“I could give you a ballpark, but honestly you really should talk to Earl Easterling,” he said. “He’s the guy who does the bids for all of Easterling Construction’s projects. Do you want me to give you his digits?”
“Yes, please,” Charlie said. She found a scrap piece of paper in one of the pockets of her sweater, and grabbed a pen from her topknot.
Hank wrote Earl’s number down in quick even strokes and then handed the paper back to her. Her warm smile nearly knocked him to his knees.
“Thanks,” she said, bending to pick up one of the books on the floor. She and Hank reached for one at the same time. They knocked heads and stood up both rubbing a sore spot.
“ There’s a Red Wing game on tonight, Hank said. “Do you want come over?”
“I wish,” Charlie said. “But I’ve got plans.”
“No worries,” Hank said. Shot down again. He was unable to look her in the face as he turned to jog down the main staircase.
Dude! What are you thinking? She’s totally out of your league.
CHAPTER FOUR
Charlie waited until she was sure Hank had left the building before she ventured back up to the third floor to check on the repairs he’d made in the ladies room. Not only had he fixed the problem, he’d cleaned up afterward. Even the taps on the sink look liked they’d been polished.
She paused briefly right before hitting the stairs to fix some books misfiled on a shelf. She couldn’t help herself. It was like a compulsion.
Public Service Announcement: You think you’re helping when you re-shelve books at the library on your own, but don’t. Just don’t. Leave that stuff to the professionals.
When Charlie returned to the main lobby she was surprised to find Ariel sorting books behind the Information Desk.
“I’m going to need some help in Mystery.” Ariel said, sighing in frustration.
“What’s up?” Charlie asked.
“Someone decided to get literal in that section,” Ariel said. “All the spines of the books are facing the inside of the shelves.”
“Crap. Not again. The little dears,” Charlie said. “I wish they’d find a more constructive outlet for their creativity.”
“Me, too.”
“Where’s Effie?” Charlie asked in an absent-minded way. She was focused on loading a book cart with science texts that needed to be returned to the basement stacks. “I thought she was working the Information Desk this afternoon.”
“I’m covering for her. Katrina called her into a meeting.”
Charlie’s heart stopped. She stood up and spun around to face Ariel. She took a short, ragged breath.
“What? Are you serious?” A note of panic filled Charlie’s voice.
“Completely,” Mia said. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Of course not. Everything's fine,” Charlie said. Unable to keep the look of alarm off her face.
Charlie jumped in to help Ariel sort books, but she was unable to tear her eyes away from the carved wooden door to the head librarian’s office. If only she had x-ray vision.
Effie was her favorite person on the earth. She wouldn’t make it through one day at the library without her.
What if Katrina called Effie into her office to let her go?
Or to force her into retirement?
“Do you have any idea what Katrina wanted?” Charlie asked, an edge of anxiety sneaking into her voice.
“Nope,” Ariel said. “You’ll have to ask Effie.”
Charlie stood in front of the big wooden door, willing it to open. “How long have they been in there?”
“A half an hour, give or take,” Ariel said.
Cold prickles of fear rolled down Charlie’s spine.
What could be taking so long?
Charlie sent Ariel off to correct the problems in Mysteries and Thrillers, and took over the chair at the Information Desk. She attempted to focus on the library’s catalogue, but she couldn’t focus knowing Effie was in Katrina’s office behind closed doors.
When the door finally opened, Charlie jumped to her feet, surprised to see Effie exit with a smile on her face.
“What did Cruella DeVille want?” Charlie asked.
“A Valentine’s Day party.”
“Seriously? Has she looked at a calendar? Valentine’s Day is five days from now,” Charlie said.
“Yes. I am aware,” Effie teased. “Every time I enter the library, I am assaulted by your Valentine’s Day-themed display.”
“You’re welcome,” Charlie said with a hint of snark. “Seriously. It’s a little late to plan a party now, don’t you think?” She made little attempt to disguise her anger.
“Yes. Expect it is,” Effie said placidly.
“Did you point that out to her?” Charlie asked.
“No,” Effie said. “Honestly, I didn’t think it was my place.”
“I fucking hate Valentine’s Day,” Charlie said.
“Yes. You’ve made your feelings about it perfectly clear.”
“Okay. Well, we can do this. A Valentine’s Day party. For kids, right?” Charlie asked. “We can pass out heart-shaped cookies and Hawaiian Punch at the next Story Time and call it a Valentine’s Day party.”
“That’s not what Katrina has requested,” Effie said. “She wants a party. For grown-ups. For singles to mix and mingle and get to know each other better. And for couples to be able take a moment to enjoy each other's company. And she wants all of Good Harbor to come out and make an appearance. Every man, woman, and child. In a show of support in the library’s community room.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Charlie said, covering her eyes with her hands.
“I wish I was.”
“It’s a test,” Charlie said. “Katrina is determined to shut this old library down. She’s certain the community is no longer interested in in a public library.”
“I think she’s wrong,” Effie said.
“So do I,” Charlie agreed. “So if we put a call out, do you think they will come?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Effie said. “But, we have to try.”
Charlie slammed her fist down on the counter. “I don’t understand. Why is she asking you to do this? And not me?”
