No Other Love

by Harper Bliss

  “As long as it’s actually running.” Annie adjusted the heat underneath the sauce a little. Sometimes she wondered if her infatuation with Kristin was inspired by what she had done for the book shop. Kristin Park had saved Annie’s Book Shop. There were no two ways about it.

  “Nothing is rewarding without a proper challenge once in a while. That’s the very nature of entrepreneurship—and life,” Kristin said. She put a poussin—Annie recognized it from MasterChef—on every plate and dressed it with lettuce leaves and spinach and something cube-like—as though she was creating a work of art. “Is the sauce ready?”

  Kristin wasn’t going to take Annie’s word for it and dipped a teaspoon into the saucepan to taste. “Okay. Good job, sous-chef,” she said, but she didn’t appear to have any time left for smiles. She grabbed the saucepan and artistically drizzled its contents onto the plates. “If you could grab two of these and bring them out.”

  Such natural authority. Annie walked into the living room with the plates, to which she had contributed next to nothing. Had Kristin really needed her to heat up that sauce, or had Annie been allowed into her kitchen for other reasons?

  “Everything has changed,” Jane said. She’d had the better half of the second bottle of wine Kristin had poured. “No publisher would want to publish all the books I write, and I wouldn’t blame them. The business model I’m using would be impossible for a publisher, because they have many authors to take care of, and I can just take care of me, which is how I like it.”

  “Doesn’t it get lonely? Having to do everything yourself and having only yourself to rely on?” Sheryl asked. “I’d go crazy if I couldn’t go out and teach and meet with my students or just simply be at the university. Having to write a paper, which is a big part of my job, drives me mad most of the time.”

  “I can attest to that,” Kristin said.

  Annie had had her fair share of wine as well and it was as though, with every sip, Kristin became even more appealing. Those dark, dark eyes. Her well-sculpted hair, which still looked exactly the same as when they’d arrived, even though she had presented them all with a feast. But even more than that, the way she talked. When she made a quip about Sheryl, you could hear the love for her partner in her words. The admiration she had for the woman she’d been with for so long. Annie couldn’t help a pang of jealousy cropping up the next time she looked Sheryl in the eye.

  “I think it’s fairly common knowledge that I don’t like people very much, so no, I don’t get lonely. As long as I get to see people socially. Friends, I mean. Not just anyone.” Jane raised her glass. “To new friends.”

  If only she knew. Annie joined her wife in a toast to Sheryl and Kristin and their budding friendship.

  “And successful business alliances,” Kristin said.

  “Not so much for me, sadly,” Sheryl said. “Now that you’ve had a few, Jane. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to do that lecture, after all?”

  Annie couldn’t quite believe how easily Sheryl joked about Jane being under the influence.

  Jane slanted her neck. “I’m sorry. No amount of alcohol is enough to make me do that.”

  Annie, who was sitting across from Kristin, glanced at the Pink Bean owner while her wife and Sheryl continued their banter. Kristin held up her glass and Annie gladly clinked hers against it again.

  “Thank you so much for this meal and for everything you’ve done for the book shop.”

  “You make it sound like charity,” Kristin said in her business-like voice, snapping Annie out of her reverie once again. All that wine would soon make her believe Kristin had chosen her book shop for a second Pink Bean branch simply because it was Annie’s. “It was a business decision.”

  “But still.” Annie tried the smile of which Jane had told her many times that it made her look irresistible.

  Just then, Jane looked at her and, after a beat of silence, said, “I wouldn’t be the writer I am today if it weren’t for Annie and her belief in me.”

  Annie turned to face Jane, not only to thank her for what she’d just said, but also to make sure that from that angle she hadn’t been able to see the full-wattage smile she had just sent in Kristin’s direction.

  “Isn’t that what wives are for?” Annie’s voice sounded too sweet. She felt caught out. She reached for her now empty wine glass. “To support each other through the hard times?” Then again, she’d supported Jane through many a hard time—and not only financially difficult ones. In her inebriated state, Annie believed she could afford to send another woman that particular smile.

  “Oh, yes,” Sheryl said, and put a hand on Kristin’s shoulder. “I’ve put mine through her paces as well.” She gave Kristin a loving, very-unlike-Sheryl look.

  “And we’re not even legally married,” Kristin said drily.

  They all burst out into a chuckle. Annie was happy to have a laugh because she needed something to reduce the tension building inside of her. She wasn’t sure she would be able to sit through another dinner like this and not give herself away.

  Chapter Eight

  Jane had added one measly chapter to her work in progress during the past week. Over the years, she had trained herself to produce new words every day except Monday—that was her and Annie’s day—even during launch week, when the nervous energy that came with releasing a new book exhausted her and made her unable to think of much else. The launch of this book, however, she used as the perfect excuse to procrastinate more. To hell with that first draft. She had another book in third draft on which she should spend some time and another one that had just come back from her editor. She figured she might have a bit too much on her plate right now, anyway, and she’d start again on the first draft next week, after this book signing was over.

