by Charish Reid
John would settle for her attitude, for now, if it meant he could take a break from her. He watched her march into the library before starting the engine. His watch showed he was twenty minutes late. He hoped the rushed email he sent Victoria Reese would give him some leeway, but he wasn’t trying to push it.
After his sister directed him to read his email and do some light research, John had focused up and scoured the internet for any traces of the woman who was connected to Pembroke University and found nothing outside of her published articles and university profile page. Immediately, he saw she was an assistant professor in the English department and specialized in African American literature. John had inferred the rest based on her profile photo. Her sharp cheekbones and pointed chin were almost as sharp as her piercing brown eyes. They stared down the camera with a defiance that intrigued him. Her brown skin shined like bronze against photography lights, her full lips painted oxblood red. Power color. Her photo, alone, told him to proceed with caution, but it also stirred something in him that few women had managed in the past couple years. Sure, she was beautiful, but her expressive eyes spoke volumes. John could have been reaching, but he saw wit, fierceness, and stubbornness...
Back on the streets of Farmingdale, he drove carefully around jay-walking college students as they ambled towards the many eateries near the downtown area, or found a loitering spot on the quad. He envied the kids of Pembroke, many living charmed lives inside a private university bubble, blissfully unaware of the real-world challenges waiting for them. As he searched for Stevenson Hall, Victoria’s building, he checked himself over in his rearview mirror and lamented how casually he’d dressed. When he was a teenager, destined for a life of publicly-funded college, he recalled how unobtainable Pembroke Girls had been. They hailed from wealthy families and went home to the Chicago suburbs during summer break. Pembroke Girls never had time for the corn-fed boys of Downstate Illinois. And certainly not one like John, whose father worked at the Illinois Farm Bureau.
There was no telling if Victoria was a Pembroke Girl. She was a professor, after all, and John was no longer a teenager. He was a librarian now, and she was in need of his services. No matter what he wore, he was going to work with a woman who needed his expertise. With that in mind, he gave himself a firm nod in the mirror. John knew one thing about Professor Victoria Reese: she was in possession of an overdue library book.
For the Duke’s Convenience.
He probably shouldn’t have, but he added that humorous nugget of information in his email. Surely she could take a joke.
Chapter Five
Twenty-seven minutes late.
Victoria glanced at the clock sitting on her desk, while she outlined her library internship proposal. So far, it was a list of possible questions she had for John. So far, there were only two items on the list. Her concentration was elsewhere, but she still knew that her proposal had to be immaculate before she presented anything to the president. It would help if the man she was to work with arrived on time to start this process.
Twenty-eight minutes late.
She stopped typing to tap her fingernails against her desk. This was a poor start and a bad omen. Victoria didn’t know how John Donovan ran things down at the Farmingdale Public Library, but here at Pembroke, things ran like clockwork. Emails were timely, meetings ran according to the Robert’s Rules of Order, and people arrived to said meetings on time.
While she stewed in her righteous indignation, a knock at her door interrupted her thoughts. Victoria sat up straight in her chair, pulled at the lapels of her gray blazer, and smoothed her green silk blouse down. She took an extra step and ran her tongue over her teeth, rubbing at any red lipstick, and swung her braids over her shoulder. She didn’t know why she was taking careful measures for a man who couldn’t bother to arrive on time. “Come in,” she called.
The man who walked in was unlike any children’s librarian she’d ever met. Since the library website only offered his contact information and no photograph, Victoria couldn’t have prepared for this moment.
Mr. Donovan was positively gorgeous.
He closed the door behind him and flashed her a bashful smile. The air was sucked from the room like someone had smashed open a port window in her space capsule. Oxygen was plummeting to critically low levels.
“Dr. Reese,” he started. His voice matched his body: a masculine rumble from his chest, rough and hearty. From behind her desk, she tried to gauge his height and Victoria speculated he might tower over her by nearly a foot. He’s a G.D. Viking...
Mr. Donovan dressed casually to this meeting. His faded denim button-down was slightly wrinkled and his sleeves were rolled to the elbow, revealing a brilliant assortment of colorful tattoos snaking down muscular forearms. His olive green pants hugged his trunk-like thighs and tapered at a pair of worn Timberland boots. He was a brunette with strands of blond streaked by the sun. Most of it was gathered in a bun at the back of his head, but some locks framed his face. Something about those locks bothered Victoria. She didn’t know why her fingers itched to smooth them back or pulled the whole bun loose. Perhaps loose hair went better with the well-groomed beard that covered his angular jaw.
“My apologies for being tardy.”
Victoria jumped from her seat and crossed the room. What drove her to be so quick with her greeting, she didn’t quite know. A magnetism drew her to him, made her extend her hand, and look up at him in wonder. “Mr. Donovan.”
His green eyes twinkled with humor as he took her hand in his. A calloused thumb swept over her fingers, sending a shiver up her arm. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said softly.
