by Jane Cousins
Nothing, absolutely nothing could rain on her parade today. Reaching over she rearranged her folders, absently opening the piece of paper she’d plucked from the Kris Kringle bag – Cullen. Seriously? Of all the names to choose. How unfair Fate was. She was going to have to buy the man a gift for Christmas.
Scrunching the paper into a ball she threw it in the trash. Well, fine, she wouldn’t shirk tradition. In fact, suddenly Patricia found herself smiling, maybe it was rather apropos that she buy Lester Cullen something, a goodbye gift.
Chapter Two
“And what story have you chosen to read today?”
Cullen’s gaze swept up over Patricia Bennett’s elegant form. She was wearing cream wide legged trousers and a short sleeved filmy coffee coloured blouse. Her wavy mane of sable hair was loose, falling to her shoulders. And Cullen wasn’t at all surprised to note she was wearing three inch wedge sandals, probably just for his benefit. Little did she know how much he liked the idea of her looming over him. “Couldn’t stay away from me, hmm?”
“Just doing my duty. I’m on the ICMDP committee. And what with today being our big program launch, and knowing how much this means to Great-Uncle Nestor, whose heading it up, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Have you met Nestor?”
“Yes, when I arrived. He seems very… intense.”
“He just wants today’s launch to be perfect. A lot is riding on this program. And of course given how invested the High Council is in it, and that Nestor is reporting directly to them… well, no pressure.”
“Perhaps, given how important this storytelling exercise seems to be to everyone, you might have seen fit to choose a staff member with a little more… experience than me to kick things off?”
Patricia shrugged casually. “Luck of the draw. Besides, someone has to go first. Okay, I need to finish laying out the morning tea for the adults. You’d better decide what story you’re going to wow the babies with.”
“Hold on. Am I being left alone with the infants?”
“Well, yes. This program is as much about giving the new mothers a safe place to share any challenges they are facing and seek support as it is about the children. Don’t worry. We’ll just be over there.” Patricia pointed to a table laden with muffins, biscuits and a tea set. “Nestor will be keeping a careful eye on you from afar, so if you are in need of help, all you have to do is ask.”
Damn, Cullen watched Patricia saunter away, there was a distinct jaunty smugness to her stride. She thought she had him over a barrel. That if he failed here, with Nestor watching, who had a direct line into the High Council, then his suitability to operate the Library Annexe would be called into question. Huh, not going to happen. He could do this. How hard could it be to read a story to two infants? If he was lucky, the little buggers would do nothing more than drool and sleep through the entire event.
Wandering over to the raised small stage, Cullen couldn’t help but admire the set up in here. The Children’s Wing was exceedingly well laid out. Divided into areas that would appeal to different age groups. There were play areas. Relaxation spaces. Study areas. All decorated in a fun manner. He especially liked the carved wooden sentries that guarded the tops of the bookcases; dragons, knights and warriors abounded.
The small raised stage was located half way between the toddler section and the area aimed at pre-school children. The four wooden posts holding it aloft were expertly carved, depicting an assortment of cute magical creatures. Cullen imagined it would be the perfect spot for a puppet show, a small play or in his case, where the storyteller could sit so that all the kids would be able to see.
Cullen decided it would be overkill for him to sit up there today, instead he sat on the edge of the stage and surveyed the pile of books someone had thankfully left there. The covers seemed pretty self-explanatory. Puppy plays with a ball. Kittens get into mischief. Tommy discovers shapes and colours. Not exactly what he’d consider riveting reading, but for the under four-month-old crowd, he was betting this was their jam.
Cullen was just reaching for the book on top of the pile, assuming one book would be as good as the next, when some instinct had him hesitating. It was too easy. Arrive, read a couple of books, entertain some infants, giving the new mothers thirty minutes of respite to drink some tea and eat biscuits. Anyone could do it.
No, there had to be a catch somewhere. Hmm, for the first time Cullen shifted his attention to the two infants strapped into bassinets facing the stage. Their mothers currently beside them, keeping them entertained.