  When she was still with her publisher, Jane had had no choice but be a good sport about these things and turn up for all the events her publisher set up—back in the day when niche publishers actually still had time and money to make that sort of effort. Once, she had even done a local radio interview and had been ambushed into reading an excerpt from a very erotic short story she’d written, live on air.

  She was being an equally good sport today by doing this book signing. She didn’t much feel like it, although that was hardly a surprise. Jane didn’t like diverting from her routine, but then again, she’d been diverting from it so much of late—mainly by not being able to add enough fresh words to her ruthless word count tally—she might as well continue to do so. On top of that, something was up with Annie, but she didn’t quite know what. She was hiding something and Jane fervently hoped it wasn’t some kind of surprise to be sprung upon her at the book signing.

  When Jane entered the shop, Mia was talking to Lou. They both walked over to her, arms spread, getting ready to hug her as if it was her birthday. Jane had to admit it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling to have Mia’s admiration.

  “Lou,” Jane said after the hugs had been dispensed with, “please help me keep your girlfriend in line so she doesn’t proposition me to do in-person events every time we’re alone in the shop.”

  “I’d rather she propose those than anything else,” Lou said. “She’s been devouring your books and I don’t know where this fan-girl-ship will end.” Lou gave her a wide smile. They made a dazzling pair.

  Jane chuckled. “We should both endeavor to keep her in check then.” She glanced at the pair of them again, their young love and blatant happiness mellowing her—and spurring her on to look for her wife and throw her arms around her.

  Because love was all Jane wrote about. Describing the ins and outs of love was her bread and butter. The various ways in which it could manifest itself, lead to trouble, hurt characters and, ultimately, make them face the music and bring them together, was what she worked on all day. It was a privilege to be a chronicler of love in all its forms and, Jane had to admit, it was an equal privilege to be here. Maybe she should have let Mia throw her a proper book launch party after all—but then she wou
ld have had to do a reading and Jane simply wasn’t cut out for those. Her personality and voice weren’t right for conveying the emotions she put in her books.

  Annie and Kristin were discussing something in quiet voices near the coffee machine. Jane had noticed that Annie spoke to Kristin in a different voice than her usual one. The one Jane was so used to and was such a part of her life. Perhaps only she could recognize a slight shift in tone and a different cadence to her words. When she talked to Kristin, Annie seemed to mimic Kristin’s quiet, soft-spoken manner of speaking, which was a bit disconcerting to hear, because Annie could be such a loudmouth sometimes.

  Annie must have felt Jane looking, because their gazes locked and Annie seemed surprised at first to catch her wife looking at her from a few feet away, but then waved at her anyway. It was all Jane needed. Just a reminder that it had been the two of them together for such a long time. The two of them beating the odds because when Jane was in her twenties a twelve-year age gap was considered too much by many—her parents included. Which was nothing compared to the challenges that arose later.

  Jane shook off the memory of that particularly shameful bit of her past, and refocused on the task at hand. She’d stacked a bunch of copies of her new book on a table. Mia had insisted they put the table next to “her” display of books. Jane leaned against the table and let Taylor top up her glass of bubbly, of which she wasn’t sure she was even allowed to drink it in the shop anymore, now that it was also a coffee shop without a liquor license.

  Jane hadn’t really had the chance to get to know Taylor better. She wondered if she liked her books. She looked so intense, she probably read Proust before bed instead of lesbian romance.

  Jane thanked Taylor and guessed that with the champagne and her new book on display like that, it was a bit of a book launch party, without the annoying reading bit.

  Even though the signing officially only started at seven, a few customers had already arrived. They were not regulars because then they would know that the shop wasn’t usually open at this time. They were shuffling closer to the table now. It was all about to kick off. A tingle took root in Jane’s stomach. These people were here because of words she’d strung together. Sometimes, that was the hardest of all to believe.

  The browsing twosome approached the table and gave her a couple of shy smiles. Jane knew all about shy smiles—they were something she could work with—and she smiled back, ready to start. If these people had turned up here especially for her and to get her scribble imprinted in a book they’d paid good money for, Jane had no choice but to give all she had. She’d be spent tomorrow, but tonight, she would put on a bright smile and every word she spoke, she would mean from the bottom of her heart.

  Jane didn’t know how many books she’d signed, but the two stacks next to her had almost dwindled to nothing. She had no idea of the time, but she could feel the pleasant buzz of exhaustion running through her veins. Whoever believed that emotional fatigue wasn’t a thing, should take her vitals right about now.

  Because alcohol was being poured, people lingered, and by the time Jane took a second break to stretch her legs, she had concluded it was a full-on book launch party. She would need to have a word with Mia about that. Then again, she had given Mia full control. Jane hadn’t had to lift a finger, as promised. All she’d had to do was sign a few books. Jane wondered if Mia had spoken about her plans with Annie behind her back, and whether Annie had deliberately kept things from her. But it didn’t really matter. She gave her shoulder a tension-releasing roll while Amber, Lou’s boss at the yoga studio she worked at, ambled up to her.

  “I know a good exercise for releasing tension from the very spot that’s killing you right now,” she said.

  Jane looked at her. “Please, show me.”

