by Olivia Dade
He clasped his hands together and leaned forward, trying to impress the truth of his words upon Tina. “She’s sincere about following the library’s rules from this point forward. As I said yesterday, she couldn’t cancel the contest she’d already created without causing an uproar. An uproar, I might add, that not only would have resulted in her firing, but also led to increased and negative publicity for the library. If she’d canceled it, don’t you think someone would have complained on the library’s Facebook page? Or even in the local paper? I’d argue that the Nice County community remained happier and the library’s reputation benefited because she didn’t cancel the contest.”
She cast him a sharp glance. “Are you saying Angie was right to lie?”
“No. I’m saying she didn’t have any good options at that point, unless she was willing to give up a job she loves and at which she excels.”
He reached into his briefcase and brought out two copies of his handout. He gave one to Tina and kept the other for himself. “Which brings me to my next point. All relevant data shows Angie’s excellence as a branch manager. She deserves to keep her job because of her exemplary service to the library.”
The first page of graphs in the handout plotted the circulation statistics for the various Nice County Public Library branches. He pointed to those graphs as he discussed them with Tina. “Take a look at Battlefield’s numbers over the past seven years, since Angie first became branch manager. Every community usage statistic has skyrocketed since then: books checked out, holds, computer use, program attendance, and everything else I could find to measure. The usage of that library dwarfs the corresponding usage of every other branch in our system, excluding Downtown.”
“Battlefield is an area with rapid population growth,” Tina pointed out. “It makes sense that library usage would increase faster than in our more stagnant areas of Nice County.”
“I controlled for that variable. Please see the second chart. Even accounting for Battlefield’s population density and growth, that library still stands head and shoulders above the others. Under the old manager, it didn’t. The difference is Angie.”
“Correlation does not imply causation.”
“True,” he said, tipping his head in acknowledgment of her point. “But I started asking a few patrons this week why they came to the Battlefield Library. Overwhelmingly, they pointed to the professionalism and warmth of the librarians there. Quite a few specifically praised how hard Angie worked to find them good books and plan fun programs.”
Tina flipped to the second page of his handout, which calculated the preliminary results of his survey. Looking thoughtful, she tapped the end of her pen on the page.
“I found another interesting statistic,” he continued. “According to my initial results, almost a third of Battlefield’s patrons live closer to another library branch. They choose to drive to Battlefield because they prefer it there.”
He sat up straight, pushing away the papers in front of him with a flick of his hand. “Look, you can take all the time you want to look at my numbers. But by all measurable statistics, Angie’s branch is the most successful one you have. Preliminary data indicates that she’s the main reason for that. She’s the one who creates popular programs. She’s the one who oversees her staff. She’s the one you need to keep.” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Not me.”
“Are you certain your bias hasn’t influenced these findings?”
“I reached these conclusions based on raw data, which I can easily show you how to find and tabulate. Feel free to double-check my work.”
“Hmmm.” Tina leaned back in her chair and tilted her head as she observed him.
“You brought me into the library system because of my scientific approach and my ability to analyze data. True, I haven’t had enough time on the job to get the full picture, but the parts I’ve seen have convinced me of one thing: You shouldn’t fire Angie. Not if she promises to make better decisions in the future.”
“She’s made that promise before.”
“I know. She’ll keep it this time.”
Tina continued to stare at him. “You seem to think you know Angie quite well, especially for a man who met her such a short time ago. Are you sure she didn’t enter into a relationship with you in order to save her job?”
His fists clenched on the table. He quickly lowered them to his lap, where Tina couldn’t see. “I’m positive. Angie doesn’t use people. She can be reckless, but she’s honorable. I have a serious problem with anyone, and I mean anyone”—he glared at Tina, despite his best efforts—“who’d accuse her of having sex with her supervisor for job security.”
Tina looked down at the handout, covering her mouth with one hand.
“Did you know about the contest and keep it from me because of your relationship with Angie?” she asked after a moment.
