Not disinterest then. Whatever had gone wrong between them hadn’t been about lack of attraction. Reed filed that away.
“Dark Defenders is a noir style comic with a lady hero. She’s kind of a ’40s vigilante—think Agent Carter meets Batman. She has a small support team a la Team Arrow, including a detective in the local precinct, who she saves from getting shot by the big crime boss.”
“Please tell me there’s a will they/won’t they almost romance.”
Is that what this is? “Naturally. It’s an indie published comic by S.J. Wayfield that’s been taking the comic world by storm. But it’s pretty new, so unless your cousin keeps up with the cutting edge, she probably hasn’t read it.”
“Works for me.”
“You want to just grab the first issue for her to try or the first collected volume? That’s the first eight.”
“Volume.”
“Excellent choice.” Reed grabbed the relevant volume, and they headed for the register. “So how’s the job search going?”
“It’s…going. I’ve had a few interviews, but nothing that I really want.”
He sensed reluctance rather than disappointment under that statement. She loved Wishful. He knew she did. And that gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, she wanted to stay. If she did, if she could, he might get another shot.
“Well, good luck. I’m sure the right thing will come along. Brenda, you want to take this one?”
“Sure.” Brenda offered up a genuine, if rusty, smile.
Reed kept an eye on the transaction, but she rang up the purchase with no problems. She’d be fine on the register while he did some work on inventory.
Cecily lifted her bag in salute. “Thanks for the recs. I’m sure Blair will love them.”
“Happy to help.” If he asked her out right now, what would she say? He still hadn’t sorted out what had gone wrong. Better to think things through before acting.
When they’d gone, Brenda shook her head. “So strange.”
On his way back to the tiny room that housed his office, Reed paused. “What is?”
“Her friend just bought out every copy of this month’s M & S.”
“Really?” That was strange. M & S wasn’t one they usually sold out of, certainly not days after release. And Christoff had already bought a copy the first time he’d come in. “Weird.” Making a mental note to order more, he retreated to his office to hide from the cougar on the prowl.
Chapter 2
We have high hopes for her, Cecil reported of his granddaughter.
Cecily picked up her wine and took another hefty swig as she continued to read the article. Her grandfather knew how to talk the talk. He’d never say anything to besmirch the family name, which meant pretending like The Incident had never happened, like Cecily hadn’t screwed up and cost them a small fortune, and as if she were still actually a contender for doing anything legitimate in the family empire.
Cecily knew better. She knew how to read between the lines of what her family never said and had banished herself before they were forced to sort out the best way to deal with her and the embarrassment she’d caused.
She’d never imagined she’d fall in love with the work she was doing. Or that she’d find an incredible freedom in leaving behind the family name and all its attendant pressures. She was happy in the life she was making for herself, even if that life was in transition.
Someday she’d prove herself. She’d make up for youthful mistakes. And then…well, then they’d see.
But someday wasn’t here yet and having this publicity out there threatened to undermine everything she’d accomplished. At least the author hadn’t unearthed details of The Incident. Or had been discouraged from printing them. None of her Google Alerts had popped to indicate that anybody else was regurgitating that mess again, so chances were she was safe from anybody in the media sniffing out her current location.
She tossed the copy she was reading onto the small mountain of others littering their coffee table.
“What are you going to do with all of them?”
Cecily glanced at Christoff over the rim of her wineglass. “I have no idea. It’s chilly out. Maybe we’ll have a bonfire, roast some marshmallows. Make a few s’mores.”
“There are probably carcinogens in the ink or paper or something.”