  “Well, maybe after that queue at the table has gone. Unless you want to give your fans a little extra by getting down on all fours in front of them.”

  Jane eyed the short line that had formed again. “I’d best get to it then. Please, don’t leave before you’ve shared your much-needed knowledge.”

  Amber put a hand over her heart. “You have my word.”

  Jane sat behind the table again and launched into the last stretch of her signing performance of the night—she would run out of books soon enough. She had ordered the usual amount for the shop, which had never sold out before. Maybe Mia truly was a marketing genius, because Jane was about to break a paperback sales record tonight. And the book had only just come out. She only hoped she’d have enough for the people still lining up. She had a couple more copies upstairs. She could always run up and get those.

  “Looks like I’ve caught the last one,” a woman said.

  Oh shit, Jane thought and, in her worry about getting more books, didn’t recognize the voice. She looked around for Annie, who was working the till. She’d run up and get the extra copies herself, unless this woman was in fact the last person in line.

  Jane looked up and stared straight into Beth’s face. Christ. She was happy to be sitting down. Was Annie looking over? If Beth actually bought the book she was holding, she would need to pass by Annie either way. And the evening had been going so well.

  “Any chance of an autograph?” Beth planted her hands on the table.

  “You can’t be here.” Jane tried to keep her voice calm.

  “Really? Since when have my movements become restricted? I wasn’t aware you could tell me where I can and can’t be.” She leaned over the table, smiling.

  “I’m sorry. You’re putting me in a very difficult position. I don’t mean to be rude.”

  “I’m a paying customer, Jane. Do you really want to show me the door?”

  Now that the shock was starting to wear off, Jane got her wits back and asked the only question she needed an answer to. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just a coincidence, I swear to you, Janey.”

  “Please don’t call me that.” Jane rose, because she felt too small sitting down like that with Beth towering over her.

  “I was in the neighborhood. I just went to the cinema down the street. I walked past the shop and saw there was a Jane Quinn event happening. I thought I’d stop by and say hello. It’s been a while.”

  “It has been a while.” Dread settled in the pit of Jane’s stomach—because she was reminded of what she’d stood to lose because of Beth. “You caught me by surprise.”

  Beth pursed her lips together. “That was kind of the idea, which, admittedly, is a little cruel on my part. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. It was like I was being dragged inside by a force outside myself. But you’re right, I probably shouldn’t be here. I never wished you any harm, Jane. Not then and not now. On the contrary.” She put the book down. “Maybe I’ll leave the last copy for someone else.”

  Beth shot her a smile that seemed to break Jane’s heart all over again—or, at the very least, caused enough self-pity to well up inside her to make her feel as if it was.

  But it was better this way. Even though Jane knew, deep down, there was no way Annie hadn’t witnessed this short exchange. She might be busy—selling Jane’s books—but the cash register wasn’t that far away.

  “Bye,” was all Jane could say. She took a deep breath before turning around and looking her wife in the eye.

  Chapter Nine

  What was Beth Walsh doing in the shop? Annie was rendered speechless as well as motionless because she once again believed, if only for a split second, that she was losing Jane. By the time anger took over and she made it over to Jane, Beth was out the door.

  When she stood face-to-face with Jane, in that instant of muteness before either one of them knew what to say, she was brusquely reminded of how painful it can be for a partner when someone else comes into play. Annie swore there and then she would get herself in check and stop thinking about Kristin so much. It was ridiculous, anyway. She was a fifty-seven year old woman. She wasn’t prone to crushes anymore. She was being utterly foolish.

&nbs
p; “I’m sorry, babe. I had no idea she would turn up. I certainly didn’t invite her,” Jane rambled. “She was just walking past. You know I have nothing to do with her anymore.”

  “I know.” Rationally, Annie did know, but emotionally, it had been shocking to see them together again after all this time. “It’s okay.”

  Jane didn’t say anything. Maybe she accepted it was okay, or maybe she didn’t know what to say.

  Annie felt it was her job to reassure her wife. “Truly. It’s fine. She’s gone. Let’s enjoy the last of the evening. My till has been doing overtime. I’m already thinking about the next book signing.” Annie gave her wife a reassuring smile. “And don’t worry. You can be a relaxed bystander at that one.”

  “Caitlin James?” Jane asked.

  “I was just talking to Kristin.” A pang of guilt again. “According to her Caitlin is up for it.”

  “That’s great.” Jane looked at the table she’d been sitting at for the better part of the evening. Annie had often glanced over and, apart from just a few moments ago, had been bursting with pride to be able to call herself Jane Quinn’s wife. “I only have one copy left of Hearts on Fire. I was just thinking about going upstairs and fetching the ones I keep in my office.”

  “I’ll take care of that if needed.” They looked around the shop together. “It’s been a good night.” Annie brought a hand to Jane’s hair and let her fingers run through the fine strands of it. Jane’s hair was always so soft. She couldn’t get enough of touching it. “I’m proud of you.” Annie kissed Jane on the cheek.

  “Thanks.” Jane leaned into her. “I feel like we should give Mia a percentage of tonight’s sales. It was her idea.”