Cassie is waiting in line at Starbucks to get her morning coffee. She’s fiddling with her phone, when a familiar voice cuts through her thoughts: “One cappuccino filled to the brim—make sure it’s to the brim—in a

to-go cup. And make sure the foam is good. If the foam isn’t good, I’m sending it back.”

It’s Lydia. Ordering a drink from the barista. There are only two people separating them in the line. Cassie considers slipping out, but decides Lydia shouldn’t get to be the boss of whether or not she orders a drink at Starbucks. If she wants a latte, she’s going to get a latte.

“And I would also like a raisin bran muffin,” Lydia continues, her voice sharp as if they’d already gotten her order wrong. “Lukewarm. Put it in the microwave for exactly fifteen seconds.”

The cashier’s lips are valiantly straining to hold her smile. “Will that be all?”

“Repeat it back to me,” Lydia demands. “One cappuccino to-go and—”

“One cappuccino filled all the way to the brim. With good foam.” “Filled all the way to the brim,” the cashier says dutifully. “And a

raisin bran muffin.”

“Microwaved for fifteen seconds.”

The cashier bows her head. It’s clear her patience is running thin. “Microwaved for fifteen seconds.”

Lydia is lucky they prepare the drink in front of her. Or else there would definitely be spit in it.

She’s standing right by the counter when Cassie orders her drink. Cassie is certain Lydia will notice her and say something, but Lydia is doing something on her phone that completely absorbs her. Cassie is no more than an ant on the pavement to her.

Cassie watches her for a moment, safe in the knowledge that Lydia doesn’t notice her. She’s wearing a dress suit that looks achingly expensive, even from across the room. Her blond hair is pulled back into a severe French knot, and her keen eyes scan the contents of the screen of her phone. Lydia is very beautiful, although not as beautiful as Francesca. But apparently, that was never a source of resentment. Lydia has never seemed one to be obsessed with her looks, but Cassie gets a vibe that Francesca spent a lot of time maximizing her appearance.

Francesca. Why does that woman keep invading her thoughts?

“Lydia?”

Lydia jerks her head up at the sound of her name being called. She sees her drink on the counter along with her muffin. She touches the muffin with the tip of her finger. “It’s still cold,” she says impatiently.

The girl who brought out her order frowns. “We microwaved it for fifteen seconds.”

“Then you did it incorrectly because it’s still cold.”

The girl shakes her head. “I don’t know if it’s possible to microwave incorrectly.”

“Yet somehow you still did.” Lydia slides the plate back across the counter. “Please microwave it for another fifteen seconds.”

The girl would have, in Cassie’s opinion, every right to throw the muffin back across the counter at Lydia. But instead she dutifully goes back to the microwave and heats up the muffin a second time. She brings it to Lydia.

“Better?” she asks.

Lydia touches the muffin with her fingertip. “Yes.” “I’m sorry about that.”

Lydia shrugs. “That’s why you’re the one wearing the apron, isn’t

it?”

The girl’s mouth drops open. At first, Cassie is certain she’s just

going to take it, but it seems like the girl’s had a rough morning with one too many picky customers, because she pulls the muffin off the counter, throws it on the floor, and says to Lydia, “Get out.”

Lydia stares at her. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been nothing but rude since you walked in here and we don’t want your business,” the girl says. She opens up a cash register and hands over a few dollars. “Here’s a refund on your muffin.”

Lydia’s pale eyelashes flutter. “I’d like to speak with the manager.” “I’m the manager,” the girl says. “And I want you out.”

“Fine,” Lydia hisses. “The owner will hear about this. Believe me.”

She yanks her cappuccino off the counter and walks out so abruptly that she knocks down a chair with her giant purse. Cassie watches her go, unable to believe her eyes. Surely that’s not the worst thing a customer has ever done at Starbucks. There’s just something about Lydia that rubs people the wrong way.

She sure rubs me the wrong way.

Cassie retrieves her own latte from the counter, and then leaves to head back to the bookstore. Too late, she wonders if she should have offered to get Zoe a drink too. Oh well.

She’s barely rounded the corner when she nearly collides with a woman absorbed by her phone. Once again, Cassie lifts her eyes to discover the woman is Lydia. This time Lydia notices Cassie though. She has no choice.

“Oh,” she finally mutters. “It’s you. Hello, Cathy.”

Cathy. Lydia has shared meals with Cassie, she’s humiliated her at a Halloween party, and she’s fought with her husband in front of her. Yet Lydia still hasn’t bothered to remember her name.

“Cassie,” Cassie says, although she’s not sure why she cares. Cathy is close enough.

“Right.” Lydia lowers her eyes and that’s when Cassie notices her eyes are rimmed with red. Like she’s been crying. “How are you?”

Cassie feels some of her irritation with Lydia fade away. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay,” Lydia snips at her.

“They’re very high strung at that Starbucks,” Cassie says in her most gentle voice.

Lydia rolls her eyes. “You think I’m upset about that?” “Well, I would be. In the same situation, I mean.”

Not that Cassie would ever be in a situation where she belittled the Starbucks barista until she got kicked out. But still.

“I couldn’t care less about that.” Lydia swipes at her eyes briefly. “Trust me.”

“Oh.” Cassie chews on her lip. “Well, in that case… is there anything… I mean, do you want to talk?”

Please say no. Please say no.

