by Olivia Dade
After further thought, he reached out a hand and tugged the quilt that had covered Angie over to his side of the bed. He felt foolish doing it, even in private, but he couldn’t stop himself. He brought a handful to his face and inhaled deeply. It smelled like her. Like them. Tropical and musky.
Only one more task to accomplish before he let himself go back to sleep. Rolling over, he grabbed his cell from the nightstand. At some point that night, he’d programmed Angie’s number into his contacts. He wrote a quick text: Best night of my life. Can’t wait until tonight. Wish I could see you sooner. Grant. After a brief hesitation, he sent it. He didn’t want to distract her from the road, but he did want her to know he was thinking about her.
He stayed awake until he got her response five minutes later. Ditto. P.S. I pulled off the road to read your text and answer it. Don’t worry. He smiled at the message. How could she predict his thoughts so accurately? It was as if they already knew everything of importance about each other. Their characters. Their hearts.
The details didn’t concern him. No matter what he discovered about her, he knew his feelings wouldn’t change . . . except maybe to deepen.
With a last happy sigh, he put the phone back on his nightstand and closed his eyes. He had plenty of time to get more rest. Plenty of time to dream about Angie and their future together. The introductory meeting for his new job at the Nice County Public Library didn’t start for hours yet.
8
Angie’s phone pinged as she turned into a parking space outside the Downtown Niceville Library, Nice County Public Library’s central and largest branch. Around her, other librarians from around the county exited their cars and walked in chatty clumps to the large brick building. Cutting her engine, she glanced at the screen display.
Another text from Grant. I know your meeting will go well. Don’t worry.
She thumbed a quick reply. With you on my side, how could it not? Have a great day, sweet pea. Good luck at your new job, whatever it is. (We’ll discuss tonight.)
Penny pulled into the space next to her, and Angie could see their coworker Mary riding in the passenger seat. Angie waved and climbed out of her car. Once she hit the sidewalk, she conducted a last-minute survey of her outfit, which she’d dug out of her closet and finished ironing an hour before. Conservative black pencil skirt that fell slightly below her knees. Tailored black jacket. Low-heeled pumps. A rose-colored silk camisole whose neckline only dipped to her collarbone. She’d pulled her hair back in a chignon and applied actual makeup. Okay, tinted moisturizer and strawberry-flavored Chapstick, but close enough.
All in all, she couldn’t appear any more respectable. Which was the point of Angie’s one designated “I’m totally an adult” outfit. Would Tina remember these clothes from Angie’s interview for Battlefield Library manager? Or every presentation Angie had ever given anywhere? Hopefully not.
She took one last look down at herself. Yup. Impeccable and proper. Fortunately, her supervisor and coworkers couldn’t see what her modest clothing concealed. Inner thighs that ached from being spread most of the night. Abdominal muscles that protested the excessive amount of hip-lifting she’d demanded from them during the last twelve hours. Faint bruises the exact size and shape of Grant’s fingertips on her hips, from when he’d lost control their second time together.
Overall, Angie definitely felt well fucked. Probably because she had been.
She kept that private knowledge clutched close to her heart. Maybe it would help her survive whatever this staff meeting might bring. That said, she should try to put her magnificent night with Grant out of her mind until the meeting finished. She had a distinct feeling administrators wouldn’t appreciate seeing a branch manager overcome by lust in the middle of a presentation about scheduling concerns. Then again, it might liven up the proceedings. Hard to say, really.
“What’s going on with the suit?” Penny asked as soon as she and Mary exited her car. “Are you trying to sell us insurance? Or is this a body-snatching situation?”
“I think you look nice,” Mary said softly. “The pink looks pretty against your skin.”
Angie smiled at Mary, the newest employee at their branch. “See, Penny? Mary knows how to speak to her supervisor. Maybe she should give you some pointers after the meeting.”
Mary’s eyes got big. “Oh no,” she demurred. “I know Penny thinks you look nice too. She was just surprised. You don’t usually look quite so . . . polished.”
