7. Josie

SEVEN

Josie

I had always dreamed of hosting a book signing at the Bookish Cat, to turn the little haven of books into a bustling hub for authors and readers alike. With my shop finally gaining a foothold in the local community, here was my chance. Never mind that it was a great excuse to get my thoughts off of other subjects.

As I scrolled through a colorful article aptly entitled “How to Host Your First Book Signing Event,” I was grinning like I used to on Christmas morning. My eyes drank in the vibrant photos of cozy, crowded bookshops, authors signing books with broad smiles, and readers clutching their newly signed copies like precious jewels.

My mind was abuzz with ideas. Creating an atmosphere with soft music and warm lighting, setting up a cozy corner for the author, preparing little gifts for the attendees. The anticipation of the event was as delightful as the novels that lined the shelves of the shop. The prospect of meeting an author, of watching them interact with their fans, filled me with the same thrill that had been the reason for the bookstore in the first place—creating new relationships between the mind, the heart, and the imagination.

And then my phone pinged. Something about it was more foreboding than the high-pitched ding let on.

It was from my brother.

Frederick: Grandma is hitting the big one-zero-zero, Jos. It’s shaping up to be quite the family reunion. You should try showing up for this one. A little time off from your fancy new bookstore wouldn’t hurt. It might actually be interesting for the family to catch a glimpse of the elusive ‘real world’ Josie Ray.

The words on the screen knocked the breath out of me, echoing in my mind with a bitterness that twisted my stomach. I could almost hear his voice, laced with the same old criticisms, comparisons, and underestimations.

For as long as I could remember, Fred and the rest of the family had viewed my passion for literature with a bemusement bordering on scorn. His text was nothing more than a modern-day, digital version of Mrs. Bennet’s complaints from Pride and Prejudice .

Fred’s words weren’t about concern, they were about control. My love for books was never the issue. Their intolerance of it was a reflection of their inability to accept that I didn’t want to follow the family way like Fred did.

Try as I might to get back into the article on book signings, I couldn’t. Fred’s message had a funny effect on me, like the strange dreams that come during a fever. I found myself staring into the distance, the soft hum of the bookstore fading into the background. There it was again, the faint shadow of an alternate life I’d left behind—a life where I was an accountant, working tirelessly in the business that my parents had built from the ground up, just like I had done with the Bookish Cat.

My family’s accounting firm, Ray he looked at me with a softness I didn’t expect and wasn’t ready for.

“That girl doesn’t realize all she’s got, having a mother like that. Maybe she will, when she’s older,” I said.

He held my eyes, not letting me breathe as he took a half-step closer. His voice was gentle when he asked, “Josie, how did things fall apart so badly with your family? It wasn’t like this before.”

His question hung in the air between us. It wasn’t prying, and I wanted to tell him, to share the burden. Something about Caleb’s steady gaze made me feel safe.

“Well,” I started, the words tasting unfamiliar on my tongue. “You know I never wanted to be an accountant like the rest of them. But it all came to a head when I had to enroll for a second semester of…”

My voice trailed off as Caleb’s focus abruptly shifted. His eyes looked past me, his expression hard to read. His whole demeanor changed in an instant, the moment of intimacy suddenly left suspended.

His entire body seemed to tense, as if he was listening to something I couldn’t hear. His smile faded, replaced by a look of concentration that hinted at something urgent, something important.

“What is it?” I wanted to know, but I also didn’t. I could already tell this meant our moment was ending before it really began.

He blinked back into focus, turning toward me again. His face was alight with an excitement I hadn’t seen before. “Josie,” he breathed out. “One of my matches… they’re so close. And they are a hard one. I hate to go, but?—”

“Of course,” I said, against my desire to demand he stay right where he was. “It’s okay. ”

With that, he was already moving, heading toward the door. But just as he reached it, he turned back. In two quick strides, he was in front of me. Before I could react, he leaned in, pressing a quick, tender kiss to my cheek. It was over before it registered in my brain that it was happening, leaving a trail of warmth that spread down to parts of me I’d forgotten existed.

“See you soon, Josie,” he called over his shoulder, his voice full of promises. I touched my cheek where his lips had been, my heart pounding in my chest as I watched him disappear into the Seattle afternoon.

But those promises? He’d made many of them, and they didn’t fade so easily.