“Can I help you?” he asked, pushing up his glasses with one finger in a manner that reminded her of Clark Kent.
After knocking over the display and everything, she felt she’d better buy something. She handed him the nearest thing: a bright pink Play Princess! magazine from a rack.
“Who is this for?” The magazine opened in his hand, revealing a vertical poster of a princess riding a sparkly unicorn. “Ooh, check out that centerfold.”
“I only read it for the articles,” said Josie.
“Can’t I get something for you?” he asked. “Everyone needs to escape into a book, and I’m guessing it’s been a while for you.”
“How did you know?”
He smiled and shrugged. “I’m a professional.”
Josie raised her eyebrow—he looked no older than college age, so she assumed he was a part-time, minimum-wage worker.
“I was practically raised in bookstores,” he clarified. “And if I know anything, it’s that you’re never too old to develop your imagination.” He gestured grandly to a poster on a bookcase end: DEVELOP YOUR IMAGINATION: READ!
Josie laughed. “Okay, give me something light and fun that doesn’t force me to think.”
“You got it.”
He scanned a bookshelf and pulled out a paperback. Josie was relieved it wasn’t a hardcover. It would be so awkward to explain that it was too expensive for her. She had Victoria’s credit card for grocery purchases and such, so she gave him that for the princess magazine, but she used her debit card for herself.
DEBT. DEBT. DEBT. The words clanged in her skull. I’m not ready for knee-shaking, life-altering debt. I’m still a teenager! She had to get ahold of the bank ASAP.
Josie took the paperback from the bookseller. The title, The Highwayman Came Riding, was emblazoned in white, curly font across a cover in heavy greens, pinks, and golds. A pale blond woman in clothing from some previous century was swooning in the arms of a tanned man with a hard, chiseled, hairless chest. Her dress was slipping off her shoulders, and her breasts—just too large and too wild to be constrained by clothing—appeared to be fighting for the nearest exit. Josie blushed, wondering what about her made the bookseller think that this was the book for her.
She turned it to read the back cover. The words looked tiny, blurry. Had that copy of Acute Love Triangle hit her harder than she’d thought? She held the book back at arm’s length and the words crisped up a little.
“What’s the matter with me?” she muttered.
“Are you fairly new to Montana?” he asked. “Did you move from sea level?”
“Yes…” Josie squinted at him. “How did you know?”
“Just guessing. Here, try these.” He handed her a pair of reading glasses from a drawer behind the counter.
She almost laughed and put them on just to humor him, but as soon as she did, she could clearly read the back cover. She gasped and took them off. The text was blurry again.
“I know, you’re too young for reading glasses,” he said. “You’ve never worn them before. Only grannies need them. I hear it all the time.”
“You do?”
“From people whose eyes haven’t adjusted to the high altitude yet. Usually it only affects them in the mornings and then goes away. You can keep the glasses. They were a free sample a supplier sent us.”
Great, so his estimation of her was broke, granny-eyed, and likely to swoon in the arms of bare-chested men.
She stuffed the glasses into her purse.
“You don’t have to take them off on my account,” he said. “Glasses are, you know, sexy…”
By his tone, he might have been saying, How about this weather we’re having?, so it took her a moment of squinting at him before she realized that he was flirting. Maybe?
“Um … that’s okay,” she said.
“Ooh, that’s a good book,” said another red-aproned book clerk, eyeing Josie’s purchase. She was blond, but unlike the Trophy Wives, her skin seemed to have never seen the sun: not real, fake, or sprayed on. She wore smart-girl glasses, like a ridiculously gorgeous starlet in a movie trying and failing to look nerdy. “Seriously, don’t save that one for a rainy day; dive in now. You’ll thank me later.”
She winked.
“Okay…,” said Josie.
The blond book clerk wrapped the other bookseller’s arms around her waist and leaned back against his chest. “Have you read that one yet?” she asked him.
“No, but if she does, I promise I will too.” He smiled shyly at Josie and stepped away from Blondie. “This is my sister, Bianca. The bookstore’s a family business.”
“The family that works together stays together,” said Bianca.
“I’m Deo, by the way,” he said. “D-E-O.”
“Did you know your name is Greek?” Josie said and then immediately wished she hadn’t. Trying to teach someone about their own name was just pathetic.
“Is it? Hey, will you come back and tell me what you think about the book?” asked Deo. “I’ve heard from other customers that it’s super engrossing, and I’d love your feedback.”
He smiled at her again. And her pulse snapped in her throat.
She’d been so isolated since coming to Montana, passing most of each day alone in the condo, even when Mia was at preschool. It had been a while since she’d felt so seen.
A tiny, melancholy voice inside warned her she was unworthy of human attention. Josie broke eye contact first.
Mia ran up. “Mommy! That boy took the train I was playing with.”
Josie laughed nervously, glancing at Deo. “I’m not your mommy, Mia.”
Mia snorted in frustration at her mistake. “Josie! That boy stole my train!”
Josie smiled at Deo and Bianca. “I’m really not her mommy. Her mom. She just says it wrong sometimes. She’s my, um, charge. Or ward. Or … I’m her nanny. Is what I’m trying to say. Not my kid. I’m single or whatever.”
“Kids,” said Deo with a head shake and a grin.
“Totally. Kids,” said Josie.
Josie grabbed Mia and hurried out before there was any more awkward flirting or penetrating looks from dazzlingly blond sisters.
Deo called after her, “Come back soon!”
CHAPTER 3
They were heading toward the park, Mia staring in wonder at Play Princess!, when Josie’s cell sang out the ringtone: “All That Jazz.” Josie answered the video call, and Nina’s face appeared on her screen. She had a long, angular face, her cheeks warm as if used to the sun, and one side of her hair was shaved away, the long ends dyed a vibrant purple.
“Wow,” said Josie.
“You like?” said Nina, patting her hair. “I’m on my way to choir and only have five seconds but I wanted to show you.”
“Love the hair. But I just got a pair of reading glasses, Nina. Reading glasses.”
“Uh-huh,” said Nina, distracted.
“I repeat, reading glasses.”
Nina’s gaze snapped back to her phone’s camera. “Oh, wait, what? That doesn’t seem right.”
“I know! Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”