5. Josie

FIVE

Josie

As evening fell, I nestled into my reading nook. The inviting warmth of my apartment, a charming two-bedroom on the fifth floor of a classic Seattle brownstone, surrounded me. It wasn’t overly extravagant, but it was cozy and had a glorious view of the city skyline.

The place smelled perpetually of aged paper and a faint whiff of fresh coffee, scents that seemed to linger even when I couldn’t find their sources.

One of my great joys was snuggling in my favorite cat-print pajamas that had seen better days. To add to the symphony of comfort, Gatsby, the youngest of the Bookish Cat’s feline entourage, had followed me home and was now snoozing peacefully at my sock-clad feet, his soft purring lulling me into a sense of deceptive tranquility.

Because today had been anything but tranquil.

I tried to calm my mind by settling into my reading nook, tucked away in a corner of the living room—my treasured tomes piled haphazardly on vintage bookshelves, spilling out onto small side tables, and even stacked like literary skyscrapers on the floor. These books had been my solace during a childhood when I felt I had no choices, no freedom, no future of my own.

Tonight, however, even my favorite Krista Street book couldn’t stop the whirl of turmoil in my head. The day’s events replayed in my mind like a stubborn earworm—the sudden reappearance of Caleb with his enigmatic eyes, his casual charm, and the unresolved past that echoed in the hollow spaces of our conversation. The twist of his hand, which sent Mr. Anderson on his way.

As I dwelled on the sight of him, my heart palpitated at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings. But every time I imagined him taking me in his arms the way he’d done when we were younger, surrounding me and making me feel like the most important woman in the world, a wiser voice thundered into my mind as if over a loudspeaker.

Don’t get your hopes up. He probably won’t be back.

He’d been there and then he’d been gone. He’d come back… and he’d likely go again. Tomorrow, the day after? Who knew, but I wasn’t going to wait to find out. Barb was wrong—expecting that Caleb would be my date was a bad idea all around. And I absolutely could not get attached to the idea of him as a fixture in my life, permanent or otherwise.

In a bid to anchor my wavering thoughts, I turned my attention to the more urgent matter at hand.

My great-grandmother’s hundredth-birthday party was nearing, and there was no way I could go without a date, for my own sanity. In a sudden fit of desperation, I set my novel on the antique side table and grabbed my laptop. I settled back into my throne, an oversized plush armchair with an eclectic mix of throw pillows, and logged back into FindYourGuy.com. There had to be at least one man who could fit the bill. To ask Caleb—even if I did see him again—would be asking too much.

The glow from my laptop screen illuminated the room as I scanned through profile after profile, my mouse hovering over the “Chat Now” button. Forget about the man whose entire profile was in rhyme… no, not the taxidermist again… hmm, a rock collector?

Rock collector is a good contender…

I took a deep breath and clicked on his profile, determined to plunge in headfirst and find myself a date.

Josie: Hi there. I saw you’re into rock collecting! That’s really interesting!

RockCollector89: Hi, yes! I do have a fondness for lithology. My buddies like to joke that I’m always between a rock and a hard place.

Josie: Haha, that’s a good one!

Josie: So, I’m going to be straight with you. How do you feel about family events?

RockCollector89: Family events? I usually dig those! They can be quite fun, much like unearthing a rare mineral.

Josie: Great! Because I have one coming up soon, and I’m debating whether to bring a plus one.

RockCollector89: Oh, really? That sounds exciting. Where will it be?

Josie: My great-grandmother’s house in Snoqualmie. It’s her 100th birthday.

RockCollector89: Snoqualmie, you say? Isn’t that near the foothills of the Cascade Range? I might get to see some classic metamorphic rock formations there.

Josie: Uh, I’m not sure. I was more focused on the birthday cake aspect.

RockCollector89: Haha, cake is good too! I suppose I can always eat my slice on a slab of gneiss.

Josie: A slab of what now?

RockCollector89: Gneiss! It’s a common and widely distributed type of rock formed by high-grade regional metamorphic processes. The layering of minerals gives it a unique appearance!

Josie: Oh, you’re… really into the rock thing, aren’t you?

RockCollector89: Absolutely! All rocks, all the time.

Josie: Well, I would need you to promise not to replace the birthday candles with stalagmites.

RockCollector89: Can’t make any promises! But I would do my best.

Josie: Noted. I’ll keep you posted .

