Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“He might be married, and I will probably never see him again.” I glance at the boxes we need to unpack before turning my attention back to her. “That spot is one of the best I’ve found in the city, so I’m going back tomorrow.”
“Good. You’re returning to the scene of the crime.”
I let out a light laugh. “What crime?”
“The one where the handsome man who lost a key had his breath stolen away by you.”
I don’t have a response other than a soft smile, because in some small way, I wish that were true.
It’s been days since Berk Morgan left my store, but he hasn’t left my mind. It’s not just the way he looks that has kept him in my thoughts. He dropped three hundred dollars in my donation jar without hesitation, and he went on a treasure hunt around New York City to track down something that meant everything to his daughter.
I need to push those thoughts aside and forget about him because I’ve lived in Manhattan long enough to know that all the good men are taken.
“I was beginning to think you had retired.”
I turn at the sound of Lester’s voice. “I’m only twenty-five. I think I have a few good years left.”
He laughs. “Don’t we all?”
Sliding my leather jacket back on, I smile. “I was here on Saturday morning.”
He glances at a man rushing past him with his phone to his ear. Whoever is on the other end of the call is getting a verbal berating. It’s an all too common sight on this subway platform on any given weekday morning.
Lester clucks his tongue. “If people like that would take a breath before they hit connect on their phones, the world would be a better place.”
I can’t argue that point, so I nod. “Agreed.”
“I had the pleasure of a rare Saturday off,” he explains. “And Sunday and Monday.”
“Happy long weekend to you!” I pat his shoulder. “Did you do something fun?”
“I took a walk in Central Park.” He accentuates that by tapping two of his fingertips to his palm before he moves them forward in a stepping motion as if he’s immersed in a game of charades with me. “Then good Italian food and a movie at my favorite theater.”
“I’m jealous.” I laugh. “I’ve been waist-deep in records for the past few days. Eloise and I sorted through boxes and boxes.”
“Anything I might like?” he quizzes with a raise of his graying brows.
My gaze wanders from his face to a man standing behind him.
I stare, unsure if I see a mirage or if Berk Morgan is ten feet away from me with a soft smile on his full lips.
I’ve been here for over an hour and secretly hoped that I’d see him again.
“Astrid?” Lester taps my hand. “Do you think I should stop by the store tonight and have a look at the new inventory?”
I drag my eyes back to his face. “Yes. I think I have something you’ll like.”
“I’ll see you before eight,” he says before he walks away.
I shift my gaze back to Berk. He looks just as ridiculously handsome as he did the last time I saw him.
Today, he’s wearing a black sweater and charcoal gray pants.
It doesn’t hurt to look at a married man, does it?
“Astrid,” he says my name softly as he approaches me. “We meet again.”
“The third time is the charm,” I say without thinking.
I may not believe in love at third sight, but like at third sight is a thing. I’m experiencing it now.
He nods. “I’m on my way to grab a coffee before work. It looks like I just missed hearing you sing.”
I glance down at my guitar case. A few bills and coins litter the bottom of it.
“You did.” I tilt my head. “I had to cut my session short today. I need to open my store. Sometimes my cousin does it, but she has an early class today, so duty calls.”
Way to ramble, Astrid.
One of his dark brows perks. “You own the record store?”
I smile. “I do.”
He scrubs the back of his neck with his hand. “I’ll have to stop by again sometime.”
My heart hammers away in my chest, threatening to burst free. “Are you team vinyl too? Streaming services are great, but nothing beats listening to a record.”
His eyes lock on mine. “Great minds think alike, right?”
I nod with a million unasked questions perched on my tongue about whether he’s married, what his favorite genre of music is, and how his daughter reacted when he returned the diary key to her.
“I should run,” he says, pointing to the exit. “I’ll see you soon, Astrid.”
“Soon,” I repeat back, hoping that means today, but knowing that in life, nothing is promised to anyone.
Chapter Seven
Berk
“You’re late,” my assistant, Dinah Hosek, says as she drops her purse on her desk.