“Well, that’s the end,” she said, closing the book. “Lad a Dog, is finished…again,” she chuckled, staring at the dog curled up on the bed.
The dog yipped, jumped down, ran to the book shelf, pawed at a book, until it fell onto the floor. He picked it up and brought it to her.
“Oh, no. I’m NOT reading Old Yeller. Last time I read that, you didn’t come out from under the bed for three days. Choose something else.
The dog put his paw on the book.
“No,” she said, “There are plenty of happy dog books to choose from.”
The dog took the book and went back to the shelf.
“Someone’s here,” she said. “I’ll be right back. And nothing with Lassie, you know how upset you get.”
The woman was in the romance section, although to be perfectly honest, the sections changed according to the customers needs.
“Hello,” she said, smiling at her “Your books are ready.”
“My books?” asked the woman, glancing up from, Loves Passionate Embrace. “I didn’t order any books.”
“They’re ready and waiting. You don’t want any of those,” she said, leading her to the counter. “These are the books that will unleash your passion. Make you feel alive and fearless.”
“How did you…”
“And this book,” she said, placing a thin square book on top of the pile, “is one that you need to read to your cat. She’s been feeling quite lonely, the last few months.”
“Tippy? Lonely?”
“Well, you have been distracted and withdrawn lately.”
“How did you know that I have a cat?”
“The white fur on your jacket.”
“Oh,” laughed the woman. “Of course.”
“I’d start reading right away, if I were you,” she said, conspiratorially. “Passion needs a way out, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, I do,” said the woman blushing. “I know exactly what you mean.”
The woman left and she straightened the counter, waiting for the man outside, to come in. He kept looking at his phone and then at the sky. Finally, he climbed the stairs two at a time, and burst into the shop.
“Hi.”
“Drink this,” she said, sliding an ice cold glass of juice toward him.
“What is it?”
“Juice. My own recipe. Go ahead, you’ll love it. Everyone does.”
He gulped it down and slammed the empty glass on the counter. “That really was good.”
“I know.”
“Mango?”
“A bit,” she said, watching the tension he was holding, slip away.
“This is a nice shop,” he said, looking around. “Cozy and…interesting. The books look as if they’re glowing. Must be the sunlight.”
“Of course, it is” she said, holding his book.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“You’re book.”
“My book?” he snickered.
“Yes,” she said, showing him the name of the author.
“That’s my name!” he said, his eyes wide.
“Well, it is your book, after all.”
“But I haven’t written it yet.”
“I got an advanced copy,” she said.
“How?”
“Oh, I’ve been in the business a long time,” she said.
The dog came down the stairs and sat next to the man. He turned, sat on the floor, and began petting him. “You’re a nice puppy, aren’t you,” he said, rubbing the dog’s neck. You look like the dog I had when I was a kid,” he muttered, hugging him. Then he stood up. “I like your dog.”
“He’s a nice dog,” she agreed.
“So, what were we talking about?”
“You said you wanted this book on what to do after you get published, and this one on how to write your second book.”
“Really?”
“And I think your idea about a shadow world that exists within our own, sounds wonderful. You might want to start writing your ideas down, as soon as possible.”
“You think that’s an interesting concept?”
“Sounds like a bestseller to me.”
The man left and the dog sat, thumping his tail against the old wooden floorboards.
“You turned into a Black Lab for him?”
The dog smiled and thumped some more.
“Well, you did the right thing,” she said, kissing his face. “He loved his dog. You made him feel happy and young again. Now come upstairs and let’s see which book you’ve chosen.”
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