Sunny watches me with an indecipherable look, then sighs. “Nova, you’ve never read the book. It still has new stickers on it.”
“At least it didn’t have book lice,” I grumble.
“This is the twentieth customer you did this to today, do you want to sell your books or not?”
I’m grateful for Sunny always keeping it real with me. She took a day off from work to help me out today and I shouldn’t be rude, but I can’t help myself when she’s like this. No one understands books the way I do. You don’t need to read words to feel connected to them. Their presence, the familiarity of soft covers and hard covers are all I need to survive. They’re built, crafted, each page meticulously morphed together. Yes, reading gives me an annoying migraine but the senses of reading are all there as I flip pages.
Pretending I can read is reading too.
The world loves hurting imagination.
“I can’t sell them, Sunny.” The ones I’ve parted with are gone, but no more. “They mean too much to me.”
“This is why I said you couldn’t do this,” she takes the seat next to me. Her hand squeezing my thigh. “You have an attachment to them, which is fine. It’s just that I know you won’t be able to make up the money you need from this book sale. Maybe instead I can put up posters for a floral workshop? I’ve seen people interested in it.”
“I posted it on my social media a while ago,” I respond. “Threepeople have signed up so far.”
“That’s great!” Sunny exclaims with fake optimism. She is not about positivity at all. “They can post it on their social media and maybe you’ll blow up.”
Giving her a deadpan look, “They’re all over sixty.”
“It’s better than having no customers, Nova.”
I shrug a careless shoulder, “I guess. Should we tidy up?”
The piles of books stare at me from their set up. After five hours into the sale and selling twenty books, I lost each battle.
Guess this is my sign to find a part-time job. Which will be hard since Ontario’s job market is actual crap. There was a time when Tim Hortons hired people despite their lack of experience, now even people with a Bachelor’s degree can’t get a job there.
Thanks a lot, Ms. Cartwright. You had to sue me just when the economy hates us.
I go inside to pack up the other large number of books we carried from the apartment, while Sunny goes to the bathroom.
I’m placing books in boxes when I see the leggy brunette standing in front of the book stall. She looks out of place. Not in a bad way, but in a too-good-of-a-way. Thick, expensive sunglasses cover her eyes. Her dark brown hair swishes in the humid day. Fresh nails skimming over the books.
“Hey,” the bell above the door jingles when I open it. “We’re no longer selling books. I’m sorry.”
She slowly lifts her head to look at me and I’m blinded.
“You’re Nova, right?” Her smile relishes in the sun, beaming at me wide and bright. She takes her sunglasses off and struts towards me with an extended hand. “I’m Irene Dolores.”
Where have I heard that name before?
Tentatively, I take her hand. She doesn’t look like a scammer, Idon’t think. “Do I know you?”
She laughs and it sounds rich. Like caramel or a bag of a thousand dollars incash. “Maybe. I’m the producer ofLove? Check!the dating show. You may have heard of it.”
Oh. My. Gosh.
Of course, I’ve heard of it. That show has been my guilty pleasure for the past two summers. Every year, a group of six to ten people go somewhere in the world and get to check off each other’s bucket list. It’s usually paired off as a date and the couple with the most global votes wins the show. Last year, Liana and Malachi won $300,000 USD. It’s been a year and they haven’t broken up, which makes me believe that some form of love exists for people that look for it.
“From the look on your face, you’ve heard of it.” Irene Dolores is standing in front of me. The woman who made all of this happen. Not only that, but her father—Tristan is a global billionaire. He set up multiple television companies, has his own app, and goes around the world to open charities to help people. He’s an entrepreneurialGod.
And this is his daughter. Without his help, she managed to start her own television company withLove? Check!and many other reality shows that have hit records all over the world. She has fifty million followers on Headshot and she’s on Forpes’ 40 under 40.
“I’m having a hard time believing you’re here right now.”
It didn’t rain much, but the sun peeks through the dark clouds. Illuminating light on the gloomy street.