“You mean I usually come to work with wet hair, no makeup, and whatever I find clean in my closet that day,” Angie teased.
Mary sputtered and looked to Penny for help.
“See?” Penny said, hooking Mary’s arm with her own. “That’s why it doesn’t pay to say nice things to Angie. Consider this a life lesson.”
“Did I or did I not hook you up with your smokin’ hot, genius writer boyfriend? Where’s the gratitude, Penny?” Angie asked.
“It faded after you had me put up a million signs referring to the penis of a barely covered, oil-slicked Cupid.”
“We took them down and shredded them last night,” Angie reminded her.
“Too late. The gratitude had already disappeared.”
“She’s right about me,” Angie told Mary with a laugh. “I’m incorrigible. Someone as sweet as you should have a more respectable boss. Who knows? Maybe they’re demoting me and you’ll get one today.”
For all she knew, it was true. But, God, she hoped not. Their all-woman crew at Battlefield kicked ass. Penny had become Angie’s closest confidante over the past few years, and her friend’s reserve among strangers hid the heart of a lioness. Mary’s natural timidity had started to fade after two months of exposure to Angie, but her sweet disposition and strong work ethic remained. The three of them made a spectacular librarian team. The best in all the branches, if you asked Angie.
Penny’s smile had faded at Angie’s remark.
“Look,” Penny stated, “I don’t know what Tina’s going to announce today, but you can count on my support. No matter what. You’re a great librarian, a great boss, and a great friend. I have your back, Angie.”
“Me too,” Mary declared, her voice as firm as Angie had ever heard it.
As they walked into Downtown’s high-ceilinged entrance, their friend Helen flagged them down. Her red hair pulled into perky pigtails, she jogged to catch up with the threesome.
“So,” Angie drawled when Helen drew near, “I’ll say . . . four.”
The other women turned to her with confused frowns.
“Huh?” Helen said.
Angie dug in her purse and pulled out a twenty. “That’s my guess as to how many times someone’s going to call you Pippi Longstocking today. Anyone care to make a wager?”
“That’s a sucker bet,” Helen said. “I’m not taking it.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Angie told Helen. “You’ve got a sexy schoolgirl thing going on with the pigtails and the horn-rimmed glasses. It works for you. I’m only saying that people are going to expect you to be a sexy schoolgirl who also carries a horse over her head. Be prepared.”
Mary giggled, and Angie patted her arm.
“How’s life at the reference desk?” Penny asked Helen. She shook her head admiringly. “I have to hand it to you. You’re a tough lady. You couldn’t pay me enough to deal with crowds like you do here at Downtown.”
“Some days turn out better than others.” Helen shrugged. “You know how it goes. But oh, my goodness, Penny! You have to see my steampunk display before you head back to Battlefield. I’ve got gears and goggles, and I even managed to score a little monitor that plays clips from steampunk movies on a continuous loop.”
“Nerd,” Penny teased.
“You’d know,” Helen said. “I’ve never met a woman who read so much in my life.”
“I read too,” Angie protested.
“Yeah, but mostly erotica. And you don’t usually get far before you have to take a ‘personal break,’” Pe
nny said, curling her fingers into quotation marks.
“Just contemplating the beauty of great literature.”
“Your solo contemplation of beautiful literature tends to slow down your reading. And eat through your battery supply.”
Angie strode ahead of the group and turned around so she was walking backward and facing them. “Wait, what’s this I found? Oh, my God, Penny, it’s a bird! And it’s flipping for you!” She extended a middle finger in Penny’s direction.
Even Mary laughed, and Angie smiled in satisfaction at the success of her little ploy. She didn’t want her friends to worry on her behalf. Nothing like a little good-natured chop-busting to distract people from their concerns.
“What did I miss?” Angie heard from behind. She turned around and saw their friend Constance, who managed the Bookmobile department.
“Nothing much,” Helen told Constance. “We’re finding out how many batteries Angie uses during a typical week of reading her smut.”
