Too many honeyed memories crowded out the worry. I didn't even care that I was an hour and a half late; my very joints felt oiled with pleasure.Regrettably, the scene that greeted me broke the mood.I found Marianne berating Keith, our foot-fond assistant, for mis-shelving some books.'How many times do I have to tell you? The big names go cover out.''But I didn't know.' Keith's face was pink. He gripped the sales counter as though it were his only shield. Perhaps it was. He might be six foot something and a competitive rower, but he was a nice boy, the kind who would never hit a woman, no matter what. Unfortunately for him, Marianne looked ready to vault over the counter and claw him - leather miniskirt and all.'How could you not know?' she demanded, her voice loud enough to turn customers' heads. 'Nora Roberts is one of the biggest names there is.''Marianne,' I said, using the tone I reserved for misbehaving children and dogs. It wasn't nice, but it worked. She spun around to face me, frustration written in every line of her pale, skillfully powdered face.'But he -'I pointed towards the office.
