Spotlight: Chapter 23

“Where have you been?” my sister asks as I walk into the back office of the store.

“I had lunch with Flynn before the team leaves for Chicago this afternoon.” He was antsy and keyed up. And I was happy to distract him for forty-five minutes.

“Lunch or making out at his place?”

My face heats. “He ordered takeout.”

“I’ll bet he did.” Ruby quirks a brow, pen poised at her chin as her lips pull into a knowing smirk. “You’re glowing.”

“What?” My hand rises to my face, and then I brush my hair back and tuck it behind my ear. “No, I’m not.”

“You are. I’m totally jealous.” She sighs. “I love those first few months of dating. Lingering kisses, sweet text messages, feeling like you’ll die if you go more than a day or two without seeing each other, sex is still fun and exciting.”

Yep, that pretty much sums it up. It’s only been a few weeks since Flynn and I slept together but to say I’m falling fast would be the understatement of the century. He’s amazing. And yes, the sex is out of this world. Our schedules make it difficult to see each other every day, let alone have sex, but let’s just say we make it count when we do.

“You have it so bad. It’s written all over your face, little sister.” She makes a loop in the air with her pencil as if circling my face.

“Shut up.” I take a seat across from her and pick up a stray rubber band before shooting it at her.

She laughs as it flies by her to the right. “I’m happy for you.”

I’m happy for me too. I feel so full of life right now. Maybe it’s a post-high orgasmic bliss or too many pheromones, but I’m not questioning it.

“Is he still planning to leave at the end of the season?” Ruby asks, effectively dousing all the good feelings I was just basking in.

“Nothing is set in stone,” I say, ignoring her gaze. I don’t want to think about that. It’s months away and it might not even happen. Though I don’t really believe that. Flynn is a great pitcher. I know nothing about baseball and even I know that.

I flip through a stack of mail, and eventually Ruby goes back to staring at her laptop screen and I can’t stand the silence.

“How’s the book coming?” I ask her.

“I think I finally have something. Can I run it by you?”

“Really?” I sit straighter, happy for something else to focus on.

Her expression is a mixture of excitement and nerves as she nods.

“Absolutely.” I’ve been dying for her to tell me about what she’s writing. It’s such a sacred process for her that I never want to push.

“Okay.” She flashes a tentative smile before starting in.

“I got the idea when we were at the Mustangs game.”

I hang on her every word. Ruby is a fabulous storyteller, but when she’s in this mode, she talks fast and in circles, sometimes inserting something she forgot to say at the beginning that was important for the characters or plot. It’s like a puzzle to follow along and try to piece it all together.

It’s only when she’s finished that I offer any feedback. Which really isn’t feedback at all, but more like me fangirling over my genius sister. A sports romance from Ruby Madison? It’s so unexpected that people will lose their minds.

“Have you told Grandpa?” I ask when we finally fall quiet.

“No.” She shakes her head so quickly she looks like a bobblehead. Ruby is buzzing with nervous energy. She always gets like this right before she holes up for a few weeks and pounds out words. “I thought I’d surprise him once I know I can pull it off.”

“You can,” I assure her. “And if we have any baseball questions, I have an inside source.”

“I know baseball. Unlike you, I paid a little attention over the years.”

“I’m sorry, you baseball?” Ruby is a lot of amazing, talented things, but sporty isn’t one of them.

She waves one hand around. “There’s a ball and bases.”

I fight a laugh.

“The pitcher throws the ball and the guy with the bat tries to whack it out of the park.” She points like she’s making her closing statement. “There are quarters or—wait, no, innings and whichever team has the most points at the end wins!”

“Points?” My body folds over with laughter. Excitement and that giddy high of books mixed with my sister and her idiosyncrasies is too much to hold back. When I glance up at her, she wears a sheepish grin.

“Okay. I might need help with the baseball stuff, but the story isn’t about baseball. It’s a romance between a beloved hometown bad boy shortstop who gets in trouble and is forced to do a charity auction to save his reputation.”

“Where the heroine’s twin sister bids and wins for her sister because she knows how big of a fan she is,” I add. “I love stories where a regular woman is confronted with a celebrity only to find out he’s a big ole jerk in real life.”

She pauses. “Would it be better if he turned out to be a werewolf? Or an alien?”

She looks so serious that I don’t want to laugh, but one slips out anyway. Ruby grins and joins in.

