She traced the edge of the book cover over and over, a silent mantra as she waited. Each sound sharp but distant. Finally she heard what she had been waiting for. The latch on the door lifted and the chimes built into the hinge played their melodramatic tune. Isabella opened her eyes, fingers curling around the book as she lifted it to her chest and stood in one fluid motion.<br/><br/>The shop smelled of old books and the lavender scented wax she used liberally on every bit of wood in the place until it all gleamed. Scattered in the display cases were volumes valued more for their beauty than their scholarly content. The sorts the Ladies often came in to purchase. The other types of volumes she carried, the ones she specialized in, were rarely out of their locked cases tucked in here and there throughout the store. She also carried other oddities: trinkets and artifacts of places long forgotten.<br/><br/>"I was beginning to wonder if you had changed your mind," said as she moved behind the counter, laying the book on the beveled glass top that separated them. Only then did she lift her twilight eyes to his.