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Juliet’s find with envy. “Oh, Vanessa Valentine. I haven’t read that one.”
    The woman was married and in her fifties. Why was she reading romance novels?
    â€œI’ll lend it to you when I’m done,” Juliet promised.
    Rita Reyes, who’d worked in the bar at Zelda’s restaurant, entered the room. She said a quick hi to Jonathan, then moved to join Juliet and Hildy in their treasure hunt. “I hope you haven’t taken all the good books.”
    â€œWe saved you a few,” Juliet assured her. “When’s Zelda’s going to open again?”
    â€œCharley says by June.”
    â€œI hope so,” Juliet said. “I miss those huckleberry martinis.”
    â€œAnd I miss working there.” Rita sighed. “I’ll be so glad when we’re up and running again.”
    A fire in December had forced the restaurant to close; it was now in the process of being rebuilt. Zelda’s was a popular place in town for both families and singles wanting to mix and match. Jonathan hadn’t gone there much.
    Rita pointed to the book in Juliet’s hand. “I love that one. James Noble is the perfect man.”
    The perfect man, huh? A character made up by a woman? Oh, brother.
    â€œLook! Here’s Surrender, ” Rita said, pulling a paperback off a shelf. “I love this book.”
    A war novel in the romance section? Jonathan edged closer and sneaked a peek. He saw no scene of carnage on the cover, no white flag being raised—only a woman in a low-cut dress and some muscle-bound guy in tights and a shirt he forgot to button doing a back bend over the kind of fancy bed no man would want to sleep in. Looking at the way the guy was holding her made Jonathan’s back hurt.
    â€œOh, my gosh, me, too,” agreed Juliet. “There’s a hero to die for. I love the scene where he throws himself in front of her and gets stabbed.”
    â€œAnd how often does that happen in real life?” Jonathan scoffed under his breath.
    The women stared at him as if he’d uttered blasphemy.
    Juliet raised a delicate eyebrow. “Probably as often as a giant bubble floats to earth and gives magical powers to the first fool who touches it.”
    Rita snickered and Jonathan, properly chastised and feeling like he’d stuck his face in a firepit, moved to a safer corner of the room and perused the home improvement section.
    Turning his back on Juliet and her fellow romance junkies didn’t shield his ears from their conversation.
    â€œMen,” Rita said disgustedly. “Maybe if they read a few romance novels they’d learn something.”
    â€œNils could stand to learn a few things,” Hildy said. “Especially in the bedroom,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper that carried across the small, now quiet—since everyone was eavesdropping—room.
    Balding, scrawny Nils and Brunhilda Hildy in the bedroom together. That was T.M.I. to the max.
    â€œOh, they all think they’re such good lovers.” Rita rolled her eyes. Rita was divorced. Obviously, her man hadn’t measured up. “If I found a man who could make love like the heroes in those books, I’d take him to bed in a heartbeat.”
    â€œIf a man really wanted to be a good lover, he should read these books,” Hildy continued in her stage whisper.
    Rita nodded. “That would guarantee he’d get lucky.”
    The women finished making their selections. As they went to pay for their books, two gray-haired men and a teenage boy stampeded to the romance section.
    Jonathan paid for his book and then left the room with Juliet, who was now wearing a superior smirk.
    â€œPathetic,” Jonathan muttered.
    â€œYou shouldn’t knock romance novels if you haven’t read them,” she said as they walked out of the library and turned toward Bavarian Brews for their ritual post-shopping coffee.
    â€œI guess,” he said. “But