The baby on the left, a boy, given the glaringly white sailor suit with navy trim, appeared normal, at first glance. His mother, a plump blonde in a fitted low cut blue top, and flowing long skirt hovered over the baby, fussing. Trying her best to get her son to leave the tiny sailor cap on his head alone, even as she plucked at the baby blanket covering him, snatching up… hmm, not lint… those were prickly burrs she was surreptitiously stuffing into her skirt pockets. Pockets that were starting to suspiciously bulge. Yet, the blonde kept on shoving in more burrs, acting like no one could see what she was doing.
The baby didn’t look fussed, round cheeked, big blue eyes, no hair yet. He ignored his mother as his tiny fingers clasped a… Cullen blinked to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. No, the baby clearly was holding a large, spiky, three corner jack, and looked very happy about it. Resisting his mother’s occasional futile attempts to relieve him of it. Very interesting.
Okay, on to baby number two. Damn, as Cullen met the gaze of the second male infant he knew without having to be told that this child was without doubt at the top of the food chain. There was something predatory, assessing, that he recognised in those clear grey eyes, that switched focus between watching Cullen and the tiny knife his mother was currently spinning back and forth across the top of her knuckles, like some people would a coin. Something told Cullen this little boy, dressed deceptively in a bright red t-shirt with a bus on it and matching shorts wouldn’t be happy with just car keys being jangled in front of him. No, he clearly wanted that knife.
The baby was tall, or should that be long, considering his age. Wispy, white blonde curls clung to his skull. He clearly had inherited his height and eyes from his mother, but given her dark red curls, he could only surmise the father was the blonde in the family. Cullen also noted that the baby wasn’t just strapped into his bassinet like the other infant, no, this one had a complicated series of padlocks keeping the straps together.
Well, hell. Somehow Cullen didn’t think tales of puppies chasing balls and kittens getting stuck up a tree were going to cut it with this crowd. No wonder there had been a committee formed to aid in the development of these two. They were brimming with magic… shit, so young. Things could go very, very badly if these two weren’t managed and their mothers provided support. Though Cullen had a sneaky suspicion that the first step in managing the babies would be for the mothers to accept how special their sons were. Hiding magically appearing sharp burrs and having a baby with a knife fixation – probably things that should be discussed sooner, rather than later.
“Are we ready?” He looked over at Nestor, who nodded and then at the two mothers who didn’t look entirely convinced they could leave their infant sons and retreat to partake of the morning tea, set up only ten feet away. Cullen didn’t bother with the books, instead, he leaned forward slightly, staring at the two baby boys, pitching his voice in a low, confiding tone. “Today’s story will be Jack and the Giant Beanstalk, and I must warn you. There will be blood shed, and sword play. A treacherous beanstalk to climb into another realm. One studded with thorns so sharp that they will cut a man’s hand off if he brushes against them accidentally. Their tips drenched in poison that will have a man convulsing in agony, dead within a minute. That’s if the fall from the beanstalk doesn’t kill him first.”
Cullen assessed the response to his opening gambit. The two babies suddenly looked enraptured, the red-head looked intrigued and the plump blonde looked shocked and horr
ified. And what was that glimmer he caught sight of in Patricia Bennett’s hazel eyes? Surprise, grudging amusement, but no obvious gnashing of teeth that he’d thwarted her plans, as Nestor stepped forward and gently but firmly led first the blonde and then the red head over to the table set up for the grown-ups.
Dragging out the story for thirty minutes wasn’t all that difficult. Cullen ensured the climb up and down the beanstalk was detailed and arduous, befitting an epic quest. And he embellished several sword fights. Adding two younger Giant brothers to the mix and having them meet violent and bloody ends. One via a knife to the eye. The other falling down the beanstalk and embedding himself on several vicious, poison tipped thorns.