Victoria reluctantly pulled away and gestured to the chair before her desk. “Please, take a seat and let’s get started.” She was conscious of the way she moved as she made her way behind the large metal desk, back to the safety of her chair. She quieted the swing of her hips as she walked. She noticed he waited until she was seated before taking his own. He looked entirely too large for the chair used for guests and students. Really, he was too large for her small office. His energy flooded every square inch of the room, mingling with her own nervous energy. Yes, he was attractive, but it didn’t have to rattle Victoria like it did. She was still a professional in the face of such blatant handsomeness.
Business first. Jesus, business only. She took a breath and gave him a polite smile. “Traffic delay?” Being passive aggressive was one of her many gifts. She got it from her mother. If she could keep a little haughtiness in her voice, perhaps the words wouldn’t come out so shaky.
John shook his head. “Nope, pretty light out there.”
He didn’t sound like he was going to explain his tardiness. “Right.”
“So you’re Professor Reese...”
Victoria narrowed her eyes, focusing on his face and not his body. The tiny lines at the corners of his eyes became visible every time he smiled. His jaw quirking at an angle as his full lips pursed. He was trying to size her up. Pin her down. The very thought made Victoria squeeze her thighs together. “Were you expecting someone else?” she asked, immediately feeling defensive.
“No,” he said. “I saw your picture earlier. Meeting you in person, though...you seem a bit younger than I expected.”
She shifted in her chair. “I assure you, Mr. Donovan—”
“Johnny, please,” he interrupted, with that same wry grin. “Mr. John Donovan was my father.”
Victoria’s mouth snapped shut before she could find her footing. “Forgive me, but I think formalities are good enough for now, Mr. Donovan.”
His broad shoulders gave an easy shrug. “For now.”
Victoria searched for something on her desk to occupy her idle hands. She discreetly grabbed an ink pen and tapped it against her desk calendar. “Right, well, I know this is short notice and I certainly appreciate you getting back to me. I’d like to talk about a possible partn
ership—”
“I’m listening.”
“—between the Farmingdale Public Library and Pembroke University. As I said in my email, I think it would be an excellent opportunity to unite our two academic institutions.”
“Sure,” John said.
“I’m currently trying to convince my department chair that this program could work. Do you think the library director would be amendable to such a partnership?”
“It depends on what you’re proposing,” he said, the grin returning. His answers were too short for her to tell if he was serious or interested.
“I... I’m hoping that students of our department could benefit from learning about children’s literacy by working with you.” She was growing nervous, which was unusual. Meetings like these tended to work in her favor since she knew her audience. Working with academics was fairly easy; she knew their insecurities and ticks. Victoria didn’t know this man. Her brain, usually alert, was slowly turning into mush as she stared at him.
He gave another shrug. “Sounds great to me. Let’s do it.”
She frowned. “Beg your pardon?”
“Let’s do it.”
No, no, that’s not how it works. There was a certain amount of cajoling she had to do. There were charts and projections, cost benefits, and red-tape. So much red-tape. “But don’t you have to—”
John dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. “I’m the head children’s librarian and I’m supposed to come up with ideas to advance our department. Director Wegman is already happy to work with you.”
“Oh.” He may have been twenty-eight minutes late, but he certainly cut through forty-five minutes of negotiation. Victoria should have been happy that he’d hold up his end. Instead, she was deflated. It didn’t feel like the battle she had prepped for. She was used to committee members who agonized over the wording of a single proposal, until time ran out and other business had to be tabled. “Are you certain?”
He absently swept a light brown lock of hair behind his ear. She caught a flash of his tattooed arm and squeezed her ink pen. A fire-breathing dragon melting a Dada clock. Strange, but beautiful artwork. “Yep. Leave it to me and we’ll have you squared away.”
“Okay,” she breathed. “I guess we should plan something else then.”
“What kind of food do you like?” he asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs.
The sudden movement and the question startled her. “What?”
“What kind of food do you like?” he repeated. “If we plan any more, it should be over a meal. My treat.”
Victoria frowned. “No, I think we can very easily discuss plans here or at the library.”
John scoffed. “Oh come on, Dr. Reese. There is such a thing as a free sandwich.”
No there isn’t. “We’re getting off topic.”
“I tend to do that. If you don’t hold me to task, I’ll veer anywhere,” he said with a wink.
He actually winked.
“How are you the head of an entire department?” Victoria said before thinking. “How old are you?”
He blinked. “Probably older than you.”
Her face warmed at his candid words. “I ask because you have a very laid-back...” she trailed off and gestured to his overall appearance. “You seem like a man in his twenties.”
John gave a nod of approval. “Thank you. You have no idea how flattering it is for a thirty-eight-year-old to hear that.”
Victoria felt foolish.
He didn’t seem bothered though. He shrugged that off as well. “I have a loose work ethic that hasn’t done me wrong yet.”
She shifted in her seat again. “Mr. Donovan, if you’re not serious about this project...”
“Oh, don’t mistake my laid-back demeanor for my ability to produce results. I get things done on time,” he said, “and the kids seem to like my methods.”
Victoria cocked her head to the side, wondering if she heard him right. “That’s fine and well, but I’m not a child, Mr. Donovan.”
