A Night to Remember

by Adrienne Basso

  “No.” Eleanor laughed. “Mrs. Peterson couldn’t find her library card, and the triplets had reached their breaking point. I selected a few titles I thought the boys would enjoy and left a stack of books at the circulation desk for her. She said she’d try to come back later to check them out. Without the kids.”

  “Poor woman.” Rosalind shook her head. “I only have one toddler at home and she runs me ragged.”

  Eleanor smiled in sympathy, remembering the chaos that occurred the time Rosalind had brought her energetic daughter to the library. “I agree that Mrs. Peterson usually looks exhausted, but she told me once that she and her husband had tried for six years to have a family. Thanks to a successful fertility procedure the boys were born. She may be bone-tired much of the time, but she seems so thrilled to finally have children, I don’t think she minds.”

  “All I can say is, better her than me,” Rosalind quipped with a small shudder.

  Eleanor’s gut reaction was agreement, yet as she tossed a few toys into the toy box, her thoughts drifted to families and babies and the lengths some people were forced to go to in order to achieve their dreams. The Petersons’ situation was all too common these days. Would she be willing to do that much to have a baby if she found herself unable to conceive?

  She honestly didn’t know. Yet when she tried to imagine a dream family, Joshua’s handsome face popped into the role of proud papa.

  Eleanor groaned softly. Those nightly calls were starting to have an effect. Try as she might, she could not keep him from invading her thoughts at odd, unexpected moments.

  Eleanor lifted a stack of picture books and headed for the shelves. She glanced at the title on the top of the pile and shivered. All Different Kinds of Daddies.

  The fantasy swirling in her head took flight. What sort of parent would Joshua be? Would he be involved in his children’s lives or would he be too busy with business to spend much time with them?

  And what of her? Would she take to motherhood with the patience of Mrs. Peterson, or would she be flustered, nervous, unsure? Eleanor liked children, that was one reason she had decided to work with them, but she had little experience with or knowledge of newborns. They were mysterious and rather terrifying entities.

  But there would be extended family to help. Her own mother would be joyous over the prospect of becoming first a mother-in-law and then a grandmother. And what child wouldn’t adore having as a grandparent the talented author Rosemary Phillips, whose wonderful stories celebrated the joys and trials of childhood?

  Even the gruff Warren Barton seemed enthusiastic over the idea of having a grandchild or two to spoil. Eleanor remembered he had made several references to the lack of them during her visit.

  She could envision the children playing on the beautiful grounds of the Barton estate, swimming in the pool, the ocean, riding horses, building sandcastles on the beach. Surrounded by love and laughter.

  But the fantasy turned dark as Eleanor tried to imagine herself raising a child in an environment of great wealth and privilege, where she felt uncomfortable and out of place, self-conscious and insecure. What sort of mother would she be then?

  “What’s next?”

  Rosalind’s cheerful voice brought reality crashing back. Eleanor almost felt relieved to escape those disturbing daydreams.

  “The community day camp is bringing over three groups of campers for a video program,” Eleanor replied, consulting her watch. “They should be here in an hour. I’ve already brought the projector and films into the program room. Would you check and make sure the electronic equipment is connected correctly? This is the first time I’ve done it on my own and I want to make sure it works properly.”

  “No problem.” Rosalind picked up the remaining puzzle pieces and fitted them neatly into place. “The Play button on the video machine has a tendency to stick, so I’ll be sure it’s not jamming. There’s nothing more horrifying than being trapped in a roomful of kids all psyched up to see movies and having the projector break.”

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  “It can be.”

  With a laugh and a wave, Rosalind left. Eleanor retreated to the office she now shared with two other librarians, who were currently at lunch. She was just starting to make a dent in the stack of professional journals on her desk when she heard a familiar voice.

  Eleanor peeked around the corner of the opened office door and saw the library director headed toward her.

