Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Anyway, I want to focus on her and the secret she said she wants to unveil. Her something.
“You know those renovations we’ve been working on for the last few months?” she asks, speaking even faster than usual.
“Yes,” we say in unison.
“I can finally give you a sneak peek.” She sounds like she’s about to burst from excitement.
“Show us,” I say.
“It’s a secret though. We’re going to do a big marketing campaign for the new wing,” she adds, trying and failing to suppress a smile. Her manager’s at the front desk, so she ushers us down the hall, past the cocktail bar, then around the corner to a closed door that looks imposingly locked. But she’s got a key of course, so she opens it, but then pauses.
“This door was only closed because this wing has been under construction. We’re redoing this area to better suit the name of the inn,” she says, gesturing to a vintage sign hanging in the hallway: Stay a while and read a book.
I hum happily. “I’m intrigued.”
With her chestnut hair swept into a sleek ponytail and wearing a cranberry summer pantsuit, Bridget’s the image of polished and poised as she reaches into her pocket for a key card and swipes it over a door labeled: The Nook.
“Anything with nook in it has to be good,” Ripley says.
Bridget swings open the door. “And it is very good. It used to be an arcade room once upon a time. And now…just look!”
I stop in the doorway and my jaw drops as I take it in, from the light spilling through the window to the inviting scent of linen and well-worn pages. “Holy shit.”
“It’s a book lover’s wet dream,” Ripley says.
Bridget smacks her affectionately. “Be more crass.”
“This is giving me a lady boner,” I say.
Bridget rolls her eyes but then twists her hands together. “Seriously, you like it?”
“Like it? It’s orgasmic,” I say as I walk in and gape at the onetime game room that’s been redone into a library. Tall sage-green shelves line one wall and are stuffed with books—hardbacks and paperbacks, from romance to thrillers to sci-fi to memoirs. It’s a book lover’s paradise.
“We also want to add some little touches in each room to fit the name. Like a cute little shelf in the corner of a room with a few books—a mix. A mystery, a thriller, a romance. So the bookstore will help curate the titles and then have a little QR code that lists other books like these that they can get at the store. And because the bookstore is going to host some bigger book shows in town, we thought maybe we could have themed weekends in partnership with them.”
“It’s amazing,” I say, genuinely proud of my friend and what she’s done with this small-town inn.
“And the best part? Those,” she adds, gesturing to a trio of huge chairs. Each one is an oversized lounge you can sink into. They look like they’re made of pillows, and one’s cream, and the other two are dusty rose.
“Gah. It’s heaven for book lovers,” I say, flopping down into one of the inviting chairs. It’s big enough for three.
Bridget breathes a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you like it. I can’t wait to roll out the renovations. We’re going to relaunch the cocktail bar with bookish-themed cocktails, and we’ll also have space here for author events when the bookstore needs more room.”
We all flop down in the big chair together and stare out the window at the small town that’s our home. Main Street below is hustling and bustling. “This town is really becoming something, isn’t it?” I say wistfully.
“It sure is,” Ripley says, then adds proudly, “and so are you.”
“Yeah, how is everything going with the hot boss you’re banging again?” Bridget asks.
I saw my friends last week, but not since Sawyer and I started dance lessons. “We seem to keep falling into bed,” I say, shrugging, like Sawyer and I really can’t help it. Then I smile. “Last night…I spent the night.”
Ripley arches a tell me more brow. “Did you now?”
“And he made me breakfast. With mangoes and omelets. And he stopped by my house first to get my dog. He took him for a run this morning. And I’m going to—”
I stop myself before I say see him perform karaoke tonight.
That’s sacred to Sawyer, and I feel like I’m part of the inner circle of…two. I fight off a smile.
“What are you smiling for?” Bridget says, nudging me.
“Because I’m so happy for you, Bridge,” I say—and that’s true.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re such a liar.”
Ripley elbows me. “She is. She does that thing when she lies.”
“What thing?”
“An over-the-top smile,” she says.
“I do not. I smile a lot,” I say defensively.
“Yes, Miss Sunshine,” Bridget says with a smirk. “But it’s a fifty-mile-wide smile when you’re lying.”