His green eyes traced a path down her body before they met her gaze head on. “No, Dr. Reese. You’re not. I can tell I’m going to have to employ other methods on you.”
Sweat pricked her scalp and the space between her breasts. He was playing with her. The subject of their meeting was waiting in the background while he batted her emotions around like a child jerking a balloon by the string. Victoria was losing the upper-hand in this discussion and was desperate to get it back.
Before she could reply, John loosened the grip he had on her emotions. He pulled back on the charm and replaced it with a small measure of professionalism. “Of course, we’ll want to create a template or some guidelines regarding job skills and learning goals. I’ll bet you can manage the latter while I come up with duties your students can perform.”
Victoria nodded silently. Of course, she could manage it.
“And when would you like to present this to your superiors?” he asked.
“Um, I have four weeks, but I’d like to finish in three so I can polish the final draft.” She circled a date on her desk calendar. “Let’s aim for October 28.”
“Excellent. Until then, I think it would be best if you shadow me at the library. We can start in the adult section learning the catalogue, shelving, and doing intake. When I feel like you’re sufficient with that, we can move to the children’s section and talk more about youth reading programs. I’d like you to get an idea of what your students have in store.”
His suggestion was outrageous. “Wouldn’t it be easier to put all of that in an email?”
“Easier, yeah. But wouldn’t you rather be thorough when you advertise this to students and your bosses?”
Dang it. Victoria did like to be thorough. But the idea of shadowing him presented more challenges. If she reacted like this upon meeting him for the first time, how could she expect to spend more time with him? She couldn’t imagine what it might feel like to be stuck with him, between shelves, handling books. Him towering over her with his piercing gaze, while she tried to control her breathing. She may have been behaving foolishly in this moment, but she wasn’t a blind fool. John Donovan was a beautiful man. “When do you suggest starting?”
“If we have three weeks, let’s start tomorrow. Tuesday nights are my lighter shifts. The patrons start to filter out a little after 6 p.m. Like I said, we can start where you might be more comfortable—the adult section.”
Victoria wasn’t imagining his double meaning. Was she? “Okay.”
“Great.” He stood up, as if that was his cue to end the meeting. Another move that Victoria didn’t appreciate. Surely there was something else to cover. “Oh, one more thing.”
She relaxed slightly in her chair. “Yes?”
John crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “It might be in poor taste to become a temporary library worker with your...record.”
“Excuse me?”
The merriment returned to his forest green eyes. “In my email, I mentioned your overdue book. What was it? For the Duke’s Pleasure?”
Victoria shot up from her chair. “For the Duke’s Convenience and I definitely returned that book.”
“I hear this often,” John said. “Patrons sometimes lose books in the shuffle. Sometimes a book accidentally ends up on their shelves or tucked away in a stack by their beds. It happens.”
Victoria’s fists clenched in embarrassment at his accusation. “Mr. Donovan, I can assure you the book is on one of your shelves.”
“I can do another sweep—”
“I suggest you try that,” she said, rounding her desk, heading straight for the door.
“—but you should know that your balance is outstanding.”
She paused at her door, hand resting on the knob. “Outstanding by how much?” Even after checking her library account, she
decided to lie in favor of plausible deniability. She turned to see him saunter towards her. John’s steady approach set her already frayed nerves on edge. He didn’t stop until he was toe to toe with her. Victoria stood between him and the door, struggling for air that wasn’t clouded by the pleasant scent of his aftershave. Pine or birch or something green.
“I’m afraid you’re running up the tab, Dr. Reese.”
Their proximity clouded her mind and made her knees weak. Victoria leaned against the door for relief. “Am I?”
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was low gravel coming from the core of his exquisitely chiseled chest. She glanced at his denim shirt, wondering if the buttons were the snappy kind that you could wrench apart, and also if John even owned an iron. He hadn’t moved any closer, but his frenetic energy was migrating to her body causing her fingers to tremble. “I’d say you’re pushing $30 in fines. It’s almost criminal.”
“I’m not paying that,” Victoria said, trying to keep the haughtiness in her voice.
“Well then, that would be criminal, wouldn’t it?”
“I can easily contest the charges.”
“I’ll bet you could. You seem like a woman who likes to contest things.”
He was teasing her again. The quirk of his mouth was driving her mad. Was he flirting with her? “Good you recognize that now, Mr. Donovan. I’m also very organized.”
John raised a brow in response. “I’ll remember that.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked, opening the door.
“Six p.m., try to be on time.”
Victoria couldn’t help the undignified snort that escaped her. “Really?”
John stepped over the threshold, into the hallway. “I’m going to try out punctuality and see how it fits. Formalities are good, right?”
“Yeah,” she breathed.
“I’ll see you then.”
He walked off, leaving her with a slacked jaw. Before she could process what happened, the department secretary, Debbie, nearly walked into John as she passed by. She excused herself, sidled up to Victoria’s office and the two women watched the Viking walk away. Debbie was bubbling with excitement, her red curls bouncing with every movement.