"That I am tired of being useless." He watched as she went back to tidying the shelves the parade of customers had made a mess of while searching for and flipping through the titles. "And I know this is the last place you want to be. Any day now, you'regoing to return to the fancy corporate job you had in the city, and I will be left all by myself."
Tamping down the impatience and resentment his words stirred up, Kadian forced a smile on her lips as she continued to restock the books.
"I'm exactly where I want to be. The book Gerald ordered came by special delivery. We should give him a call."
"He's sweet on you."
She glanced over at him in surprise and felt the familiar ache in the pit of her stomach at how old he looked.
She tried not to let her concern show. The more her father noticed, the more stubborn he became. The bell above the door jingled, and for a fleeting moment, she hoped it was a distraction. Maybe Gerald himself, or anyone looking for an overdue mystery or a forgotten classic.
But it was only Mrs. Eddings from the bakery next door, a paper bag in hand and a smile scented with cinnamon.
"Morning, Kadian. Morning, Luke. Brought you some fresh rolls. Figured you could use a little sweetness."
Kadian accepted the bag with a grateful nod, letting the warmth curl between her fingers. "You're a lifesaver, Mrs. Eddings."
Her father harrumphed, not quite ready to be softened by anyone's kindness, but his eyes lingered on the bag. Kadian set it on the counter and busied herself with the register, pretending not to notice his longing glance.
As Mrs. Eddings perused the displays, Kadian's father settled onto the old stool behind the counter, his breath a little heavier than before. For a moment, the shop was quiet except for the rustle of pages and the distant hum of the city. Kadian's thoughts drifted to Leon, always Leon, wondering what he was doing, if he was as restless as she.
She shook her head and reached for the phone, determined to distract herself. "I'll call Gerald about his book," she said gently, dialing the familiar number as her father watched her with amixture of affection and resignation. In that small, sunlit shop, surrounded by stories, the ache in Kadian's chest eased, just a little.
He could not help but feel the tug of guilt. She had left her very lucrative job in New York to come home to take care of him and the store that had become his lifeline. It was certainly his livelihood. Bitterness as thick as gravy rose up inside him as the past came back to haunt him. He should have been in a better position, his life more fulfilled, except it had been derailed by a man whose greed was surpassed only by his arrogance. His one-time best friend, the spawn of Satan himself, a man who had traded friendship for money. And his own wife.
His gaze strayed from the book he was cataloguing to the woman who was his daughter. She was the spitting image of his Kathy, from the thick chestnut brown wealth of hair to the shape of the face and the uncanny ability to draw people to them with their dazzling smile.
Even now, a couple and a group of children were swarmed around her, listening to every word she spoke, their attention fixed on her face. If he felt even a smidgen of guilt for the fact that she had left a well-paid job and a career she liked to take care of him, it was ruthlessly tamped down. She owed it to him. After all, she was his flesh and blood, wasn't she? Setting asidethe book, he rose a little unsteadily and went around to the office.
The moment the door to the office clicked shut behind him, a wisp of silence filled the shop. Kadian's hand lingered on the phone, her thoughts tangled in the echo of her father's movements. She let her gaze wander through the tall windows, sunlight slanting across the rows of battered novels and glossy new arrivals, dust motes dancing in the golden shafts like memories refusing to settle.
Mrs. Eddings had finished her browsing and, with a cheery wave and another whiff of cinnamon, slipped out into the morning bustle, leaving behind the faintest trace of sweetness and the soft thud of the closing door. The small crowd of children spilled out with her, their laughter trailing behind like breadcrumbs, and quietude returned, gentle, expectant.
Kadian busied herself with the displays, restacking a precarious mound of mysteries and straightening the faded poster for next month's author visit. She paused, fingers brushing the edge of the counter, feeling the absence of her father as keenly as if a book had been plucked from a treasured shelf.
Somewhere in the back, the muted sound of a kettle rattled, an old habit of her father's, brewing tea when the world pressed intoo hard. She wondered if he would call for her, or if pride would leave him alone with his bitterness and his ghosts.
On impulse, she reached for a slip of paper and scribbled a note: "Fresh tea up front. Join me if you like." She left it on his desk, door barely ajar, her retreat as quiet as a secret.
Back in the shop, she poured two mugs, the steam curling into the sunlight. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine it was just another morning before illness and regret and secrets wedged themselves between them. She glanced at the worn clock above the door, then sat on the old velvet stool, the shop settling around her like an embrace.
Outside, the city moved on, indifferent and alive, but within these walls, it was still possible to believe that stories could change the ending, and that, just maybe, there were chapters left to write.
And her story, so complicated, so unexpected. She would never regret leaving New York to come back home. If she had not made the bold move, she would not have encountered a love that was so powerful, it weakened the knees. Lifting a hand, she brushed it against the shape of the diamond with the stunning clusters of sapphires. Her wedding ring, one she would not dare to wear in its rightful place. One that had been placed on her finger by theman she loved. Her husband. Nostalgia and bitterness flowed through her like a tidal wave. She was a married woman who was not free to make a home for her husband. And the unfairness of it was getting to her.
Putting aside the mug, she rose with a smile on her face to greet the out-of-towners streaming into the store. Her love of books made it easy to pretend that this was something she wanted to do with her life.
*****
Whitlock Enterprises corporate office was in the business district of a bustling township. With buildings spearing upwards, glasses glinting in the brilliant September sunshine, the entire area was a mecca of prosperity, historical structures renovated and still managed to maintain their original façade. The modern mixed in with the contemporary. An elegant gallery, one of Jackson Colby's contributions to the town. A Takahashi restaurant, trendy and stylish with Kelly Takahashi's trademark for excellent and chic, stamped on its trim brick exterior. Striped umbrellas, gaily decorated gazebos, the sound of water from the lake, meandering beneath the quaint wooden bridge.
In his office Leon could see all of it. From the lofty height of the fiftieth floor, he could imagine seeing his wife bent over a box ofbooks trying to sort titles. Shaking his head to dispel the image, he turned at the discreet knock. The door was pushed open and his assistant stepped in and closed it behind him firmly.
A smile touched his lips. It could not be helped. David Manning was impeccably dressed as usual, his pinstriped suit, well-tailored, the red in the stripe, echoing the nattily tied cloth around his throat. The shirt was a silk steel gray and there was a red carnation in the lapel. His chocolate brown skin was pampered, giving testament to his routine treatment and hours at the treatment salon. His hair was low cut and well groomed, the natural waves, framing a very striking face.
He was not just an employee and a damned good one at that, but he was also a friend and unapologetically gay. He was also fiercely loyal and discreet.
"You have a board meeting in ten minutes. Fortunately for you, I came back from the luncheon at just the right time." Mahogany brown eyes scanned his face critically. "Why not let it all out before you go?"