Constance didn’t respond. Instead, she appeared to be staring intently at a particular spot on Angie’s neck. Angie’s hand flew up to cover the area, but it was too late.
“No battery put a hickey on her neck, that’s for sure,” Constance said. “I think our little Angie has a story for us.”
“Little?” Angie snorted.
“Figure of speech.” Constance waved a hand in dismissal. “You’ve been holding out on us. Who sucked on your neck, Angie? Did he deserve the privilege? Please say yes.”
The other women all stared at her with widely varying expressions. Mary looked embarrassed. Penny looked worried. Helen looked curious. And Constance looked determined to get the necessary information and make sure her friend was in good hands. And mouth.
“Ladies, we’re standing about five feet from the conference room,” Angie said. “I’m close enough to getting fired as it is without discussing my sex life at a staff meeting. Let’s talk about this during our girls’ night out on Friday.”
The rest of the women grumbled in reluctant agreement and headed into the room. The high ceilings of the space only seemed to amplify the sound of a hundred or so library employees greeting each other, laughing, and exchanging gossip. Mostly women, of course, but also a few men. The IT department, for instance, sat in their own little clump, like an island of geeky manhood in the midst of a nerdy feminine ocean.
That department desperately needs some estrogen, Angie thought. If nothing else, it might stop them from discussing the need for more literature about emotionless killer robots. Especially when we’re trying to talk to them about why our computers don’t boot properly.
Angie’s group found a cluster of empty seats near the front. They shuffled along the row of chairs, took their seats, and dragged notepads out of various bags. Angie looked down the row at the other women and smiled at the sight of so many of her friends gathered in one place.
Please. Please don’t let this become my last staff meeting. No matter what happens today, please let me keep my job. Because I love it, most of all. But also because I’d miss my friends. And the thought of proving my parents right makes me sick to my stomach.
As soon as they’d settled into their seats, Penny turned to Angie. “Why didn’t you say something to me about a new man?” she asked quietly. “Have I let Jack distract me from our friendship these past few weeks? If I have, I feel terrible.”
“No, honey,” Angie whispered. “I just met him last night.”
At that, Penny winced. “Angie . . .”
“I’m not sure I deserve a lecture from the woman who fucked her boyfriend on a pile of stuffed animals from the children’s area. After knowing him approximately five hours, might I add.” She watched Penny squirm a minute before continuing. “I swear, Penny, I’m not making another reckless, stupid decision. It’s different. Grant’s different.”
“Grant?” Penny’s brow furrowed. “That’s odd. I saw a guy out in the hall whose—”
Just then, Tina tapped the microphone on the dais at the front of the conference room, and Penny cut herself off. Resting her notepad on her knee, she scrawled a sentence and showed it to Angie. We’ll talk later. Angie drew a smiley face next to Penny’s note and turned to face the front of the room.
Once Tina ensured the microphone worked properly, she lowered it closer to her mouth and brought the meeting to order. She ran through the usual announcements, praising the hard work of the library staff and reminding them of upcoming events and initiatives.
Then Tina paused and cleared her throat. “As some of you may know, our director of branch services, Doris Tippington, recently retired after almost forty years of service. She wanted to keep it quiet, so we didn’t make a staff-wide statement or plan a retirement party.”
Penny wrote again on her notepad. Did you know?
Angie shook her head in bewilderment. Why hadn’t Tina told them?
Tina added, “She said the job had become too much for her.” The assistant director sent a pointed look in Angie’s direction.
Angie cringed a little bit. Poor Doris. At some point during the last several years, the woman had given up on reforming the Battlefield Library manager. Angie hadn’t seen Doris step foot in Battlefield for months.
“We conducted a search for a young, dynamic librarian who could direct our branches with an eye to data collection and analysis,” Tina continued.
Ugh. In other words, more interested in numbers than people, Angie wrote on her pad.
Maybe it won’t be so bad, Penny wrote back.
“We found the perfect candidate,” Tina declared. “He’s smart, he’s full of ideas, and he’s even from this area. We managed to convince him to return here from Baltimore.”
