by Charish Reid
“Just so you know,” Chris said in his ear. “You look like a mess. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
He looked that way because he hadn’t slept in days. “That’s accurate,” he said. John took the elements of his Zorro costume from Becca and let her explore the rest of the Halloween store. “You think this comes with a holster thing for the sword? Is that what they call it?”
“Man, who gives a fuck about the costume?” his friend whispered. “The love of your life is just floating out there waiting for you to pull her to shore.”
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Even as John said the words, he knew Chris was right about this too. He was lonely and hurting. If anything, Victoria was his lifeline and he needed to be pulled to shore.
“I saw you two at the gym; I know there’s something between you,” Chris said while playing with some toy guns. “I’m a little weirded out that you’re just bopping along like it’s not a big deal. Like you don’t have something to lose.”
John heaved a tired sigh. “I don’t know what to tell you, Chris.”
“Look, if I had that woman clutched between my thighs in a sweaty rear naked choke, I wouldn’t let her go so easy.”
John clenched his hands around his costume bag. “Chris...”
“If I had a sex arrangement with that woman, you know I’d keep every single appointment,” his friend continued, moving on to the fake handcuffs. “Were you supposed to be with her today? Your place or hers?”
John sucked his teeth and stepped to Chris’s face. “Shut. Up.”
Chris raised a brow as he turned towards John. “Am I making you mad?”
“Say another thing about my girlfriend and I’ll fuck you up,” John said with a menacing growl meant only for Chris to hear. “I don’t care if you’re my oldest, dearest friend, I will rip you apart if you mention a sweaty Victoria ever again.”
Chris didn’t move away. Instead, he edged closer to John. “There’s the energy I needed to see.”
John blinked in confusion. “What?”
“You’re walking around here pretending she didn’t rip your heart out and stomp all over it, when I know damn well you’re a fucking mess. You thought you could hide that from me?”
John backed up. He couldn’t believe he’d been about to come to blows with his best friend in a party store. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean...”
“You said exactly what you meant,” Chris said, leaning against a police officer costume stand. “You told me that she was your girlfriend and that you’d rip me apart for her. Simple as that.”
John’s shoulders slumped in resignation. He did just say that. In fact, he growled it. “I don’t know what to do.”
Chris clapped him on the back. “First step is admitting what you feel for her. It’s not a situationship anymore. You love her. You have to tell her.”
This was the third person to tell him the obvious. He was in love with Victoria and pride prevented him from saying so. “I don’t know if she’s going to show up at the party,” he said.
“Fuck the party. You have to say something.”
John looked down at his Zorro costume and frowned. Now or never was coming at him fast. If he was prepared to call Victoria his girlfriend, he had to make himself take other chances. John had to risk his dignity and go all in.
* * *
“We call this emergency meeting of The Write Bitches to settle the matter of Victoria’s hot librarian,” Regina said, holding a glass of wine aloft.
Paula was nearby, with her own wine glass, busily sifting through Halloween costumes. “Yes, yes, let’s come to order.”
For her part, Victoria had skipped the wine after her embarrassingly boozy weekend. She was searching through the Halloween costumes that Regina and Paula had been kind enough to bring to her home. There were feather boas, tiaras, and costume jewelry, some of which were from Regina’s bachelorette party several years ago. “Whose are these?” she asked as she picked up a pair of real handcuffs.
Paula raised her hand. “The key is around here somewhere in a small baggie.”
“What have you used them for?”
Her friend stopped her search to give her a look. “Really?”
“Gotcha,” Victoria said, giving them another glance before tossing them back in the pile.
“Girl, you haven’t lived until you’ve locked a guy up,” Paula said with a giggle. “And then pretend you’ve lost the key afterwards. Oh, how they squirm.”
“I’m not looking to lock John up,” she said. “I just need to apologize to him.”
“You need to do more than that,” Regina said. “You left him without an answer to the biggest question: Do you want more?”
Victoria was aware of that. After her trip home, she’d made up her mind that she wanted John. She needed to know that she hadn’t ruined everything with her neurosis, that he wasn’t completely fed up with her indecision. She wanted to date John, and she wanted to do it with spontaneity. Before she could do any of that, an apology was in order. Victoria knew he’d be there to greet the “friends of the library,” but she wanted to do it with a bit of flourish. She had hoped he might appreciate the extra step after her erratic behavior. Plus, she needed to return For the Duke’s Convenience and pay the $30 fine she owed. She would have done it that day, but it was Sunday and they were closed. Monday night’s party had to work.
“So what really happened at the military ball? Is it as bad as you described in your text?” Regina asked.
“Possibly worse,” Victoria said. “But I managed to tell my mother the truth.”
Her friends went quiet.
“I did,” she insisted. “I told her that her days of ordering me around were over. I didn’t go to the previously scheduled brunch and came home. My dad actually backed me up for once.”
