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“I was just wondering if you heard yourself.” I shook my head. “Backup dates are for prom. Maybe college. But then? It ends.”

“Well, I haven’t taken her anywhere lately. So yeah, it ended.”

“And you still are considering spending close to six mil on a house so she has a renovation project she’s excited about?”

“I guess when you put it that way, it sounds a little weird. But not outside the realm of reasonable.” Noah dropped invitations in the trays. “I liked it better when I was grilling you about your love life. Tell me about the Plaza. Who actually stays in a place like that?”

I laughed. That had been my initial question when I first considered the whole trip. But after browsing the website with all the glitz and glam? It had been obvious. “Billionaires in New York.”

20

MEGAN

“Happy Halloween.” I smiled and waved to the mom with her three kids—all in costume already, even though it was just after three in the afternoon—as they left the bookstore. The kids had gotten a handful of candy out of my stash. Mom had loved the trick or treat with a book idea and ended up buying herself a trick and a treat.

In fact, the wrapped books were disappearing faster than I’d expected them to. I should probably go in the back and grab the pile I’d put together this morning before I opened and replenish the shelves.

I was just heading to the back room when the bell over the door jingled. I turned and my heart sank. “Hello, Reuben.”

“Trick or treat!” He grinned at me and pulled down the white mask that covered three-quarters of his face before swirling a black cape lined with red around and hiding it behind his arm.

“Dracula?” I knew it was the wrong answer, but I just didn’t want to jump into whatever strange fantasy he’d concocted with me as the Christine to his Phantom.

He pushed the mask back up to the top of his head. “Pfft. You call yourself a bookseller?”

“Dracula is a book. One that’s remained popular through the years despite some of the tragic film versions that have nothing to do with the actual storyline Stoker penned.” I offered a tight smile.

Reuben crossed his arms. “You’re telling me Dracula is more popular thanThe Phantom of the Opera?”

“Book-wise? Absolutely. Most people don’t even realize the musical was based on a book by Gaston Leroux.” I’d read the book when Phantom had returned to Broadway briefly to celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary. It was another instance of the book not really having a lot to do with the actual stage production. And, in my opinion, one of the few times the movie—or in this case, play—was better. Probably because of the music.

“Are you obtuse on purpose, or are you really just dumb?”

I lifted my eyebrows. It was the only response he was going to get to his question. “Can I help you find something? I believe we have copies of both books in stock.”

He shook his head and turned to eye the table where the trick-or-treat books were. He flicked the wrapping paper. “This is clever. Find it on Pinterest?”

“It’s been popular with the shoppers today. Sometimes people want a surprise.” That certainly seemed to be the case, as the trick books were considerably more popular than the treats. “I’m sure there’s something in there that you’d enjoy.”

Reuben snorted. “Doubtful.” He looked around. “Where’s the candy?”

“I have some in the back for the kids who come around later. Why?”

“I’m in costume. I said the appropriate words. I expect a reward.” He tipped his head to the side and took a step toward me. “If you don’t want to give me candy, I’m sure we can come up with something else that’s sweet for you to give.”

For the first time with Reuben, I was nervous. I swallowed and forced myself not to take a step back. “I suppose since you insist on acting like a child, candy is appropriate.”

His eyes flashed with anger but he seemed to work to rein it back. His face settled into a stony glare.

I scooted around him back to the register and reached underneath to withdraw the plastic pumpkin that held my candy. I reached in, closed my hand around the first piece of candy I touched, and drew it out. Then I tossed it, underhand, toward him.

Reuben fumbled the catch and the chocolate dropped on the floor. He scowled. “I’m not eating that.”

“It’s wrapped, it’s fine. And it’s all you’re getting.”

“Stingy. I guess it makes sense, since I’m sure your little store here is struggling.”

It wasn’t. Not anymore. My online orders were up. As were my in-person sales. I couldn’t say for sure, but I was fairly certain both C. J. and Heather were encouraging their friends to come and shop.

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