  Good, Eleanor thought. The director had mentioned earlier in the morning that a new volunteer would be starting today. It looked like she would now be able to get that person started on a few basic projects before the campers arrived.

  “I was hoping I’d find you here,” a no-nonsense female voice declared. “I’ve brought someone down for you to meet.”

  Eleanor turned away from the material she had been sorting with a ready smile on her lips for the woman who had been so kind and supportive when she’d needed it most.

  “This is our newest volunteer, who specifically requested work in the children’s department,” the director continued. “Joshua Barton, meet Eleanor Graham.”

  The director stepped aside and the smile on Eleanor’s face instantly disappeared. It couldn’t be! But of course it was. Looking tall, commanding, and impossibly handsome. For a brief instant she fought the impulse to break into nervous giggles.

  When it became obvious Eleanor wasn’t going to be speaking anytime soon, Joshua broke the awkward silence.

  “How are you, Eleanor?”

  “I’ve been better, Joshua.”

  The director’s eyebrows rose. “Do you two already know each other?”

  Eleanor could feel her face burning. “Did Mr. Barton fail to mention that I used to work for his company? For nearly six years. Then one day I was rather unexpectedly fired.”

  “No, he did not mention it,” the director replied. She glanced suspiciously at Joshua. “Is that going to present a problem for you, Eleanor?”

  “Not at all.” She straightened her spine and cinched the belt on her dress a little tighter. “It will be a refreshing role reversal, having Mr. Barton under my supervision. Unless he has a problem with the arrangement?”

  She looked him directly in the eyes. He was smiling, but she could see a small muscle dancing in the corner of his mouth. Good. It was about time someone let him know he couldn’t command everything in his path like some demented dictator.

  The library director regarded them thoughtfully. “If you’re sure this is acceptable, then I’ll leave you to get started. Call me if you need anything, Eleanor. Anything at all.”

  Eleanor managed to hold onto her pleasant facial expression until the director left. Then she turned to Joshua.

  “What kind of joke are you playing now?” Eleanor asked, leveling an accusing finger at his broad chest.

  “Please, give me a minute,” Joshua replied, with a lazy, half-formed grin that was so sexy and intimate it made Eleanor’s knees weaken. “I’m still trying to shake off the mental image of being under you.”

  “My God, is that all you ever think about?” Eleanor asked tersely.

  “Not at all. Other positions intrigue me, too.”

  Thankfully he didn’t elaborate, but his smoldering grin filled with sexual promise had Eleanor squirming with embarrassment.

  “I want to see you, Eleanor. You keep refusing my invitations to dinner. To lunch. For coffee.” Joshua crinkled his nose. “And as much as I look forward to and enjoy our nightly phone conversations, they just aren’t enough.”

  Eleanor flushed scarlet, remembering the sexual nature of their phone call last night. She tried to hold herself rigid, but the memories made that impossible. With just the power of his words and the timbre of his voice he had created visual images that made her feel passion and excitement.

  She had spent a sleepless night, restless, unsettled, her mind and heart filled with an unbearable sense of longing.

  “Becoming a volunteer for the li
brary is hardly a viable solution,” she insisted.

  He folded his arms across his chest, regarding her with a look that she swore was amusement. “You aren’t giving me many options. Volunteering at the library for a few hours a week will at least give me an opportunity to see you. It sure beats the heck out of becoming a stalker, which was my second choice.”

  Eleanor stared at him. “It’s hard to be inconspicuous stalking someone while you’re being squired around in a chauffeur-driven Bentley,” she said dryly.

  “Give me some credit.” He gave her such a long, exaggerated look of despair, she knew he was teasing. “I would never involve my staff in an illegal activity. I drove myself to the library today.”

  Eleanor bit her lip to keep the smile from forming on her lips. She would not be amused, nor charmed by him. With determination she walked toward the windows that faced the parking lot and looked out, scanning the neat rows of cars. “Red Ferrari, right? I stand corrected. You’d make an excellent stalker, completely inconspicuous in that sports car.”