Regina glanced at Paula before speaking. “You told Katherine Reese off?”
Victoria nodded. “I did. And it felt great.”
“And she took this...well?” Paula asked.
“I don’t know how she took it,” Victoria said. “The point is, she took it. And now I’m ready to approach John like an adult. You guys were right; I can’t keep treating relationships like a checklist. I have to take risks instead.”
Paula nodded with appreciation. “Okay.”
“Sounds good to me,” Regina intoned. “So what are you going to wear to this party?”
Victoria looked at the assortment of costume pieces sprawled on her couch. Her eyes settled on a simple black eye mask. “I think I have an idea,” she said as a smile stretched over her face. It was the first genuine smile she’d made in days.
“Yeah?” Paula said, finishing off her first glass of wine. “You’re going with the handcuffs?”
“No, but you’re not too far off the mark.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
It was difficult to steady her breathing as she pulled up to the library’s crowded parking lot on Monday evening. Victoria sat in her car for a while, thinking of what words to say if she saw John. The paperback novel sat in her passenger’s seat, a loud reminder of what she could have if only she just asked. Tonight she would ask, plead if she needed to. Victoria took a deep breath and adjusted the mask over her eyes. She tugged the black knitted cap over her head and tossed her braids over her shoulder.
“Good enough,” she said to her reflection before leaving the safety of her car.
She scampered across the parking lot and paused before the entrance of the library. This was it, no turning back. Victoria took another breath, clutched the book to her chest and entered the building.
Inside, the party was already underway. Masked individuals passed by her as she crossed the threshold, making their way to a punch bowl. “The Monster Mash” blared throughout the building and the lights were
dimmed. Farmingdale Public Library didn’t resemble the same library she’d visited while shadowing John. It almost felt like a nightclub.
Victoria made a beeline for the checkout counter where someone was actually working. Martha sat behind the counter wearing a Little Red Riding Hood costume and a red eye mask.
Victoria slid the book on the counter and shouted, “I need to return this book.”
“No need to shout, dear,” the woman said. “My hearing aid is back in business.”
“Oh.”
Martha opened the front cover of her book, scanned the barcode, and set it on the cart behind her. And then she went back to the novel she was reading.
“Excuse me,” Victoria said. “I need to pay the fine.”
Martha looked up. “What’s that?”
“I need to pay the fine,” Victoria shouted.
The older woman glanced at the computer and shook her head. “No, you don’t.”
Victoria gripped the counter, leaning forward to take a look at the computer. “But I do, it’s been overdue for months.”
The older Red Riding Hood swiveled the computer monitor to her. “No, you don’t,” she repeated. “There aren’t any fines here.”
Confused, Victoria looked through her account page. “What?”
“There’s a note though,” said Martha. She took a closer look at the screen. “Mmh. It looks like Mr. John Donovan left a message.”
Victoria’s scanned the message for herself and her heart bloomed. “Dr. Reese, is exempt from her fine as a token of my unwavering appreciation. She is not only a friend of the Farmingdale Public Library, but the love of my life.”
“He shouldn’t be leaving messages like that.” Martha made a tsk sound as she swiveled the screen back to her side. “It’s not very professional.”
It took everything Victoria had inside of her not to crumple into ugly tears.
The love of my life.
“Where is he?” she asked. “I have to find him.”
Martha waved her hand over the crowded bottom floor. “John’s around here somewhere,” she said. “Good luck finding him in all these masks.”
Victoria spun around and searched through the partygoers and their masks for a familiar body. Her heart pounded in her chest at the prospect of being close to him but not picking him out in a crowd. He could be anywhere.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
She came back to him.
John saw her as he descended the stairs from the Children’s Department. It had to be her. Her braids swung from a black knitted cap, still adorned with the same gold cuffs and cowry shells. Victoria wore a black and white horizontally striped shirt and black pants. A simple black mask covered her eyes, but he recognized the bottom portion of her face right away. He remembered those lips, the curve of her neck, the slope of her shoulders, the flair of her hips.
She was dressed as a thief.
John would have laughed if his heart didn’t ache from the very sight of her. As he ran down the stairs, he could tell she was looking for him. Behind her mask, she searched the melee for a sign of him. At the foot of the stairwell, he pushed back the edge of his cape and walked towards her, but there were too many people in his way. Before he could reach her, she left the checkout counter where Martha sat reading.
“Victoria,” he called out.
She didn’t hear him.
Slowly pushing herself through the crush of people, Victoria made her way behind the checkout desk, towards his office. He blew out a sigh of relief as he followed her.
* * *
Something was different about his office. As Victoria closed the door behind her and surveyed her surroundings, the abrupt change made her smile.
John’s desk was spotless.