I told myself this was a normal exchange, that he was probably a normal guy who would talk about rocks. A lot. And maybe that was okay because then he could occupy my mother with various drab tales of quartz and who knew what else while I got some time with my distant cousins, who were the only fun members of the family.

As I drifted off, I tried to think of the rock collector, his mussed blond hair under a baseball cap, the way it was in his profile picture. But no matter how hard I tried, it was Caleb’s face that reappeared like a beacon and stayed with me while I slept.

The next day, as I was lost in thought amid the towering bookshelves, the familiar jingle of the shop’s entrance bell made me stop.

It can’t be him.

Before I could turn around, a voice came from behind me, the voice that still sent the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy, even after all these years.

“Josie,” Caleb said, making my name sound like a sacred incantation.

“Oh, hello.” I wished that sounded more natural.

“You did something remarkable yesterday.”

I scrambled to stifle the grin that threatened to bloom across my face. Playing it cool was never my forte, but now was as good a time as any to try. I responded with a nonchalant, “Oh, did I?”

His laugh echoed through the room. He looked at me with newfound respect, a sparkle of excitement in his eyes that lit something in the center of my chest, a wave of heat licking across my skin, and I had to hold myself back from doing something I’d regret. Like jumping into his arms and wrapping my legs around him the way I used to do.

“Those books you recommended—they were exactly what the couple needed. And you must have known they would be. You have an uncanny ability.”

“Well, that’s part of the bookseller’s job description, isn’t it?” I tried to keep my tone light, even as I fought off waves of desire.

“No, it’s more than that,” he insisted, stepping closer. “You’ve… you’ve really got something.”

Does he know about the journal? Does he think I’m a fraud?

He took another step closer, invading my personal space and testing my resolve not to get closer to him. Why was he so damn magnetic? I never had this problem with other men, only Caleb. He was under my skin, with seemingly no effort at all.

“I could use your instincts for my mission. The one I told you about when we first met.”

His words hung in the air between us, creating a potent mix of disbelief and anticipation. I blinked once, twice, waiting for his words to sink in, trying to figure out how to respond. The silence of the bookstore only magnified the moment, making it feel as monumental as it was unexpected.

My silence must have worried Caleb because he swiftly added, “And of course I’ll return the favor. You help me with my mission, and I help you with… whatever you need. Deal?” His eyes searched mine, looking for an answer.

My mind began to whirl, and I glanced down at the worn rug beneath my feet, biting my lip. His offer was tempting, very tempting, but was I willing to put my heart on the line again? The situation with my family was a hot mess, one that had only grown more convoluted and painful over time. And then there was Nana Geraldine’s birthday bash. The stress over my great-grandmother’s upcoming party and the whole plus-one expectation was just making it worse. But to get tangled up with Caleb was like signing up to have my heart broken.

“Well,” I began, my lips moving before my brain could stop them. “There is something…” I took a deep breath and quickly spilled out the rest. “I’ve got a family event coming up—a hundredth-birthday party for my great-grandmother—and it could be… well, complicated.”

“Why’s that?” Caleb asked, his tone soft, inviting. Like my own personal catnip, he was always drawing me in. How I longed to nestle my face into his neck and tell him everything. But I stayed in place.

“You remember how things were with my family,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I told him as much as I could bear at that moment. How since we’d had a blow up in my first year of university, we hadn’t seen eye to eye. How their thinly-veiled remarks about being irresponsible still stung, and therefore how I avoided seeing them as much as possible. How our relationship only grew more toxic with time. Except with my great-grandmother. She and I had managed to stay as close as we ever were—maybe because she was a weirdo herself, though she had earned the right by being on the planet for nearly a century.

He stood listening, eyes wide in empathy and the occasional murmur of “I’m sorry to hear that” and a much quieter mutter of “ Piece of shit” that I don’t think I was meant to hear.

I finished with a sigh, anxious to hear his answer about the birthday party.

“So, you need a date to run interference. Be your arm candy for a day and keep the family occupied and satisfied.” He stood taller, and his look of determination brought to mind images of me being the one satisfied, not my family. Hot damn, this man was dangerous. “Josie, I told you years ago that love is my job, and an event like this, patching up old grudges, well, it’s practically my calling,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m in.”

The relief that washed over me was immense, like a whole shelf of books being lifted off my shoulders. I let out a breath, and for the first time in a long while, the prospect Nana Geraldine’s birthday didn’t seem quite so daunting… even if it was going to make things more complicated with the first—and only—love of my life.

I was just going to ignore that last part for now. I always did prefer to be an ostrich with my head in the sand.