  “You’re not listening. Stalking was my second choice. I haven’t done it yet.” His expression turned hopeful. “If you want, I can give it a try.”

  She almost gasped as another slow, sexy smile of delight crossed his face. The rat. There was nothing worse than a handsome, virile man who knew how potent his sex appeal could be.

  “No thanks.” She returned to her desk and started busying herself with a stack of papers. He was right on her heels, like an annoying car salesman.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Go home,” Eleanor answered automatically.

  “I can’t do that. I’ve agreed to work and I intend to honor my commitment.”

  “Stop being ridiculous,” Eleanor said scornfully. “Our volunteers are usually teenagers who need to do community service for their church or school, or retired seniors who want something useful to occupy some of their free time.”

  Joshua bristled. “I can have just as much civic pride as anyone else.”

  “Oh, please.” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “You don’t live in this community. You don’t even live in this state. How much civic pride can you possibly have? Why don’t you write out a big fat check instead? I’m sure the library could put the funds to good use.”

  “I’d be pleased to make a donation,” Joshua replied smoothly. “But that won’t change my mind about the volunteer work. I’m staying.”

  Eleanor nearly screamed and stomped her foot, all the while itching to hurl something big and heavy directly at his head. She felt completely frustrated. Flattered more than she would ever admit by this attention, this persistence, yet totally confused by it, too. But worst of all, she was feeling utterly powerless.

  “You’re breaking the rules,” she hissed at him.

  A frown creased his brow. “I didn’t know there were any.”

  She gave him her best cut-out-the-crap stare, then started shifting from foot to foot when he didn’t even flinch. It took her aback for a moment. There was something vaguely disturbing about his even-tempered manner in the face of her anger. It made her want to push and prod him until he reacted as she expected. But nothing she said or did seemed to set him off.

  “There is no relationship between us,” Eleanor said firmly. Joshua’s calm persistence was fraying her already taut nerves. “I’ve already explained my feelings and reasons. They haven’t changed.”

  His chiseled features clouded. “Your reasons are a bunch of bull and I’m not buying it. I plan on using any means necessary to change your mind. Haven’t you ever heard the expression, ‘All’s fair in love and war’?”

  “This is neither,” she huffed, crossing her arms defensively.

  “It sure feels like a war from this side.” Joshua stiffened, his set expression emphasizing his determination. “You refuse to go out with me, and if this is the only way I can spend time with you, then this is what I’ll do.”

  Eleanor threw up her hands in disgust. There would be no changing his mind. Fine. If he wanted to work there, then so be it. Her eyes seethed with the frustration of all the emotions she couldn’t put into words, but she commanded herself to let them go.

  Compressing her lips, she glanced at his clothes. He wasn’t wearing a suit or a tie, but the neatly pressed slacks and cotton shirt were equally inappropriate for this environment.

  So he thinks he wants to work here? She smiled grimly, wondering how enthusiastic he would be when some child accidentally dropped glue on those expensive leather shoes.

  “If you won’t listen to reason, there’s nothing else I can say or do,” Eleanor retorted ungraciously, barely managing to stop short of glowering.

  She normally wasn’t such a surly loser, but she was getting sick and tired of Joshua always getting his way. This was precisely the sort of problem, she contended, that made a relationship between them impossible.

  “Maybe my motivation for volunteering is different from the norm, but I’m both able and willing to work.” Joshua glanced around nervously. “I won’t . . . umm, have to do anything directly with the children, will I? Like read stories?”

  For a moment she was thrown by the glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes. There was a rush to her heart that felt strangely like tenderness, but she squelched it. Finally, she had discovered something that seemed to crack that ultracompetent veneer.

  “Don’t you like kids?”

  “I don’t dislike children,” he clarified slowly. “But I know very little about them. I’m an only child, remember? No nieces or nephews to practice my child-friendly skills on.”

