"Roberts, Nora - A Matter of Choice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)

The library. He caught the scent of old leather and dust as he looked on
the largest private collection of books he'd ever seen. For the first
time since he had walked into Dodson's office, Slade felt a stir of
pleasure. A quick study told him that the books were well read as well
as carelessly filed. He crossed the room and mounted the two stairs to
the second level. Not filed at all, he corrected, but simply jumbled. He
ran a long finger along a row of volumes. Robert Burns tilted onto a
copy of Kurt Vonnegut.

A big job, he concluded. One he might have enjoyed if it had been his
only purpose. He took one long look around before absently pulling out a
book. There was nothing he could do about Jessica Winslow at the moment,
he thought as he settled down to read.

Jessica swerved into the parking area beside her shop, relieved to see
it empty. She was late, but her client was later. Or, she thought with a
frown, he'd grown tired of waiting and left. With a half-hearted oath,
she hurried to unlock the front door. Quickly she went from window to
window, letting the shades snap up. Without slackening pace, she headed
for the back room, tossed her purse aside, then filled a small kettle
with water. She gave the struggling ivy in the rear window a quick douse
before setting the kettle on the stove. Halfway out of the room, she
went back to turn the burner on underneath it. Satisfied, she wandered
into the main shop.

It wasn't large--but then Jessica had never intended it to be. Intimate,
personal. Yes, it was that, she thought, with her signature on it. The
shop was more than a business to her; it was an accomplishment, and a
love. The business end--invoices, filing, books--she ran meticulously.
All of her organizational efforts went into the shop, which perhaps was
the reason for her lack of order elsewhere.

The shop was the focus of her life, and had been since she'd conceived
of it. Initially she'd needed something to give some purpose to her life
after college was behind her. The idea for the shop had germinated
slowly, then had grown and developed. Jessica had too much drive, too
much energy, to drift. Once she had decided to start a business, she'd
moved quickly. Then that same drive and energy had made it work. It
turned a profit. The money itself meant little, but the fact that her
shop made it, meant everything.

She'd spent six months scouring New England, then Europe, for the right
pieces. A large inventory hadn't been her goal, but an exclusive one.
After her opening the response had begun as a small trickle, mostly
friends and friends of friends. Justice Winslow's daughter running a
shop had brought out the curiosity seekers as well. Jessica hadn't
minded. A client was a client, and a satisfied one, the best
advertising.

For the first two years she'd run the shop alone. Indeed, she had never