I check my watch amid my stack of black and brown leather bracelets. “So am I done for the day yet? I’m going dancing after work.” “You can thank me another time.” Gemma at last straightens, adjusting her messy bun. “Heckling is a bonus feature, I take it?” Resigned, I cross the shop to file The Song of Achilles in the right section. She also has a habit of telling me all the gruesome details, no matter how much I protest that I’m her boss and don’t need to know those things. Gemma dates like it’s an unofficial Olympic sport. You really ought to pay me extra for that.” She grins. “You’re here as the weekend help, remember?”
I sigh, noting the untied lace on one of my Docs. Now, I’m twenty-three going on forty-three. Once upon a time, I was just Aubrey Barnes, ready to go for pints or a gig or the occasional big night out. Am I right or am I right?” Gemma gives an impish smile. “Or how about ‘Aubrey Barnes, Fierce Defender of Books’? That’s got a superhero thing going on. At any rate, we’ve got the banter down, especially now that I rely on her help in the shop. It would have been the perfect spring romance, except that I’m attracted to men, and I was together with my ex. She gave hilarious reviews, which turned out to be handy for the shop. The truth is we met in a book club a couple of years back, and we became fast friends. Thankfully, there’re no customers present to witness my daily mortifications by a uni student barely younger than me who loves to mop up the floor with my pride.
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