Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Josie turned slowly in a circle as though she were on a stage about to deliver a soliloquy.
When Mari ended the call, her eyes were huge. “You’ll never guess what Owen just told me! The London Bookseller wrote an amazing piece about the bookshop and our Mathilda Westcott connection. It’s the entire front page of the mystery section. I had no idea anybody was even thinking of doing a piece about it. He’s sending me a copy, but he says Mathilda was interviewed and raved about the shop, especially the re-creation of the living room where her fictional sleuth works. I can’t believe she didn’t mention the interview.”
“She wanted to surprise you,” Malcolm guessed.
“Congratulations,” Josie said. “That’s fantastic news.”
“It really is. Your shop is going to become even more popular in the very near future,” Malcolm said.
“I don’t know. Does an article in the paper make that much of a difference?” Mari asked.
Before Malcolm could respond, her phone rang again. This time, it was her shop assistant, Grace Whitmore, calling. It wasn’t too difficult to figure out what was being said, and Mari confirmed it when she hung up. “Grace says there’s a line outside the shop already, even before we opened.” She sighed. “Seems Mathilda decided to announce an impromptu book signing. I guess that article really did make a difference.” She glanced at them both. “I really need to get back to the shop. It’s too much for Grace to handle on her own.”
“We’ve got this, Mari,” Malcolm told her. “Go back to the store and sell books to all those customers.”
Mari looked at Josie. “Is that okay with you? I didn’t intend to leave you all by yourself on your first day here.”
“Absolutely, you should go back to the shop. And don’t worry, I’m not alone. Malcolm’s going to stay to help, remember?”
Mari put her hands to her cheeks. “Yes, sorry. I’m just feeling sort of flustered by this news.” She gave them both a hug and then hurried off in the direction of the shop.
“Looks like we’d better get these cottages fixed up quick. Now that the bookstore is suddenly so famous, the reading retreats are sure to become extremely popular too,” Malcolm said.
Josie nodded. “I agree. I think Mari’s absolutely wonderful, and I want to help her any way I can. Should we just begin a thorough inventory of the cottages and everything in them? And then we can compare notes and work out what needs to be done?”
He nodded. “That was precisely what I was going to suggest.”
She gave him another one of those sunny smiles, and though it made his heartbeat pick up, he needed to focus on the task at hand. He’d always been brilliant at focusing, no matter the distractions. But he’d never known anyone quite like Josie. And though he would never call her a distraction, it was certainly true that he hadn’t been able to completely focus since he’d picked her up at the airport. She was always somewhere in his head. He couldn’t stop thinking of her. Thinking of her in a way that he had never thought about another woman. He was attracted to her—frankly, more attracted to her than he could remember being to anyone else. But it was more than that.
He also truly liked being around her. He was interested in what she had to say. And he was interested in her story and how she’d come to be who she was today. He found himself wondering what had shaped her. What did she love? What was she afraid of? What had her childhood been like?
All questions that, honestly, he’d never really had about any of the women who had come before her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
During the next several hours, Josie seemed to discover a new treasure around every corner. Whether it was the blue and white cups and saucers hidden in the very back of a dingy kitchen cupboard, whose hallmark identified them as Royal Crown Derby and which Malcolm said were very collectible, or a dining chair with the family crest hand embroidered on the seat cushion in what had once surely been a lovely dining room, or very dusty old tomes on even dustier shelves in what she hoped they would transform back into a beautiful library.
Although there was a lot of work to be done, she could see how gorgeous the space would be when it was cleared out and thoroughly cleaned and then filled with books to read and cozy nooks to read them in. The cottages seemed solid. But more than that, the soul of the structures was still there. She knew from the feeling she got in these three interconnected cottages just outside the walled garden that there had been happiness here. Of course, there had been sorrows too—that was life—but on the whole, she would guess the laughter had outweighed the tears. She couldn’t wait to help bring the cottages back to life.