  “Then you shouldn’t be working in the children’s department,” Eleanor declared, determined to exploit this marginal weakness. “I can send you up to the adult reference department or, better still, the technical services division. They work behind the scenes. You won’t come in contact with any library patrons, only staff members. I noticed several cartons of books were delivered today, and an extra pair of hands is always welcome.”

  “That rather defeats the whole purpose of my being here,” Joshua responded firmly.

  Eleanor sighed. The discussion had come full circle and she was in exactly the same position she had been when it started, stuck with Joshua as a volunteer. The irony of that was not lost on her.

  “How are your cutting skills?” Eleanor asked, giving into the inevitable yet hoping once he realized the type of simple jobs he would be asked to do, he’d change his mind. “The volunteers pre-cut the crafts for our programs. I’m sure you’ll find that job riveting and intellectually stimulating.”

  His gaze rambled over her body. “As long as I’m near you while I’m working, I’ll be stimulated enough.”

  She let out a sigh that was part frustration, part excitement. How would she ever be able to concentrate on anything with him around, when one sultry glance had her heart kicking nervously against her ribs? She probably would have found that flicker of admiration in his eyes demeaning coming from any other man, but not from him.

  Beyond Joshua’s head she could see the story room door move the barest fraction. “Okay, Mr. Volunteer, here’s your first task. Seems like I’ve got some curious kids fooling around in the story room.”

  He turned, then nodded his head, apparently understanding where she was indicating.

  “I’d like you to go and chase whoever is in there out, and make sure they stay out of the room. If they’ve messed up the books and puppets, which I’m sure they have, put the materials back in their designated locations. All the cupboards are clearly marked, so you shouldn’t have any difficulty figuring out where everything belongs.”

  She pushed past him out of the office and headed in the opposite direction.

  “Where are you going?”

  The slight edge of panic she detected in his voice brought the first real smile to her lips. “I’ve got to check on the video equipment for my program. But don’t worry. As you are so fond of saying, I’ll be back.” She turned her he
ad, smiled sweetly, and without breaking stride added, “Eventually.”

  Joshua hefted the heavy stack of books onto the top shelf and lined them neatly along the edge, precisely as Eleanor had shown him. He flexed his shoulder muscles and reached for a second pile, surprised at how heavy they were. If he kept this up for a few weeks, he could cut his workout time in his home gym in half.

  Once the books were all correctly aligned, he glanced over at the story room, verifying that the door remained closed. When he had gone in the room earlier, as ordered by Eleanor, he had discovered two energetic youngsters busily rifling through the books and puppets stacked on the shelves. They had shrieked with terror at his arrival, before he had even had a chance to ask them to stop.

  Hearing the children’s screams had brought their mother charging through the door, glaring at him like he was some sort of monster intent on brutal harm. Only his bright red volunteer badge had saved him. After seeing that he was in fact a member of the staff, the mother had left in a huff, shepherding her dear wee ones away from the nasty man, oblivious to the fact that if she had been keeping an eye on her kids in the first place, the incident never would have occurred.

  Years of dealing with employees, clients, and competitors might have given him some keen insight and excellent instincts toward people, but they were useless in this environment of children and their mothers.

  Joshua took another glance at the story room door and started on the next section of shelving. A tingle of awareness crept up his spine and he experienced the distinct feeling of being closely watched.

  Preparing a sultry smile, he lifted his head, but instead of encountering Eleanor’s lovely face, he found himself returning the stare of a little boy, possibly four, maybe five or even six years old. Having no frame of reference made it difficult for Joshua to judge.

  “What are you doin’?” the child asked, coming closer.

  “Moving the books.”

  “Can I help?”

  The eager, hopeful look on the boy’s face canceled the immediate urge to refuse. “Maybe when I reach the lower shelf you can place a few of the books on the bottom,” Joshua replied, hoping the child would lose interest by then.