Gone were the empty coffee cups and random stacks of loose paper. All that was left were framed photos, his computer, and a brand new desk calendar. Perhaps the desk calendar had always been there, but the mass of trash hid it. She slowly approached the desk, hesitant to disturb the perfection. A soft chuckle escaped her chest as she took it all in. He made an effort to keep some order in his life.
Rather than wade through a suffocating crowd to search for John, she had escaped to the comfort and safety of his office. Or the scene of the crime. As she ran her fingers along the newly cleaned desk surface, she remembered how frightened and desperate she must have sounded the last time she was here. His questions and probing had been harmless, yet she evaded him so messily. Victoria closed her eyes, remembering the pulse of energy surrounding him as he’d approached her for a kiss. He had wanted to take her in his arms and she had pushed him away.
“Here to turn yourself in,” said a low voice from behind her.
Her head jerked up and her hand recoiled from his desk. Victoria slowly turned around and beheld a sight that was even more alarming than a clean desk.
Zorro stood at the threshold.
Her jaw fell open as she let her gaze wander over him. John’s lean figure was dressed in all black, from his riding boots to the loose-fitting shirt that opened at the collar to reveal a deep V of tanned skin and sandy chest hair. His black cape fell to the side to reveal a saber and whip hanging from his belt. His face was impassive and stony as he stared at her from under the wide-brimmed hat.
Victoria felt like she’d pass out at yet another party. This time it would be from the sheer masculine beauty of a masked avenger. She groped for the desk behind her to steady herself. She wanted him to cross the room in three easy strides and crush her with a passionate kiss until she forgot her original purpose for visiting.
Instead, John stepped forward only to close the door behind him. He stood against it and, from the safety of his black mask, waited with the same placid expression, his gloved hands folded across his chest. Victoria didn’t feel safe behind her mask.
“Hello, John,” she breathed.
“Professor Reese.”
Emotionless and straightforward. She’d asked for it. “I made a mistake.”
The corner of his mouth quirked as his jaw tightened, but he made no reply.
Victoria was forced to continue. “I had the book all along.”
John inclined his head a fraction. “I told you as much.”
“It was at my parents’ house,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I forgot that I took it with me on my last visit and I must have left it on the nightstand. I think my mom must have put it on the shelf when she cleaned the room.”
He nodded.
The gulf between them now seemed like an actual barrier. It was a test. If she was adult enough, she would cross the chasm and apologize to him. But she held back, expecting him to say or do something. Anything. “And now I’m dressed like a thief because it’s appropriate,” she said, gesturing to her costume. “I’m also a fool. And I’m sorry.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.
“I’m sorry for not giving you credit,” Victoria tried. “I projected my insecurities onto you while making these weird demands. I hid behind my fear because...”
“Because our relationship wasn’t a haunted house,” he finished. “And taking the risk with me was too real.”
Ashamed, she ducked her head. He was right. The thrill of a haunted house was easy to walk through if it meant you could return to normal life. But for Victoria, normal life was dull and packed with rigid routine. There was no risk, no adventure, and more importantly, no way to get hurt. No, that wasn’t true. It was painful enough to stand in the same room as John and not be able to touch him.
“I find it scarier to be apart from you,” she admitted. “I’m unable to think of anything else when I’m not with you.” Her breath came out in a shallow burst of air. “I’m lost without you.”
He shifted his weight against the door, loosening his arms, just slightly, as his lips made a thin line. Vict
oria pulled herself away from the desk and ventured towards him. She kept her back straight and her voice steady as she approached him. “Last night, before I went to sleep, I told myself I would stop living a coward’s life. That I would stand up for what I believed in. I believe in you and me, John.”
John’s breathing changed.
Standing toe to toe with him, Victoria fought the urge to reach out and grab him. She needed to say her piece before she accidentally forced herself on him. “And I don’t think I’ve thanked you for believing in me when I’ve been busy trying to sabotage myself,” she said, glancing at his bearded face. Beneath it, she could see his jaw clench as if he were struggling with his own self-control.
He gave an imperceptible shake of his head and cleared his throat. “No,” he said.
“You told me that no man was in control of my destiny.” Victoria reached out and laid her hand on the center of his chest, fanning her fingers out against his warm skin. His heart was pounding. “I don’t think that’s true. I think, in many ways, you’re probably the key to my destiny.”
Despite his unflappable demeanor, John’s breath hitched. Victoria flushed under her mask and she hoped that wasn’t the most embarrassing thing she’d ever told a man. Doubt made her withdraw from his chest, but John swiftly caught her by the wrist. His gloved fingers pressed hers back to his heart. “Do you mean that, Victoria? Do you really believe it?” His voice was a hoarse whisper that caused her knees to buckle.
Victoria’s mouth fell open, unable to fathom her luck. His hands were on hers, he still wanted to listen to her. They were still connected by an invisible string, tugging them closer by the second. “Yes, I do.”