CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE –
Megan POV
Walking on the street to my penthouse, my phone bussed, and I checked the ID.
‘My worst Nightmare.”
It was Lilly.
What now? I hope she won’t say I have more plans for the day.
Taking a deep breath. I picked the call.
“Megan! Thank God you picked up!” Lilly’s voice blared through the speaker before I’d even finished accepting her call.
I winced, instinctively holding the phone slightly away from my ear as her frantic tone pierced the tranquil streetside ambiance around me.
“Easy there, killer. I’m right here, no need to wake the entire neighborhood.”
“Oh hush, you know how I get when I’m flustered,” she retorted without a trace of remorse.
This idiot!
“Listen, I need you to do me a huge favor, hot stuff. Not as your blazingly gorgeous and put-upon personal assistant, but as your dear friend in crisis mode. Please!”
Shifting the laden pet supply tote to my opposite hip.
I cradled Smoky’s carrier a bit closer and arched an intrigued eyebrow despite Lilly being unable to see it.
“You’ve piqued my interest, at least. Do tell what kind of damsel in distress circumstances you’ve landed yourself in this time.”
“That brand new romance novel series I’ve been drooling over for months finally dropped its first installment today,”
Lilly explained in a tone suggesting the world was ending. “Defying All Courting Rules or some such deliciously naughty title.” She heaved.
“Anyway, I’ve been so caught up with dear old mum’s health woes that I completely spaced on setting an alert for the release date!”
Despite her clear distress over these stupid little things, I couldn’t quite get why it’s important.
“Huh,” I let a snort from my mouth.
Only Lilly would consider forgetting about the launch of her latest bodice-ripper to be a legitimate crisis.
“Okay, okay, take it easy,” I soothed in a mockingly placating tone. “I’m sure there are still plenty of copies available if we get a move on. What’s the big deal about this one anyway? I thought that genre was all sort of cheap thrills and sub-par writing.”
“Excuse you, you uncultured heathen!” She promptly squawked with put-upon indignation.
“For your information, this happens to be the dazzlingly clever new debut from one S. R. Kemple – an author slated to revitalize the stagnant genre with unparalleled nuance, female empowerment, and delightfully erotic prose!”
I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. Leave it to Lilly to make excessively fawning over romance paperbacks sound like high art.
“Whatever you say, bookworm. I’ll take your word that missing out would be a travesty to your overactive libido.”
“Darn right it would be!” She didn’t miss a beat. “Which is why I’m utterly staking my hopes on you valiantly securing me a copy from that charming indie bookshop around the corner from your place before they sell out!”
Glancing around, I gauged my current location – a little over thirty blocks from the store she was likely referencing, if memory served.
Definitely within reasonable walking distance.
“You’re in luck, I was just out taking care of a couple… other errands nearby,” I replied, shifting the supplies once more where they dug into my side. “I can spare a detour to snag your precious novel so you can gush over every tantalizing passage uninterrupted by, y’know, looking after your frail mother or other responsibilities.”
“Fabulous! You’re an angel among peasants, Megan!” She gushed with palpable relief. “I’ll make it up to you somehow, I promise. Just please hurry before all the smutty goodness gets snatched up by other depraved erotica fiends like me!”
Chuckling under my breath, I shook my head in bemusement. “Copy that, literature perv. I’m on it now, so no need to send out a search party.”
“Roger that! Over and out!” She giggled before disconnecting the call.
Tucking my phone away with a bemused sigh, I readjusted my current baggage before turning on my heel and continuing on to the nearby bookstore.
Lilly always did have a flair for the ridiculously melodramatic, even over insignificant matters like romance novel releases.
But that was also one of the myriad reasons I adored her despite her overbearing antics.
She added an unpredictable, vividly hued spontaneity to my life that helped offset the stagnant periods where I tended to sink into emotional stasis if left unchecked.
Offering a low noise of contentment in Smoky’s direction, my steps felt a tad lighter as I navigated the winding sidewalks with renewed purpose propelling me forward.
Perhaps taking in this scruffy little furball and agreeing to track down Lilly’s literary indulgences were both foolish whims borne of an impulsive need for living, breathing distractions from darker compulsions lately.
Then again, Megan mused while absently patting the carrier under her arm.
“Well, let’s do this.” She muttered.
Maybe that was the entire point after all – to keep fanning the flames of any remaining sparks of connection and selfless intention inside me.
No matter how aimless or insignificant those pathways onward may seem at first.
With that conviction buoying her stride, Megan rounded the next corner only to pull up short at the sight of the modest storefront just ahead – Quintessential Books & More emblazoned cheerfully across its weathered exterior.
Perfect timing.
Shifting her sundry parcels once more, she surged forward with a determined gait, bound and determined to accomplish friend’s silly errand with peak efficiency.
…
I entered the quaint bookstore, the little bell over the door announcing my arrival. My eyes scanned the neatly arranged shelves, searching for Lilly’s ridiculous romance novel.
A kindly older woman emerged from the back room, smiling at me. “Hello dear, can I help you find anything?”
“Yes, actually,” I replied. “I’m looking for the new book Her Fake lover by S. R. Kemple. My friend is desperate to get her hands on it.”
“Ah yes, the latest scandalous bestseller,” the woman chuckled. “Very popular already. Let me check if we have any copies left.”
She turned and began scanning a nearby shelf packed with new releases.
I lingered awkwardly by the entrance, clutching Smoky’s carrier.
“There’s just one left!” The shopkeeper proclaimed triumphantly. She gestured towards the shelf section. “It should be right over there, third row from the top.”
“Thanks so much,” I said gratefully, heading in the direction she’d indicated.
Balancing Smoky and the supply tote, I stretched up on my tiptoes to reach for the lone book on the high shelf.
My fingers brushed the spine just as another hand appeared, going for the very same novel.
Our hands bumped and jostled.
In the commotion, I lost my grip on the bulky tote – it slipped from my grasp, spilling pet supplies in a clattering jumble across the floor.
“Oh shoot, I’m so sorry!” A muffled masculine voice cursed as we both instinctively crouched to scoop up the scattered items.
In the process, the man’s hood fell back, revealing a tousled crown of chestnut hair and handsome, chiseled features…
“Chris?” I blurted in shock, meeting those unmistakable hazel eyes widening behind thin frames.
“… Hey there, Megan.” He uttered.
Wh…. what the hell! Is! he doing here?