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a black credit card out of his wallet.
    Rebecca's hand faltered for a moment before reaching for the card and letting her fingers gently graze the back of the customer's hand. Julia watched as Rebecca's eyes flickered to his. Did she just bat her eyelashes at him?
    "Mr. Albertson," Rebecca actually cooed, obviously reading his name off the card. "It's so nice of you to stop into the store. Perhaps you'd like a personal guided tour next time you visit us?"
    "I'm afraid I'm not in the area too often."
    "I'd be happy to show you around the neighborhood tonight if you'd like. I know all the most intimate places a guest in the area may not get to explore." Rebecca leaned forward slightly, her ample cleavage pointed directly at her customer.
    He raised an eyebrow and held her hand for a moment before taking his card back. "That sounds very intriguing."
    Julia scooped the heavy books into her arms and retreated from the conversation, suddenly feeling awkward and intrusive. What Rebecca did with customers was her business. Julia had no desire to get involved.
    She read the first title on the top of the pile: How to Design the Garden of Your Dreams. Sounded perfectly lovely, but not for her—she hated gardening. Sure, everyone enjoyed gazing at pretty flowers growing in artful arrangements in flowerbeds and a beautifully manicured lawn. If she was the one who had to tend them, pick the weeds, and water them regularly, they were likely to be shriveled and sun-baked by the end of the first week.
    Sighing, she remembered she wasn't shopping for herself. She was working—with a boss so hot she wanted to tackle him to the floor in the middle of the reference section and have an encore presentation of their first night together.
    Stop. Forget about him being anything to you other than a boss.
    She sighed, resigning herself to knowing Chase and she just weren't going to happen. The sooner she got over him, the better off she'd be. Forcing herself to concentrate on work, she trudged through the store still looking for the right section.
    Julia rolled her shoulders back and stretched her neck from one side to the other, urging the tiredness out of her sore muscles. Her next trip would definitely be with the cart. Of course, she'd probably have to dump half the books onto the floor just so she'd be able to push the cumbersome trolley.
    As she wandered around the store, she realized how different the layout was from the usual giant bookstores she was accustomed to. Instead of the large open floor plans, this place had multiple small rooms, and each contained a different genre or reference section. Not to mention the store was three floors high and had a rooftop terrace café. Good thing the place had an elevator or she'd need a personal trainer just to make it through a whole day of work without collapsing.
    Julia finally found the gardening section on the first floor. She needed to ask Rebecca for a map so she could find her way around. Or maybe she should leave herself a trail of breadcrumbs. It would take her all day to learn the layout of the store. Good luck to the customer who asked her where something was—she might accidentally send the poor soul to erotica when they were really looking for science fiction.
    She scanned the rows of book spines trying to decide where the book in her hand should go on the shelf. Was this section organized by author or title? She was used to navigating the Dewey Decimal system the campus library used, but this system was trickier to figure out.
    Shrugging, she shoved the book into the shelf between two other how-to books. If the book still wasn't in the right spot, at least it was close enough. She glanced down at the next book on top of her pile: Nourishing Your Inner Vegan . Awesome. Another random section to find.
    "I need a book on children's gardening projects for Nanny," a stern voice said behind her.
    Julia turned to see a woman with features so chiseled she could've been made out of marble. The