Three days later,I stood outside the century-old doors of the Lost Story Bookshop, needing a moment to catch my breath.
Tonight was the soft opening celebration of Rosie’s store, kicked off with a formal party before exclusively invited guests were allowed to shop.
Outside the stars sparkled in the clear sky and a full moon hung over the downtown store, as if the celestials gave their blessing for my sister’s new venture. I’d say it was her new professional venture, but it was her entire life Rosie had relaunched with the shop.
I rubbed my arms in the chilled evening air. The sleeveless, shimmery black dress hugged my curves and showed off my fading summer tan, but a practical jacket would’ve felt better. I’d been running hot ever since Lachlan had burst back into my life, and I did not know what to do about that.
I’d thought about Lachlan all weekend.
I’d also thought about the fact that I’dthoughtabout Lachlan all weekend. It was unsettling to know I picked up my phone more than I should, hoping for a flirty text or some silly meme he’d created just for me. I found myself missing him in the evenings.
While getting ready, I’d borrowed some toothpaste from his bathroom. And yes, maybe I’d lingered in there and cataloged his Dungeons & Dragons toothbrush, the brand of shampoo resting on a shelf in his walk-in shower, and the interesting cotton robe that hung on the back of the bathroom door.
And since I was already trespassing, I’d also taken a tour of Lachlan’s closet, running my hands over his t-shirts and hoodies, oddly calmed by the Lachlan scent of his clothes.
Even the mornings had been oddly still. I’d made my own coffee, and it hadn’t compared to the brew Lachlan whipped up whenever I joined him in the kitchen. I told myself I truly didn’t miss him—that I was simply a bundle of nerves because he was out of my sight amid his PR training. Several days on his own in California could lead to all sorts of blunders without me nearby.
Yes. That was surely the anxious, melancholy feeling I’d experienced. Lachlan was my client, after all, and it was hard to track the man when he was on the other side of the country.
A scatter of leaves danced across my heels, jarring me back to the here and now. It was time to focus on Rosie and the bookshop.
The door creaked as I opened it, and when I stepped inside, I knew I’d just walked into a future memory.
Tears pricked my eyes as a mingled fragrance hung in the air, the scents of new paint, spiced cider, and hardbound leather.
“Olivia, finally you’re here.” Walking my way, Rosie smoothed her hands over her little black dress, as she tearfully glanced about her store. “Can you tell I’m sweating right through my extra-strength deodorant?”
I sniffed near her. “I only smell success and happiness. I’m so proud of you.”
Rosie stepped back and swiped the moisture from her cheeks. “I owe you big for all the work you’ve done—the painting, the unboxing, and the million and one marketing tasks I could never have handled or even thought of.”
“That’s my job.”
“You’re very good at it.”
If only Celeste agreed enough to promote me.
“Yoohoo, sugars! Don’t start this celebration without your dear grandmother.” Holding a wineglass in the air, Sylvie cha-cha’d her way toward us. My grandmother wore a sleek, black, figure-accentuating pantsuit with bold golden jewelry and electric red heels. Frannie, on the other hand, always took a more casual approach.
“Is that a new wig?” I asked Aunt Frannie. The woman had apparently been quite the expert in disguises back in day, and she still had a small obsession with alternative hair.
“Girl, yes.” With her glittery manicure she patted her latest acquisition. “It’s inspired by that singer Lizzo. What do you think?”
Rosie and I took in the whole picture—from Frannie’s long black locks to her fuchsia sequined dress, right down to her…Birkenstocks. The woman loved her creature comforts.
“You look like a Hollywood starlet.” I kissed Frannie’s rouged cheek. “Adore the whole vibe.” I knew her sweetie Ernie probably did too.
“Sorry I’m late!” Our oldest sister Hattie slipped inside, holding Miller’s hand. Love looked good on Hattie, and I was happy to see her settled and content. My two sisters and I had put a lot of work into Rosie’s shop, bringing us closer than ever. Our brother, Colin, had chipped in some capital, and while his international work made it impossible for him to be present, he promised to visit soon. The Lost Story Bookshop was a family affair, and it felt right that we’d all worked together to make it happen.
Rosie grabbed a glass of bubbly and waved everyone toward her. “Get your champagne and gather round!” Her eyes did a thorough sweep of the store and its guests, as if she was memorizing every detail to jot down later tonight. “I asked you all here early because I wanted a few minutes alone with my favorite people. It’s taken so much to bring the store to life, and sometimes I doubted we’d get here. And I wouldn’t have were it not for my family. You’ve annoyed me, you’ve helped me, and you’ve made my dream possible. I know Chase would have loved the Lost Story, and I can almost feel him here tonight.” She paused as we all nodded in unison. “The Lost Story isn’t just my story, but it’s yours as well. This is a place of dreams and hopes that go beyond the walls and pages of the books. Thank you for makingmydream come true. I pray each of you finds your heart’s desire as well.” With tears free-falling down her cheeks, Rosie raised her glass. “To the Lost Story Bookshop.”
I held up my own glass. “To Lost Story!” The first taste of champagne had just passed my lips when I caught sight of my aunt’s face. “Frannie, you okay?”
She fanned herself as her mouth formed a silent O. “Holy stud muffins,” she said. “I think a romance cover model just walked in.”
Sylvie tossed back her drink and stood on tiptoe to get a better look. “Good heavens. Who is that delicious dish?”
“The star of my dreams tonight,” Frannie told her.
