Page 12 of Safe With You

I spent so many years attached to unpredictability that routine eventually started feeling like peace.

“Your phone,” Naomi sang from across the room.

I looked down automatically.

A new email notification sat at the top of the screen.

From: Ellis Monroe.

My stomach did something small and annoying.

“You are not about to act nervous over a photographer,” I whispered to myself.

“What was that?” Naomi called.

“Nothing.”

“Mhm.”

I opened the email.

Hi Luna,

Thanks for reaching out. I’m available tomorrow evening and would love to help if you still need coverage for the event.

I’ve photographed a few spoken word and community events before, so the setting sounds right up my alley. If you want, send over a few details regarding timing, attendance, and overall vibe, and I can send pricing information afterward.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

Best,

Ellis Monroe

I read the email twice. There was something unexpectedly calming about his straightforwardness.

“You smiling?” Naomi asked immediately.

I looked up sharply. “Why are you watching me?”

“Because I know your face.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“You like him already.”

I almost choked on air. “I have literally never spoken to this man.”

“That has never stopped women before.”

I rolled my eyes and walked toward the back office before she could continue embarrassing me in front of customers.

The tiny office behind the storage room had become my escape space over the years. It wasn’t much—just a cramped desk buried beneath inventory sheets, event calendars, sticky notes, and a coffee mug I’d forgotten to take home days ago—but it was the only place in the bookstore where I could hear myself think. The muffled chatter from the café blended with the rustle of turning pages on the sales floor, familiar enough to settle my nerves.

I sat down in the chair and, against my better judgment, clicked back onto Ellis’s website.

More specifically, the About page.

Naomi would’ve been insufferable if she knew.