Situated in Lisbon, your usual customers were English tourists or the old ladies across the street selling flowers and whatnot. When you glanced up as the bell chimed, the man stepping into your quaint bookshop was not someone you'd expect in here.

If he weren't so good-looking you might even be a bit on edge.

His hair was slicked back neatly, and he wore an expensive sort of jacket despite the warmth outside. You bid him good day and he sent a fleeting smile.

When he returned after a few minutes with a book from the English section — Giovanni's Room — something in your chest flustered. A man looking like that, interested in literature like this? It was unheard of...

Good thing you weren't planning on letting him leave without some chit-chat.