Thalia choked on her ice cream, but she quickly recovered. “You remember that?”
“Surprised that I don’t have the memory of a goldfish?”
“Surprised that you’d care to remember at all.”
That’s the funny thing about her, though. My braid had a knack of collecting Thalia related information and storing them in a special box. It’s not just her favorite ice cream. I know which of the Real Housewives franchises is her favorite, even though I have rarely seen her watch it. I also know that she likes to read the last page of a novel, the middle page and the first page, before purchasing it. I know that she hates being in a crowded elevator, even though she’s never said it out loud. Just a few things from the esoteric knowledge bank of Thalia Hawthorne.
“We’ve known each other for a long time,” I said a little casually than was true to how I actually felt. “It’s only natural I retain some information about you.”
She nodded as though this answer satisfied her. We slurped on our ice cream in silence and at some point, she took out her phone, placed it on the table, and started browsing. I was fine just looking at her. Her beauty was mesmerizing. Her curls fell to her forehead and my hand itched to brush them away. I was seconds away to leaning over the table and do just that when she looked up from her phone smiling. That feeling of being caught came again. I blurted the first thing that came to mind, “You seem oddly happy.”
“F.H. Kilpatrick’s novel just came out! Well, it came out a few weeks ago, and I hadn’t seen the alert. Of course, you wouldn’t know or care, but it’s really great news!”
I knew. Another factoid from the Thalia knowledge bank was that she read a lot of historical fiction, and F.H. Kilpatrick, one of her favorite authors, hadn’t released a book in a long while.
“We can go to the local bookstore and check if they have it.”
Her eyes brightened. “Can we!”
I was surprised how full the bookstore was when we entered. There was a small queue at the counter and I noticed everyone had one specific book in hand. An F.H. Kilpatrick. “I had noidea she was this famous,” I muttered more to myself, but Thalia heard me. “Of course you wouldn’t,” she said, making a beeline towards a table marked 'new releases.' “The last time you read a book that had nothing to do with law was in college.” I was about to rebut the statement until I realized she was right.
I followed her towards the new releases table as she was moving a bit faster than I thought she would until I saw why. There were four other people also making for the table and there were four books left. Thalia was a little slower, and she reached it just as the last copy was snatched by a middle-aged man.
“Oh, man.” Her shoulders slumped.
“Was that the last copy?” My unhelpful question surprisingly got an answer from a bookstore clerk standing beside the table. “That was the last of our stock, I am afraid,” the mousy teenage-looking girl said. “You might want to try Barnes and Noble.”
“Sold out there too,” an elderly woman who materialized behind us said.
Thalia’s face fell. Seeing her happiness shattered in a matter of seconds was a gut punch. I mean, if she’s happy, then she will not mess up the deal with the Bardwells. I looked around and saw a young woman who looked to be in her twenties walking past us with three books in her hand. Two had pastel covers, and the third had the familiar red and black cover of the F.H. Kilpatrick book. "Excuse me," I said to her. "How much are you willing to trade for that?"
The woman looked at me, dumbfounded. "I will pay you double the price of the book if you give it to me." She clutched the copy to her chest, surprised.
"Carey…" I heard Thalia say beside me.
"Triple?" I took out my wallet and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and a fifty. "Quadruple?" The girl stared at the money, then, as though coming out of a trance, balanced her books that were about to slip out of her hold. "Is that real?"
"You can have the cashier check it for you if you doubt me."
I felt Thalia tug at the corner of my shirt. "Carey, I am sure there are other bookstores…"
The girl glanced at Thalia, then grabbed the cash and handed me the book. I gave the book to Thalia. "There you go."
"I shouldn't. What about her?" she gestured at the girl.
The girl shrugged. "It's more than a fair trade."
"See?" I handed Thalia the book again, and she reluctantly took it. "Thanks," she said to the young woman, but she was already on her way to the counter. Thalia brushed the cover, holding the copy as though it's a fragile egg. She darted her gaze around the store, and then back at me as though embarrassed. "You didn't have to."
"You wanted it, so there you go." Thalia smiled and I hated how my heart swelled just because her mouth turned upwards over something I did. Clearing my thought, I thrust my wallet back into my pocket. "Is there anything else you want?" She shook her head.
Chapter 31
Thalia
I WAS STILLstumped by Carey's gesture of buying me a book, no matter the cost, when we stumbled into Mae and Arther as soon as we got out of the bookstore. Mae had a wide beamed sun hat and Arther had a bag full of fishing tackle in his hands.
"I hear you have a boat," Arther said to us, but he was more so speaking to Carey than me.