It all seemed to go over very well. That’s if you interpreted the thrum of bassinets bouncing, as the babies wriggled and gurgled, to be the equivalent of high praise, which Cullen did.
“Bravo.” Patricia was big enough to admit that Cullen had won this salvo. “You know this will make you a permanent fixture on the storytelling rotation, right?”
“I’m surprised you managed to tune in, given the number of interruptions.” He’d noted three library staff and four family members drop by for a quick chat with Patricia during the thirty minute time slot allotted for storytelling. All clearly wanting or needing her expertise in some manner.
“I’m an excellent multi-tasker.” Patricia beamed a farewell smile Gaia’s way as the blonde pushed a top of the line, expensive pram out of the room. Followed closely by Hadleigh, who had Asher strapped to her chest, facing outwards so he could see what was going on. Great-Uncle Nestor trailed behind them, happily making notes in his official binder. Hmm, it was a little disconcerting to realise they were alone, just her and Lester Cullen.
“So, Trix, what do you have up your sleeve for me next?”
“I don’t know what you mean. You’ve been getting away scot free for almost two years now without pulling your weight. If you want to be associated with the Southern Sanctuary Library you have to step up, just like every other librarian.”
“Maybe I’ll secede, set up my own rival Library.”
“Not with my books you won’t.”
“Hmmm, maybe you’re right. Think of the potential number of casualties. Page corners may be turned down. Bindings scuffed. Failing to collect on overdue loans. The travesty. The horror.”
“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”
Cullen blinked, no one had ever accused him of having a sense of humour before. Another surprise to add to the ever growing list. “I’m glad you find me amusing. You deserve a break. Don’t you ever switch off? I get you are at work but I’ve seen people approach you at parties, making demands on you.”
“Oh, that’s nothing. They just want to give me a research project, or find out how much progress has been made on one they’ve already lodged.”
“I’ve read some of the published research results and I doubt any of the Enforcers I’ve seen corner you are wanting an update on whether mercury can be substituted for liquid metal in a perpetual engine machine spell. Or if the Laird of the McGlenish clan of 1542 was really a Cyclops.”
“Of course not. The Enforcers usually want help in pinpointing the monster they are facing.”
“And why can’t they look it up in the Cryptozoology field guide you maintain so meticulously?”
“The Enforcers would rather get right to the killing than get bogged down in research.”
“Hmmm.” Cullen looked contemplative for a moment.
“Hold on. Are you watching me?” And if he was, why hadn’t she noticed, since she was always watching him. Purely so she could avoid him, no other reason.
Cullen ignored her question. “You need to learn to put your foot down and say no.”
“You have met my relatives? They are the very definition of the word tenacious. And the whining when they don’t get their way, it can go on for days.”
“Still, you deserve thirty minutes of uninterrupted time to yourself.”
“Not when you are a librarian in the Southern Sanctuary. We might not carry a sword or throw magic directly at our enemies, but we have a duty to support the Historians, the Enforcers and the Magic Users. Information wins war. Preparedness keeps casualties to a minimum. Research pinpoints strengths, weaknesses and helps to broker alliances.”
“I concede your point on the importance of the Library to the community here. But you have a support staff of thirty-four, plus volunteers reporting directly to you.” Cullen made an abrupt shooing motion as one of the junior librarians appeared in the doorway, quickly disappearing from sight as Cullen imperiously instructed.
Damn, now Patricia would have to track down Larson to find out what he needed. It wasn’t that the junior staff member wasn’t capable, he had potential, he just hesitated to take on the full weight and responsibility yet for his work. And since lives could be lost as a direct result, it was understandable that he was looking to Patricia to confirm he was on the right track.
Though more often than not Patricia felt the junior staff were just looking for a fall-guy in case something went wrong. And she, big chump that she was, always stepped up to shoulder the burden. It was her job after all.
And speaking of her job, what gave Cullen the right to tell her staff what to do? It was that air of confidence and being in command that he exuded. Annoying.
“… and from all indications those people seem to rely far too heavily on you.”