A man? I’ve never worked for a dude before, Angie scribbled. She was looking down at Penny’s notepad and waiting for her friend’s response when Tina finished her introduction.
“Please welcome the newest addition to the Nice County Public Library family, our new director of branch services, Grant Peterson.”
As the polite applause began, Angie’s head snapped up.
No. No, it couldn’t be. She hadn’t seen him this morning on the library grounds or in the building. And surely she’d have known if he’d accepted a position as her new supervisor. Except, of course, for the fact that she’d only met him yesterday. And hadn’t allowed him to talk about his work. And hadn’t been willing to discuss her own work, either.
Then her heart seemed to cease beating in her chest. She saw Grant—her Grant—tall and handsome in his dark gray suit, walking toward the dais. A pleasant smile on his face, even though the shadows under his eyes revealed his fatigue. His dark curls sternly tamed, his oxfords polished, and his white button-down shirt perfectly pressed.
Striding to the microphone, glancing out over the crowd, and seeing . . .
Her. Oh, fuck. Even in a crowded room, he somehow found her eyes with no apparent effort. She watched his mouth drop open and his eyebrows rise. Then he closed his mouth, straightened his shoulders, and visibly pulled himself together. Glancing at the notes in his hand, he began to speak.
“I’m delighted to serve as the new director of branch services for Nice County Public Library. I know most of you here at Downtown won’t see me too much, but please know I’m always available to answer questions or offer assistance.” His even voice swept through the room, quieting the whispers that had begun at his introduction.
Angie could spot dozens of female eyes and a few male ones glued to Grant. Assessing him. Sizing him up. And not in a professional way, either. On the one hand, she couldn’t blame them for finding the man sexy. On the other . . . she could. Definitely. She wanted to march up to the stage and slap a sign on Grant that read PROPERTY OF ANGIE BURROWES. TRESPASSERS BEWARE. (NO, REALLY, I’LL BRING THE PAIN.)
“But I’ll be working most closely with our outlying branches, and I’ll meet with their managers and staff soon,” Grant said.
Well, she thought, you’ve alr
eady attended your first meeting with the Battlefield Library manager. Most of that meeting took place naked and horizontal, but still. We met.
Her thoughts tumbled over each other. Grant now directly supervised her. Could they continue the relationship? Not in public, obviously—but in secret? Her heart briefly lifted at the prospect, but . . . No. No. Grant would get fired if anyone found out. Maybe her too. And from what she’d seen of Grant, he wouldn’t condone such an important breach of professional conduct. Her cautious lover would never hide a secretive affair that threatened his job, not for the sake of a relationship born out of a single night together. And given his abysmal poker face, even if he tried—which he wouldn’t—he’d fail miserably.
Even if he were willing to lie for the sake of their newfound connection, Angie didn’t want to hide. Didn’t want to make more reckless decisions that only caused her pain in the end. She wanted her job and a relationship with a man who could be with her in public. Who’d tell the world she was his and he was hers. No regrets.
She looked down at her hands. They were shaking. And a familiar prickling sensation was growing behind her eyes, as if she were fighting tears. Angie knew better, though. She was an adult. So what if a potential relationship had transformed into an ill-advised one-night stand? So what if the thought of facing Grant again—as her fucking boss, for Christ’s sake—terrified her? So what if her chest felt tight, as if something open and vulnerable in there had slammed shut?
Angie was a big girl. She’d deal with it. No crying. No broken heart. Just her and her usual need to face the consequences of her reckless decisions. Time to put on a brave face, as she’d done so many times before.
Tina edged in front of Grant and grabbed the microphone. “Why don’t I take this opportunity to introduce the various branch managers to Grant? When I call your name, please stand up.”
No. No. No no no. Fuck, no. My brave face isn’t ready for its public debut!
“Vivian Rosenfeld, manager of the River Run Library.”
Vivian stood, the roomful of librarians applauded, and Grant sent her a friendly grin.