Andries. (Van Den Bosch Book 2) by Melanie Martins

Author:Melanie Martins [Martins, Melanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: VAN DEN BOSCH BOOK 2
Published: 2022-09-13T00:00:00+00:00

It’s almost time for me to leave the office when my iPhone rings. It’s a nice change from the office phone that has been screaming at me all day, but when I see my sister's name on the screen, I have a moment of nervousness. I’ve been stressed about the news story about Karl and my agency affecting Lili and her bookstore, but nonetheless, I have to answer.

“Roxie,” Lili blurts out as soon as the call connects. “Can you come to the bookstore? It’s an emergency.”

My skin prickles. “An emergency? What do you mean?”

“Just come on!” Lili insists. “I’ll explain when you get here.”

“Lili––” Before I can say anything the line goes dead. Angrily I toss my phone down on my desk and rub my temples, trying to dispel some of the tension that has been building all day.

I have no choice but to go, but it’d have been nice to know what kind of shit show I was walking into. With my nerves raw and my mind exhausted, I grab my bag and leave, telling Poppy to lock up on her way out.

I get to the bookshop in record time. From outside, nothing looks amiss. No reporters or journalists, no caution tape or fire trucks… nothing. It looks quiet, and that almost makes me more uneasy. Whatever is waiting for me inside is a complete mystery.

As I grab the handle of the door, it pushes open from inside, and Lili slides outs of the doorway, only opening it enough to fit her body out of the gap before shutting it again. I back up a few steps, crossing my arms when I notice the sheepish look on her face.

“What exactly is going on, Lili? What emergency?”

“You’ll thank me later.” She presses the keys to the store into my hands. “Just lock up when you’re done, okay?”

Completely bewildered, I enter the dark bookshop. Instead of a fire, flood, or some other sort of disaster, there’s a man waiting for me, tall and with his hands clasped behind his back. When he turns to me, my heartbeat kicks up into a gallop, and it feels like the floor has dropped out from underneath me.

“Andries,” I breathe, my mouth suddenly dry. “Wh—what are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you in private,” he explains, pacing slowly in my direction. “Somewhere neutral, so I asked your sister what she thought, and she suggested using the bookshop.”

His expression is guarded, as if he expects me to just walk out the door without saying a single word. Maybe if I was tougher, I would, but there isn’t an ounce of anger in him that I can detect, and that’s a complete departure from our last face-to-face meeting.

“Okay,” I acquiesce. “What did you want to talk about?”

The breath he lets out is enormous, his shoulders sinking with the size of it. “Ah, fuck, Roxie. Everything. Nothing. I don’t even know.” He clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

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