Wish You Were Her(4)

But after some recent, pleasing email exchanges, he was growing fond of the old thing. The last week had been full of sweet missives from a stranger and he now found himself looking forward to checking the work inbox.

“Jonah?”

“Yes, Simon? Speak while helping me open this delivery, please.”

Simon joined Jonah by the large blue boxes full of new books and helped his friend to scan them into the system, all without losing his enthusiasm.

“Heard the boss’s exciting news?”

“Nope. He barely speaks to me anymore.”

Jonah did not mean for the words to sound embittered, but that’s how they came out. He had been working in Brooks Books since the age of sixteen. Almost three years on, and his once warm relationship with the bookshop owner and general manager, George Brooks, had cooled.

He did not know the reason, and he had never been skilled at reading other people and their changing emotions.

“His daughter’s coming here for the whole summer.”

Jonah could feel himself making a face. “Didn’t know he had one.”

“Not just any old daughter.”

Jonah looked up at Simon, who was positively salivating. “You’re being weird. What’s wrong?”

“It’s just too good, Jonah. I can’t believe he’s never milked this or even mentioned it. His daughter is—”

The shop door opened and their employer came striding in. He had a newspaper tucked under one arm and, in a first since Jonah had met him, he was humming.

“Morning,” Jonah said.

“Morning, lads.”

“I was just telling Jonah that your daughter’s staying with you this summer, boss.”

The words were volleyed with sunny familiarity. Jonah had always marveled at that talent of Simon’s. Whenever it was just the two of them—and they had been friends since they were kids—Jonah saw all of Simon. Savvy, sarcastic, sometimes a little bratty. When he was around other people, he turned into sunshine. It always took a little while for people to see the real Simon, and George still got the sunshine version five days a week. Jonah wished he could do the same.

The bookshop owner smiled and looked younger in the process. “Yes. She had a break in her schedule so she’s coming home.”

“Home?” Jonah said. He had never even heard George refer to Lake Pristine as home, let alone a mysterious daughter that none of them had ever seen.

“Well, she’s never visited here before. But it’s always home for her if she needs it,” George clarified. “Which is a good segue to this: I want her to enjoy the festival. I thought she might like to work it alongside the both of you.”

That was enough to stamp out all of Jonah’s good humor and curiosity. “Our festival? The one we’ve been planning for months. That festival?”

“Yes, Jonah,” said George, a little curtly. “She’s smart. She’ll be an asset.”

“Definitely an asset on the PR front,” Simon said, a joke laced into his voice that Jonah did not understand.

“We have a packed program! We don’t have time to train someone new,” Jonah insisted. “And when I say ‘we,’ I mean me, because Simon doesn’t know the half of what I do.”

“When it comes to this place, true,” Simon conceded. “To life outside of it? You’re an old man and you need me.”

Jonah smiled. He and Simon were the same age.

“She won’t need any training. Books are in her blood and she’s a hard worker. She’s taken on more than a small-town book festival in her life, son. She’ll be fine.”

The use of the word “son” softened Jonah’s irritation and he decided to drop his protestations.

“Right,” said George. “I’ll be in the office. She’s arriving this afternoon.”

Jonah watched his employer vanish through the door with a “staff only” sign at the back of the shop, then yelped as he found himself being grabbed by the collar, Simon dropping his professional act completely now that George was gone.

“Dude, relinquish your creepy possessiveness of the work computer and let me google something for you.”

Jonah grumbled but allowed his friend to drag him over to the ancient computer. It took an embarrassing five minutes for Google to load and then Simon was typing furiously while Jonah, who was far taller, peered over his shoulder.

Allegra Brooks.

Google knew what Simon wanted before he had even finished typing the fourth letter of her name. Millions of results appeared, from an IMDb page to multiple articles published in the last twenty-four hours.

“She’s, like, freakishly famous. Not just small-town famous, globally famous. She just won all the awards for … acting and shit.”

Simon was breathless with excitement but Jonah was barely listening. He was staring at the three pictures of Allegra Brooks that had appeared at the top of the search page. One was from a modeling shoot for a magazine he had never heard of, and the other two looked as though they were from film premieres.

She had the most voluminous hair and large, incredibly kind eyes. She was smiling in one of the pictures and Jonah had to remind himself to breathe.

“Oh, God,” he said shortly. “She’s coming here?”

“Yup,” said Simon. “And I am going to be the one doing the training, my guy, make no mistake. You just relax.”