Olivia
Yes. At two a.m. this morning. If you don’t commit it to memory, my sacrifice of sleep will all be in vain.
Lachlan
If I understand this right, I shouldn’t give an interview in Klingon or the voice of my favorite alien?
Olivia
Jokes about media training, your brand development, or speaking engagements are no longer allowed. Keep them to yourself. I give them zero stars.
Lachlan
Want to talk about why you were awake at two a.m.? Did thoughts of me keep you up?
Olivia
They did not. I was thinking about work.
Lachlan
You keep telling yourself that, Livvy.
Olivia
*eye roll* I guess I should thank you for the flowers you sent to work today. Brilliant idea. Just one more detail that convinces the world we’re a real couple.
Lachlan
…Who says that’s why I sent them?
By Monday,my stress levels could best be described as seismic. We weren’t talking little tremors, but the kind of energy that could bring an entire town to rubble.
All weekend, I’d done nothing but make Lachlan eat, breathe, and sleep media training. All of this put me in Lachlan’s space nonstop.
Which gavemethoughts nonstop.
Between wishing Lachlan would kiss me senseless again and responding to Celeste’s persistent reminders that we needed to speed up his progress, I was about two tectonic shifts away from catastrophe.
When Rosie let me know tonight was a read-in at the bookstore, I shut my laptop, grabbed a book, and headed to the Lost Story. Did I have time to sit for a few hours and lose myself in a romance novel? No, I did not. But would it make me feel better and push the release valve on some of this pressurized stress? I certainly hoped so.
“Here’s the newlywed!” Sylvie called as I stepped inside the shop.
There was already quite a crowd, especially for the event’s maiden voyage. Fellow readers, mostly women who looked about as harried as I felt, sat in chairs, couches, and in cozy corners on the floor. Some had even brought blankets and their own beverages.
These were my people.
Spying Hattie quietly chatting to a group that included my grandmother, aunt, and Rosie, I made my way toward the mystery section where they loitered.
Rosie hugged me tightly, her face as happy as I’d seen it in months. “Can you believe all these people?”
Sylvie, an extrovert if there ever was one, gawked about. “Who knew folks would want to be alone—together?”
“I did,” Rosie said. “How heavenly is it to just be with fellow book people, sit and read in the quiet, andnottalk?”
“We can’t talk?” Frannie shot Sylvie a look. “You didn’t mention that part.”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t get in the car if I did,” Sylvie said.
