped! Please don’t let me do local radio.”

“I love local radio!”

“Who cares? Come on, take me out the back way. Come on. Now. Let’s rush.”

He gave her a sarcastic flash of that ridiculous grin. Emily was getting closer, poring over her phone.

“Oh God, she’s going to tell me to do something extra. And I need some Dutch courage before the hospital. Come. Come. Please!”

He looked up at her then, and his brown eyes were yearning and sincere rather than attempting to be soulful.

“Oh God,” said Carmen.

At that point, looking bemused, Mr. McCredie bumbled into view. “Ah, Carmen—”

“Lunch break!” shouted Blair. “We’re just off for lunch break.” He bounced up from his prone position. “I’ll bring her back in an hour . . . ish.”

“A lunch break?” said Mr. McCredie, as if he’d said “A swim in an aquarium?”