“Understandably.” Patricia found herself defending them. “If they provide the wrong information, lives could be lost, people could get hurt.”
“I call bullshit. You would only hire competent people, they should stand behind their own work, not come to you to sign off on every little detail. You’re enabling them.”
Patricia grit her teeth. See, see, she just knew that if she gave Cullen the slightest opening he would insinuate himself into the complex, rapid pace, vital service the Library performed and try to interfere or take over.
She’d known from the first moment they met and she’d looked into those jade green eyes that he would be trouble. This is why she’d be keeping him at arms length for two years. She had more than enough on her plate to deal with, she didn’t need to add a know-it-all, take charge interloper.
“I am the Head Librarian, the buck stops here. Friends, family, all go into battle armed with the information we provide them. If we get it wrong. If they don’t have all the facts… the correct facts, they could potentially be hurt or killed.”
“That’s a burden no one person should be responsible for, what you need-”
Patricia held up her hand. “Bzzzz. Have I asked for your opinion? No. Butt out, Lester. Why don’t you head back to your little Annexe and start prepping for all the inspections you have booked in for next week. It would be a crying shame if your little corner of the world failed to adhere to the high levels demanded by the clearly laid out rules and regulations insisted upon by the Town Charter.”
“Yes, I can just imagine the tears you would shed.” Cullen smiled suddenly. “Well, until we meet again, Trix.”
“My name is Patricia.” She made sure she was standing as straight as possible when she made that haughty claim, looking down at him. But Cullen didn’t quaver, or back down, instead that smile broadened into a grin, heat amping up in those jade green eyes. That confident, purely male expression unsettled her, but she refused to let him know that.
“And I believe I told you mine is Cullen. Besides, I think Trix suits you, there’s so much more going on under that elegant, cool exterior. Am I the only one you let see this side of you?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She really didn’t.
“I can see that your pulse is racing.” His gaze dipped momentarily to the smooth skin at the base of her throat. “And your eyes, did you know when you get angry… excited, little copper flecks sparkle in those beautiful hazel depths? I don’t see those copper sparkles very often, except when you are l
ocking horns with me.” Cullen stepped closer to Patricia momentarily as he headed for the door, dropping his voice to a rough whisper. “Am I getting to you, Trix? I really, really hope so.”
Patricia watched Cullen exit, his stride confident and sure. It was official, the man was insane, a stealer of library books, interfering, and now he was intimating that he was… they were attracted to one another. Insane. Absently she reached up to press cool palms against her super-heated cheeks.
Okay, yes, the man had a lovely speaking voice. That British accent was very easy on the ears. And he was attractive, in an older… no, not older… mature manner. He barely looked forty, but there was something in those eyes that suggested he was a decade or so older. Neatly cut black hair. Strong jaw. Lovely lush black eyelashes ringing intense jade green eyes. He seemed healthy, fit. He appeared to be intelligent and had a sense of humour.
But none of that negated the fact that he had bullied his way into her world via nefarious shenanigans. Stealing library books. Even Eli, the designated family thief, had been unable to deduce how he managed it. The last straw had been Cullen defeating her in court. How humiliating it had been, the day his Potting Shed was declared an official Annexe of the Library.
And he clearly didn’t understand work or personal boundaries. Giving her advice on how to run her Library? the conceit. He was a retired banker. Or academic. What did he know about her job or the way things worked here? And then to suggest that she… that they… ridiculous. As if she would ever let anyone but her fantasy Warrior get under her skin. The man really was insane.
Ousting him was even more important now than it had ever been.
Okay, so he’d survived the storytelling test. Not surprising, his opponents were in effect only infants. It had been foolish to think he would stumble and fall at the first hurdle. But she had plenty more tricks up her sleeve. Tricks. Trix? Maybe it was a suitable moniker after all. Not that she approved of Cullen’s familiar manner in gifting her with a nickname. And going on about how her eyes sparkled with copper flecks, but only when she was around him, absurd.