“Katrina dumps so much of her work on you,” Effie said. “It’s no secret you’re way behind on getting the library’s catalogue online. And let’s be clear, someday in the not-so distant future, she’s going to call you out for it. No doubt she'll wait until she's in front of the Board of Directors.”
“It would really help if I could make a portion of the collection inactive while I do the updates, but she refuses to let me.”
“You’ve got to focus and get it done, Charlie. It’s imperative. Until you do, your job will be at risk.” Effie placed her hand on Charlie’s shoulder.
“I know you’re right,” Charlie said. “But as the children’s librarian, you shouldn’t be planning gatherings for the Good Harbor community at large.”
“You’re absolutely right, but I got the idea from Katrina that my job depended on it.”
“Shit,” Charlie said. She took a deep breath. It was as if she’d taken a physical blow to her stomach. Getting behind on the online catalogue had allowed Katrina to have the upper hand. She needed to catch up on her work, or else she wouldn’t be able to protect herself, let alone Effie or any other valued member of the library staff. She placed her hand on top of Effie’s and made a promise to herself to work harder to get things done. “She asked you for all that. In five days?”
“Yep,” Effie said.
“Just because she put you in charge of the party doesn’t mean you can’t ask for help. She did this because she wants you to fail. She wants to have a reason to fire you, or at the very least, a reason for you to want to leave of your own volition.”
“Do you think for one minute I thought anything else?” Effie said. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. Fortunately, Katrina has overlooked one thing.”
“What’s that?
” Charlie asked.
“I’m a total badass,” Effie said, giving Charlie a cheeky wink.
Charlie spent the afternoon updating the online catalogue on a computer in the third floor stacks. It was her favorite part of the Dewey Decimal system. When the world became more than she could bear, Charlie knew she could count on 823.7-91: English Literature, Nineteenth Century through English Literature, Twentieth Century providing her with comfort and put her in close proximity to Mr. Darcy, Edward Rochester, and Maxim de Winter—who despite their obvious flaws—were men worthy of their women.
Charlie was focused on her work when she noticed a pair of Nike Air Jordans bookending a pair of dirty pink Chuck Taylor high-tops in the middle of the row three aisles over. His jeans were frayed and damp with rain along the bottom hem. Hers were turned up at the ankle. Charlie didn’t need to see their faces to know they were kissing and touching in a most intimate way. The sounds they were making made her blush. She stepped into their row. So caught up in the moment, they didn’t even look up.
Sweet Baby James!
His right hand was under her Carly Rae Jepson T-shirt. His other hand...well, Charlie didn’t want to guess where his other hand was, but she was fairly certain it was the one causing gasps of pleasure to escape from her throat.
She cleared her throat. “If your activity in the stacks doesn’t directly involve researching or reading a book,” she said using her playground voice. “Please return to the first floor. Thank you.”
Charlie waited until they exited the stacks. The girl didn’t have the grace to blush as she pushed past her, but the boy did. They giggled and disappeared down the stairs.
“I couldn’t believe my eyes. There they were making out right in front of me and all my book boyfriends,” Charlie said. She and Effie were, sharing cinnamon lattes during their afternoon break in a booth in the front window of Cuppa Joe’s.
“I’m sure your book boyfriends have witnessed much worse,” Effie said. “The third floor doesn’t get all that much traffic. It’s been a favorite spot for secret lovers for as long as I can remember.”
“Not all of my book boyfriends are up there. Which is probably for the best. Some of them shouldn't be subjected to that kind of behavior. Funny, sweet, and loyal, Gilbert Blythe, for example. It's a good thing he's in a whole different section.
“What about Rhett Butler?” Effie asked. “He’s not there either.”
“A handsome devil, and the ultimate bad boy,” Charlie nodded. “He's been there, done that.”
“Maybe. I broke up him because frankly, he didn’t give a damn,” Effie said.
Charlie giggled. “Ned Nickerson was the book boyfriend who ruined me for life. I believed every girl got a convertible roadster, and a hot college quarterback to help solve crimes when they turned sixteen. I was sadly misinformed.”
“First appearance of Ned Nickerson in a Nancy Drew mystery?” Effie asked.
“I’ll have to Google it,” Charlie said.
“Don’t bother. The Clue in the Diary, the seventh volume in the first series.” Effie said.
“Show off,” Charlie laughed. “You know everything. Was Ned your first book boyfriend too?”
“Ned was a sweet boy, but I was always partial to Carson Drew,” Effie said. “I was more into sipping whiskey and smoking jackets, than beer and varsity jackets. Even when I was in Kindergarten.”
Charlie giggled, looking at Effie with open affection. The older woman always knew how to make her feel better. She was also smart and wickedly funny.
Effie caught Charlie taking a quick glance in Hank’s direction. “He’s a nice boy, Charlie.”
“He’s a pretty boy, Effie,” I said. “With a bad boy reputation.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear. He reminds me a little of Ned Nickerson, don’t you think?” Effie asked. “Handsome college quarterback. With smarts enough to be Nancy’s partner-in-crime.”
