But then Rinn thought about the way that Daniella had hidden such a huge secret from all of them. Had kept them from knowing that this place was going under. Had protected Eli after he’d screwed over the whole store in one night.

Would she even believe Rinn if Rinn told her about why Rinn suspected Archer Hunt Junior of sabotaging the store?

The only space Rinn felt like she had a place in this world would be gone. She could get another job, sure. But this was Wild Nights Bookstore and Emporium. The first place she’d found a copy of When We Were Us. Where Rinn had learned how to deal with difficult customers and that there was more than one way to catalog a collection. It also happened to be the only place she got to interact with AJ.

And when it was all said and done, the store was probably going to turn into something depressingly practical like a parking lot.

Was it all because Archer Hunt Junior wanted to sell his land and get out from under his father’s will? Or was there another reason, a reason Rinn couldn’t see? She couldn’t take her assumptions and run with them. She had to find facts or proof before she went around accusing the owner of Wild Nights of trying to legally undercut and profit from his inheritance.

What a disaster.

Rinn put down one of the chairs in her hand. At least the seating arrangements were almost done for the Brock Harvey event. It was probably going to be the last bookstore event she ever worked.

Rinn had met so many authors in this space. Learned that authors were people she could meet and interact with. Daniella and her stupid disdain and her need to always, always put people down. Rinn continued to ignore Daniella as she set up chairs on the other side of the event space.

These events were one of the most magical parts of the job. That the people who made the stories she loved to read were actual real-live people—people Rinn had had the pleasure and the privilege to interact with. It was part of what had made books come alive. There was a person who wrote a book. There were people who read books. There were spaces where those two people could meet—sometimes online, but also, in these special, sacred spaces called bookstores. Because that’s what it was, really, Wild Nights Bookstore and Emporium—a place where magic could happen.

Rinn picked up another chair from the stack and started moving it toward the end of a back row. She almost had the line finished now.