Lydia stares at her for a moment, as if considering her offer. She hesitates, her eyes growing sadder by the second. “No,” she finally says. “But… thank you.”

“Any time,” Cassie says.

Cassie hurries back to the store, but she’s still thinking about Lydia. The woman always seems so together, but in that moment, she seemed like she was falling apart. Then again, Lydia doesn’t need Cassie’s help. She’s got plenty of her own friends—namely, Francesca. And Anna, of course. But in that moment, Cassie would have thought Lydia didn’t have a friend in the world.

Zoe is perched at the door when Cassie returns. She’s already got her coat on as well as that funky pink hat with the brim. Zoe got the whole outfit at a thrift shop last week. She invited Cassie to come along, but Cassie didn’t have any money to spare. Even thrift shop money.

“You mind if I grab an early lunch?” Zoe asks.

“Sure,” Cassie says. “It’s not like we have any customers.”

Zoe’s eyes suddenly light up. “You know what would bring in customers?”

Cassie frowns. “No erotica.” They had discussed it several times and Cassie wasn’t going to budge.

“No, I’ve got an even better idea.” She pauses to build the drama while Cassie braces herself. “We should have a petting zoo.”

Cassie’s mouth falls open. “A… petting zoo?”

“Just a small one,” Zoe quickly amends. “Like, a few rabbits, a chicken… maybe a small goat.”

“A goat?”

“We’d put a diaper on the goat, of course,” she says, rolling her eyes. Of course.

“Zoe.” Cassie dog-ears a page in her book and puts it down. “I’m not letting a goat in our store. It will make a giant mess.”

“No, it won’t. That’s what the diaper is for.”

Cassie doesn’t know what to say to that. “We’re not having a petting zoo in the bookstore. That’s a terrible idea.”

“Fine.” Zoe sniffs. “But at least I’m coming up with ideas. You’re just sitting there, reading…” She peeks at the cover of Cassie’s paperback. “Wuthering Heights? God, how many times can you read that book?”

“It’s my favorite book. It’s the greatest love story of all time.” Zoe crinkles her nose. “What’s it about?”

“It’s about this man named Heathcliff,” Cassie says. “When he’s a child, he falls in love with a girl named Catherine. But they can’t be together, so he spends his life getting revenge on everyone who belittled him and kept them apart. And then when she dies, he begs for her spirit to remain on Earth—she may take whatever form she will, she may haunt him, drive him insane—just as long as she does not leave him alone.”

Zoe looks just as horrified as Cassie did by the idea of a goat in a diaper. “That is the greatest love story of all time? It sounds like a story about a psycho who gets obsessed. Sounds like my ex, Jack.”

“You have to read it to understand.”

Zoe shrugs. “Maybe I should write a story about how Jack followed me into the ladies’ room at that bar. Maybe that’ll be the new greatest love story of all time.”

Cassie rolls her eyes and doesn’t try to convince her further. Zoe just doesn’t get it. She doesn’t know about Bea and Marv meeting at that subway platform and bonding over the lost copy of Wuthering Heights. She doesn’t understand that kind of love. And while Cassie has never experienced that kind of love herself, she knows it exists. She longs for it.

When Zoe goes out for her lunch break, Cassie finds herself distracted from her favorite book. She’s thinking about Joel. If someone told the story of their courtship, would they call it the greatest love story ever told? Yes, he bought Wuthering Heights from her, but it was a gift for his mother. Then he asked her out on a date, and… well, they find each other attractive. They have a good sex life. They exchanged keys. He’s a Hot Doctor. He’s sweet, funny, responsible, and intelligent. He ticks off every box.

No, it’s not the greatest love story ever told. There have been no great romantic moments in their love story. It’s nothing like the greatest love story of all time—the book that brought Grandma Bea and Grandpa Marv together. But they’re good together. They’ve exchanged “I love you’s,” even though every time Cassie says it, she’s never quite sure if she means it.

The store is quiet now. Not one customer—that’s the whole problem. And now she’s in a bad situation, without many options.

“Tell me what to do,” Cassie whispers to the silence bookstore. “Grandma Bea?” She pauses. “Grandpa Marv?”

There is no response. The bookcase doesn’t open up a giant mouth and start dispensing wisdom. She still doesn’t know what the hell to do.

“Excuse me? Miss?”

Cassie hadn’t even heard the customer come into the store. She wipes her hands on her jeans and flashes her most friendly smile. She needs to make a sale. Selling anything would make her feel better. Since the New Year, things have been abysmal. And those gift cards that seemed like such a great idea back in December mean people are coming in here and leaving with books but not giving her any money.

“Can I help you?” Cassie asks the young man at the door.

He rubs at his red nose. “I hope so. Do you have a copy of Lippincott’s Microbiology?”

She should have known. When she saw this kid, she should have assumed he was just another med student looking for textbooks.

“Does this look like a medical bookstore?” she snaps at him. “Uh…” He looks around. “It looks like a bookstore.”

She shoots him a look. “Do you want any actual books?” He takes a step back. “I guess… not?”

The kid leaves the bookstore without buying anything. Her one customer of the day and she managed to yell at him. Great.

And then Cassie’s phone starts to ring. She pulls it out of her purse and looks at the number.

Her heart races. She shouldn’t take this call. She definitely shouldn’t. This is not a joke—she could end up behind bars. But what else can she do? If she doesn’t go through with this, the store is done.

She presses the green button to take the call.