Сьюзен Виггз - The Lost and Found Bookshop

Natalie recognized her mom’s tone. She tended to get fluttery when a new guy came around. “What? You’re going out with him?”

“Sure.” Mom leaned toward the hall mirror and fluffed her hair. “As soon as I put on my lipsicle.” She winked and took out a tube and turned her mouth into a red oval.

“ Mo-o-om. ” Natalie turned the word into an elongated complaint.

“Don’t worry. I probably won’t keep him long.”

* * *

“Close your eyes and hold still,” said Shelly the stylist, tilting Natalie’s face up to the light. “I’m going to give you a tiny bit of eyeliner, just for definition.”

Natalie shut her eyes. As her mother had predicted, the poet hadn’t lasted long, but she had kept the hoops. When Shelly finished her primping, Natalie couldn’t help grinning at the image in the mirror. “Wow, you’re good,” she said.

“I’m just gilding the lily here,” said Shelly. “Let’s go downstairs. They’re probably ready for you.”

The camera crew had arranged a cozy seating area in front of the floor-to-ceiling shelves. The dramatic lighting highlighted the rolling library ladder and fretwork on the antique oak. Even Sylvia the cat made an appearance, padding around and sniffing things.

“My heart just skipped a beat,” Trevor said when Natalie stepped into the light. “I mean, you’re always gorgeous, but—”

There was a knock at the door. She looked over and saw Peach. What was he doing here after hours? She hurried to let him in. “Hey,” she said. “Come on in.”

“Forgot my stud finder,” he said.

She stepped aside. “Find away. We’re doing a spot for the book signing this weekend.”

He gave her a long look, his gaze warm as he took in her fancy hair and makeup. “Yeah?” he said. “You look—”

“Hey, man, good to see you again.” Trevor Dashwood stuck out his hand.

Peach shook it. “My daughter is looking forward to your book signing.”

“Can’t wait to meet her. Dorothy, right?”

The tension between the two guys was palpable. Natalie couldn’t see it, but she sensed it, two bucks circling, about to lock horns. Then Peach took a step back. “Okay, then. I’ll just grab my stuff and be out of your way. Good luck with your . . .” He gestured at the lighted seating area. “See you around.”

* * *

Everyone said the article and companion webcast came out great. Natalie took their word for it because she was too bashful to actually watch herself on video. Besides, there was no time. The day of the event was a whirlwind as she shuttled between the shop and the auditorium, attending to last-minute details. She was a ball of nervous excitement.

The one dim spot was that her grandfather was feeling ill—again—and he was going to miss the festivities. The doctors still couldn’t figure out why he kept losing weight and had trouble breathing.

As the hour approached, Natalie worked with Bertie and Cleo, setting up the cash register in the vestibule. They could see people gathering outside. It was a rare, glorious afternoon, the sun turning everything a rich golden hue. “It’s happening,” she said. “I feel as though I’m in a dream.”

“And I hear you’ve got a date with Mr. Darcy afterward,” said Cleo. “Rendez-Vous?” She fanned herself.

“It’s not . . . I don’t know what it is,” Natalie said. “I barely know the guy.”

“That’s why it’s a date,” Cleo said. “So you can get to know him.”

“Just be safe,” Bertie said. “Promise.”

“Safe?” Natalie rounded on him. “Have you heard something?”

Bertie shook his head. “Not a thing. He’s a celebrity, so . . .” He shrugged. “There’s almost no information other than the material in his bio. And that stuff looks so . . . curated.”

“He grew up off the grid,” Natalie said. “I bet his parents are freaks about privacy. He’s fine, Bertie. You worry too much. But he’s not—I just don’t see us together. I mean, the guy’s one of the bestselling writers in the world.”

“And you’re the best bookseller in the world, and you should totally date him,” Cleo said.

“I’m not the best bookseller in the world,” Natalie said. “I’m the luckiest, though.”

Bertie went to open the doors. Kids streamed in with their parents and grandparents, eager to see their favorite author. Tess and Dominic arrived with their crew, large and small. “You look fantastic,” Tess told her. “Those jeans—perfect. God, I can’t wait to not be pregnant anymore.”

“Go grab a seat. I—” Natalie spotted a familiar face and did a double take. What was he doing here? With two kids in tow. “Excuse me.”

Dean Fogarty came over to her. “Hey,” he said. “I heard about this event, so I thought I’d bring the twins to see their favorite author.” He gestured at a girl and a boy, who looked to be about ten.

“Pop-pop, can we go get seats at the front?” the boy asked. He wore a soccer shirt and had a skinned knee. Natalie flashed on her first—and last—soccer practice. The one that had been ruined for her when she’d encountered Dean with his “real” kid.

“Go ahead, Hunter,” Dean said. “Save me a seat.”

“‘Pop-pop’?” Natalie frowned.

“‘Grandpa’ made me sound too old,” he said.

“They’re your grandchildren.”

“Look, if it’s weird for you, my being here—”

“It’s not weird.” It was totally weird. “They’re going to love Trevor Dashwood.”

“They already do.” He lingered a moment longer. “Hey, I read about that rare vase you found in the bookstore. Pretty remarkable, Natalie.”

He seemed about to say something else. Natalie’s stomach was in knots. Did he want to connect with her? Did she need to tell him she knew about the tuition?

“Dean, listen,” she said. “I wanted to let you know that Mom never told me you paid my tuition. St. Dymphna’s and the college savings plan. I found out about it after she was gone.”

“I left it up to Blythe,” he said.

“That was . . . a surprise. And it was good of you. I appreciate it a lot, Dean.” She held out her hand.

He took it. His was warm, enclosing hers. “Thanks for telling me. You know, there was a time when I was out of my mind with love for Blythe. When she told me she was pregnant, I wanted to leave my wife and kids for her. She wouldn’t let me, though.”

Every single aspect of Natalie’s life would have been changed by that. Her perception of men had been shaped by Dean’s absence. Now she realized he had kept his distance out of respect for her mother.

“Mom made a difficult choice,” she told Dean, remembering her conversation with Frieda. Her mother fell in love—but didn’t stay that way.

“She did.” Dean let go of her hand. “I’ll always regret that I put her in that position.”

Natalie stepped back. All she could think about was that he had broken her mother’s heart all those years ago and left her alone. He’d raised a house full of kids with the wife he’d cheated on, and now he had grandkids.

Mom should have had grandkids , Natalie thought. That, of course, would have required her daughter to untangle her reluctance to get married. God, what a mess. No wonder Natalie had no idea how to have a family she could trust. She’d never had a role model for a relationship, so she ended up with guys like Rick and Trevor. Perfectly good guys with whom she couldn’t connect. Did her trust issues stem from Dean? Did he have that much power over her?

“Well, I need to get busy,” she said, edging away. “Hope those kids enjoy the show.”

“Hiya, Natalie!” A bright, high-pitched voice broke into her thoughts. Dorothy hurried toward her, pulling Peach along by the hand.