“I know what you’re doing, Effie. And I’m not falling for it. Sometimes you sound more like my fairy godmother than my friend.”
“Who says I’m not,” Effie said with an impish wink.
***
Hank took a big bite of his burger, trying and failing to ignore Charlie and Effie who were giggling and whispering two booths away from where he was seated at the counter.
Charlie glanced in his direction and caught him looking at her. Their eyes met. Hank’s heart skipped a beat. This morning in the library he’d watched her fondly running a finger along a row of dusty old books in the stacks. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was like watching a nature program on the Discovery channel.
The shy librarian in her natural habitat,” the narrator of the imaginary documentary whispered in his ear—except for Hank it was porn.
Unable to maintain eye contact with her in the diner, Hank returned his full attention to the burger and fries on his plate. He didn’t look up again until Loretta hovered over his table.
“You not feeling well, Hank?” Loretta asked.
“I’m fine,” he said, hoping Loretta wouldn’t notice he was pushing his food around the plate in order to linger and watch Charlie on her break.
“You’re not eating,” Loretta insisted.
“I had a big breakfast,” Hank said, lying through his teeth.
Loretta tore off his bill and set it on the table. “All right. Take your time, darling. And see if you can do some more damage. I’d hate to see those sweet potato fries go to waste.”
Hank couldn’t take his eyes off Charlie. Not every chick in Good Harbor would give a lonely spinster the time of day. He had a special place in his heart for Effie. She’d befriended him when he was struggling in first grade just after his mother died. He’d never forget her kindness.
Hank’s full attention was so focused on watching Charlie and Effie, he didn’t notice when his best friend, Roy, slid into the seat at the counter next to him. The manager of the local art gallery, Roy Takagi was half Hank’s size in both height and weight. No one would guess they had anything in common, but the two men shared a passion for art.
“Hey,” Roy said. “What’s going on?”
“I wanted to ask you about a woman,” Hank said.
“Whoa. Dude. You know I don’t swing that way,” Roy said, getting to his feet.
“I know, but I could really use some advice. And you’re the only person I know I can ask who won’t gossip about me all over town.”
“Wait, you’re serious?” Roy asked. “I thought you were a total man-slut.”
“You really shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”
“I’ve been dating a guy who works at the post office. He tells me it’s the center of all gossip in the universe.”
“Really? I thought that was the library,” Hank said. “Seriously. I need your help.”
“So you’re saying there’s a woman in Good Harbor who’s immune to the charms of Hank Carter?”
Hank shot him a look. “It hasn’t always been easy for me.”
“Bullshit. You forget. I went to high school and college with you. Chicks have always been easy for you. You just don’t count most of them, because you don’t like easy.”
Hank pressed his lips together, but stayed silent. Maybe Roy knew him a little too well.
“Who is she?” Roy asked.
“The assistant librarian.”
“Seriously. You’ve got a thing for Marian, the Librarian?”
Hank nodded. “She also happens to be my next-door neighbor. She lives in the other half of the duplex.”
“Now it’s getting juicy. Spill the beans. How have you approached the target? Have you actually gotten up the nerve to ask her out?”
“Yeah. Twice.”
“And you struck out?”
“Yep.” Hank balled up his napkin and threw it down on top of his plate.
“Well. I’ve got to admit, I’m a little surprised. Maybe you should try again. Third time’s the charm.”
“Seriously
?” Hank crossed his arms over his massive chest making him seem even bigger and imposing than normal “That’s your advice? From my perspective, it’s three strikes, you’re out. So I want to know what I’m doing wrong before I do it again.”
Roy ran his fingers through his hair, as if it would help stimulate his thoughts. “What exactly did you offer her on the dates you asked her on?”
“I was trying to keep it casual,” Hank said. “I asked her over to my place to watch the Red Wings and chill out in front of the fireplace?”
“Seriously? You asked her for ‘Netflix and Chill’ on the first date?” Roy asked incredulously.
“What’s wrong with that?” Hank asked.
“You do know that means ‘sex’, right?” Roy explained.
“Are you kidding me?” Hank asked. A tad of embarrassment tinted his cheeks pink.
“No. I’m not,” Roy asked, unable to hide his giggle. “I can’t believe you of all people didn't know that. I'm even more surprised that you have no idea what a woman wants.”
“This girl—Charlie is different.”
“Maybe she doesn’t like hockey,” Roy insisted. “Have you thought of that?”
“She does. She said she loves it.”
“She obviously doesn’t consider it foreplay,” Roy said. “Do you have any idea at all what she does like?”
“Books. When she moved in, she had more boxes of books than she had boxes of shoes.”
“Wow. That is unusual. Okay. So I think the solution to this one is easy.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me,” Hank said, a bit of frustration giving his voice an edge. “Because I’m not putting the clues together.”
“Ask her to go out and do an activity with you. Make it something that isn’t sexual. Something that doesn’t involve her sitting on your sofa, inches away from the bedroom where she knows you’ve given half the women in town good, good lovin’.”
“I think my reputation has been greatly exaggerated.”
“Be her friend,” Roy said. “Don’t try to push any kind of romantic agenda.”
Valentine Kisses: A Kiss to Last a Lifetime Page 33