“You idiot,” he muttered.
That night under the stars, after that one, glorious kiss, they’d talked about careers and life. She’d asked him what prompted him to take over the bookstore. And instead of talking about his desire to make it a hub of the community and his pleasure in spreading his deep love of books, he’d talked about how it was a big screw you to Annelise Arrington, his money-worshiping college girlfriend, who’d wanted nothing to do with his small-time, small town life.
There’s no such thing as a woman raised in the lap of luxury, who has even the remotest grip on reality. Ivory tower princesses, all of them.
Jesus Christ. Why had he said that? He’d needed some giant cartoon cork shoved in his pie hole to save him from his own stupidity.
After rejecting him, Annelise had gone back home to the coast and ended up marrying some Pretentious Playboy the Fourth. Some heir to a beer distributorship or some such. Which Reed knew because they'd been smack dab on the cover of the Mississippi Magazine wedding issue two years ago. He'd spent three months being slapped in the face with the image, seriously considering discontinuing the entire periodicals section of the store the whole time.
He didn’t love Annelise anymore. The only reason he’d even been thinking about her at all that weekend was because he’d seen an article in The Clarion Ledger society pages talking about some political fund-raising gala she was chairing. The sight of her picture had stirred the whole noxious mess back up, reigniting all those feelings that his life was too small, that he was too unworthy. Instead of thanking God that he’d narrowly escaped a miserable marriage, only to be granted the gift of interest from a much better woman, that sense of inadequacy and bitterness had come pouring out.
All he’d done was prove to Cecily that he was small-minded, petty, and prejudiced against the wealthy. Why on earth should she think he’d accept her after that?
Looking around his store, with all its meandering rooms flowing one to the next, a small part of him wondered if Annelise had been right on some level. He hadn’t turned Inglenook into the fully engaged community hub he’d wanted. Other than expanding their catalog to be more in keeping with the times, he’d changed very little since he’d bought the place. It was a small town bookstore and he loved it. But it wasn’t the more he’d envisioned for it.
The phone in his pocket buzzed. He slipped it out to find a text from Selina.
Hey cutie. How’s your day going?
Reed glanced instinctively toward Brenda. Zach’s plan had worked like a charm. As soon as she’d found out about his “girlfriend,” she’d backed off. No confrontation. No awkwardness. Well, not more than a tolerable level, anyway. Thank God.
Because he had no one else to talk to about this, he texted Selina back. Do you ever feel stuck?
Selina: Stuck how?
Reed: I don’t know. In life, I guess. When I bought the store a few years ago, I had all these plans for what I wanted it to be. Big, huge plans. And I’ve just been sitting here looking around thinking that I really haven’t implemented any of them.
Selina: What’s stopping you?
What indeed? Reed hesitated before answering. I don’t know. Maybe fear of failure.
Selina: Well, never trying guarantees failure. Wouldn’t you rather try and fail than never take the risk? I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?
The worst that could happen? Having reality bear out Annelise’s prediction that his vision would never fit in a town like Wishful. Having her be right about anything was enough to give him indigestion. But even if it didn’t work, what would he really lose? He liked his bookstore exactly as it was. If he tried something and it didn’t take, it wasn’t as if he didn’t like his life and his work. He was still better off without her, still perfectly content with his small town world.
Reed texted back. You know what? You’re right.
Selina: Good for you! So what’s your first step?
The first and most obvious step would be to take advantage of the assets at his disposal. This kind of project was what Cecily excelled at. What would she say if he asked for her help? She’d probably find an excuse to get out of it and pawn it off on Norah. Not that Norah wouldn’t be amazing at this. She’d probably even do it as a family favor. But if he was going to take a risk on the one, why not take a risk on the other?
He hadn’t fought hard enough to find out what was wrong this summer, and he’d regretted it ever since. If he could convince Cecily to work with him on this bookstore project, then maybe he could convince her to give him a second chance. Reed knew she was looking for jobs elsewhere, knew that his window of opportunity was closing. It was now or never.
Fingers flying, he texted Selina back. I’m going to ask for help.
Selina: Bravo.
Reed looked down at the stack of magazines still waiting to be racked.
He owed Cecily an apology. But how could he make one without admitting he knew her secret? And she clearly wanted to keep it a secret or she wouldn’t have had Christoff buying up all the evidence linking her to her family. Did she even have a cousin Blair? Or had that whole interlude been an excuse to run interference while Christoff made the purchase? Did that mean Christoff knew?
Didn’t matter who knew. Either way, Reed needed the opportunity to do some damage control, to prove that he wasn’t the narrow-minded reverse snob he appeared to be. And there was only one person who had the power to give that to him, his cousin’s fiancée.
She answered on the first ring. “This is Norah.”
“Hey, it’s Reed. Have you got a minute?”
“For you I can make two. What’s up?”