“I think I might have broken my brain. It’s all this sports talk. I’m going to take a walk and get some fresh air.” She stands and packs up her laptop and many notepads and pens. She smiles as she zips up her backpack. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Not harassing me over the past few months and letting me figure out the book in my own time. I know it was killing you.”

“So painful. I was on death’s doorstep. Truly.”

With a chuckle, she heads out of the office, leaving me alone with the mail. The store is quiet in the afternoon. We got hit with a cold front that brought in wind and light rain. I can’t blame people for wanting to stay home. Curling up on the couch with a blanket and a good book sounds like the perfect way to spend the day.

In the late afternoon, I brave the cold for a coffee break. Inside the café, I order my usual black coffee, then decide to add a dash of cream and sugar. Flynn would be so proud. I move over to the end of the counter to wait.

“I was in your store this morning.” The voice comes from my left side and makes me jump.

When I turn, I come face to face with Walter, the owner of Plot Twist. That I didn’t even notice him speaks to how much I’m in my head lately. It’s possible falling in love makes people dumber. I wonder if Ruby can use that for plot material.

“You were?” I ask, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. He must have stopped by while I was at Flynn’s house. I wonder why Gigi didn’t mention it. She had to have recognized him.

“I received some of your mail by accident,” he says.

“Oh.” Well, that makes more sense. I can’t picture him browsing our store unless it was to scope out the competition, and that’s more something I would do than him, from what I’ve gathered in our few interactions.

“There’s quite a big romance section.”

“The largest in the city,” I say proudly. “If you ever want recommendations for your store, I’m happy to help.”

As soon as I offer, I want to kick myself. What am I doing? I can’t help the enemy.

It doesn’t matter though. Walter’s lips smash together, and he makes a disapproving hum. I’m fairly certain that’s a no.

The barista calls out his name and Walter gives me a polite nod instead of responding to my offer. He picks up his drink and leaves the café. I really don’t get that guy or how he’s managed to create such a cozy, friendly bookstore when he’s…not.

I’m hot when I get back to the store. I tell Gigi about the run-in, and she confirms he dropped by earlier with a stack of mail.

“He seems lonely,” Gigi says. “Go easy on him.”

“He dissed the store and made a face like romance is an unworthy genre.”

“I don’t think that’s what he did.” She smiles. “He said we have a big romance section, which is true.”

“The biggest in the city,” I add, just like I had done with Walter. “And he completely dismissed my offer to help him, like I couldn’t possibly have any knowledge worth sharing.”

“By your own account you didn’t really want to help.”

“But I would have,” I say defensively.

Gigi gives me a patronizing look but doesn’t say any more.

I’m still stewing over it when Grandpa stops by at the end of the day with Greer. The latter trudges in with a frown that would be comical if it weren’t also heartbreaking.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, smoothing her curls away from her face.

“Nothing,” she says in a voice that basically says the opposite.

I look to Grandpa who shrugs.

Gigi steps out from behind the counter and motions for Greer. “Why don’t you help me in the back? We got in some new princess books today.”

A flicker of excitement crosses her face, but she slams the door on it quickly, returning to her sullen mood. When they’re gone, I step closer to Grandpa.

“What’s that about?” I ask him. Greer is usually a bundle of joy when she greets me after school. She gets this look of pure happiness when she sees me and then runs to hug me like she just can’t wait another second. I live for those moments.

“She wouldn’t say, but she had this with her.” Grandpa hands me a piece of paper and then squeezes my shoulder. Confusion and concern mar my brow as he heads the same direction Gigi and Greer went.

I focus on the paper. Greer’s familiar stick people art makes me smile. I recognize myself by my big blue eyes, she always exaggerates them in pictures, and Greer by her wild, curly hair. She’s holding my hand and on the other side of her is a man I immediately identify as Flynn. He’s in a blue cap with a baseball glove.

She’s gotten attached to him, which doesn’t concern me as much as maybe it should. Maybe he won’t always be in her life, but isn’t it better to have this relationship with him now so she knows what’s possible?

I’m mulling that over while simultaneously trying to figure out why this could have prompted her to be so upset when she stomps back out. Gigi and Grandpa follow her, looking as perplexed as I feel. Rarely do her bad moods last this long and almost always a new book pulls her out of a funk.

“I want to go home,” Greer says as she crosses her arms over her chest.

My brain spins on what to say in response. It’s so out of character for her that I’m at a loss.

“I can close up here,” Gigi offers.

I nod. Part of me doesn’t want to give in to her tantrum, but the other part knows something is going on and I want to figure it out so I can fix it. ASAP.