Page 12 of The Enemy Plot
After recovering from the first few chapters of my new book, I prepare my Instagram posts for the week. The process takes me a solid hour because I can’t get the perfect lighting and the perfect shot of my Friday flat-lay stack. Before long, it’s already time to open. Emma and I are on duty this afternoon while Hayley heads to my brother’s apartment, where she’ll stay until tomorrow.
As soon as I flip the sign out front from “Sorry, we’re reading!” to “Come in, let’s read!” the bell jingles, and Lola enters the store.
“Hi,” she says with a big grin. “I finishedCrown of RosesandAlways. I loved them both. Thank you for the recs.”
My heart swells, as it does every time someone enjoys a book I recommend. “I’m so gladyou liked them!”
“I still have the other three to read, but I was going crazy, stuck at home with my uncle. He said it was okay for me to come here this morning, if you don’t mind.”
“Your uncle?” I ask, my brow furrowing.
She twirls the back of her mocha-brown hair. “Yeah, Deacon. You’ve met him.”
“Oh, right. I assumed he was your dad.”
“Hi, there,” Emz says with a wave. She makes a beeline from the back room to Mr. Darcy’s corner, picking him up.
“Hi.” Lola waves back, then shifts her focus back to me. “No, just my uncle.”
I bite my lip. “Okay.” I really,reallywant to pry. But how insensitive would it be to ask this young girl what happened to her parents that she’s now living with her uncle? “Well, you’re welcome here anytime.”
Her face lights up. “Thank you.”
Another customer walks in, and I go assist her while Lola browses the different books on the shelves. Emma sidles up to her, and they start chatting.
A few other customers come in and, unfortunately, we’re soon swamped with no time for Lola. But she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s reading the back covers of books, checking out trope cards, and petting Mr. Darcy.
Finally, there’s only one person left to help out, and Emma is on it, so I walk over to Lola.
“Oh, that one is cute,” I say, glancing at the book she’s holding. “The French MMC is particularly swoony.”
“You’re French, right?”
“I am,” I say with a smile. “I moved here a year ago.”
“Wow. I wish I could speak French as well as you speak English. I’m failing it at school.”
“Ah, French is a hard language.” I sigh. “You know, I was actually born here. My mom was American, but I lived in France most of my life.”
“That’s so cool. I’d love to visit France one day. Even live there!” She puts the book back on the shelf. “That’d help with learning the language.”
“Oh, definitely. I’ve always had a decent level of English, but moving here really sped things up. I hope you get a chance to go.”
“Deacon will keep me locked up for the rest of my life, so that’ll probably never happen,” she says, rolling her eyes.
I chuckle softly. “That bad, huh?”
“That’s an understatement. It took endless pleading and a nudge from my therapist just for him to let me come here by myself.”
“Well, you can’t really blame him for being protective of you.” It’s weird, and kind of nice at the same time, to hearabout Deacon’s protectiveness with his niece. He can’t bethatbad if he cares so much.
“I guess.” She lowers her eyes. “I just wish my mom was still here.”
I cock my head to the side. “I’m sorry. I miss my mom too.”
She glances up at me, a questioning look in her eyes.
“My mom passed away when I was young.” The words still burn my throat every time I say them. No matter how much time passes, losing a parent leaves an indelible mark on your heart.