“No.” He felt no need to elaborate.
“So whose fault was this breach of ethical conduct?” she asked after a moment. “Who’s to blame for the affair?”
“I take full responsibility,” he said. “I pushed Angie to resume our relationship after we discovered that she was working under my supervision.”
“Do you think you deserve to be fired for sleeping with a subordinate?”
“Probably. Not only because I conducted a secret relationship with my employee, but because I’d like to continue that relationship. If she’ll have me.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Which I’m pretty sure she won’t.”
“So you’re telling me . . . ,” she prodded.
He opened his eyes again and met Tina’s gaze directly. “I’d rather leave the library than end my relationship with Angie. I love her. If I have any chance of winning her back, I’ll take it.” His lips twisted in a wry smile. “I figure my preferences are irrelevant, anyway. I fully expect you to fire me. I deserve it.”
“Maybe they’re irrelevant. Maybe not,” she said.
“The important part, like I said, is that Angie keeps her job.”
Tina got to her feet, and Grant automatically did the same. She gathered up her water and notepad and opened the door to the meeting room.
“That,” she said, “all depends on my meeting with the woman in question.”
“So what you’re saying,” Tina summarized later that morning, “is that everything is your fault, rather than Grant’s.”
Angie nodded emphatically. “Everything. He didn’t know about the contest because I’m an excellent liar.”
At that, Tina lowered her head to the table and gave a quiet groan.
Undeterred, Angie continued. “He entered into an affair with me because I seduced him. He stood no chance against my womanly wiles.” If only that were true. I might have a certain amount of sway over his body, but not over his heart. Not anymore. She stared at the floor and took several deep breaths. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Brave face, Angie.
“Which raises an interesting question,” Tina said. “Why exactly did you seduce him?”
Angie steeled herself against the tears she’d fought all morning, since the moment she’d woken up on her couch, with the blanket still tucked around her and her friends scattered in various chairs and bedrooms. “I love him, Tina. Even though I’ve done nothing but bring him trouble, I love him. And he’s an excellent addition to the library.” She took a deep breath. “So here’s what I wanted to say at this meeting. I love working here. I love my colleagues, my patrons, and my books. I love working for you.”
“But?”
“But I love Grant more,” Angie said. “I hereby offer my resignation.”
She handed Tina the letter she’d drafted, printed, and signed two hours before.
“If I leave, it addresses all your concerns about Grant. He’ll no longer need to keep me in line, so you won’t have to worry about me bamboozling him again. Our relationship becomes irrelevant when I no longer work at the library.” She sighed. “Not that we have a relationship anymore.”<
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Tina opened her mouth, but Angie continued before the other woman could talk.
“Once I’m gone . . .” She threw her hands in the air. “Poof! All your problems will disappear. Everything will fall into place. So there’s absolutely no need to fire Grant.”
“You don’t question his managerial abilities, after the way you were able to deceive him?” Tina lowered her chin and eyed Angie over the top of her glasses.
“Not at all,” Angie said with complete sincerity. “I’m sure Grant will prove an excellent manager. He’s intelligent, warm, and hard-working. You couldn’t have found a better candidate for the job.”
“Angie . . .” Tina reached out to touch her arm. “If you feel that way about him, why do you say you two don’t have a relationship anymore?”
Angie pasted a bright smile on her face, blinking rapidly. “Because I did my usual thing.” She gave a short laugh. “I ruined it all.”
“Hmmm.” Tina tilted her head, looking thoughtful.
Please, let’s get this over with, Angie thought. The sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can go home, curl into a ball, and stop pretending I’m handling this situation gracefully. Or at all.
Tina gave her arm another pat, and then stood up. “Angie, can I ask you to wait here for a moment? I need to bring in one more person for this meeting.”
“The head of HR, huh?” Angie asked. “That’s good. She can tell me about the arrangements for my resignation. Or firing. Or whatever just happened.”
“I’ll be right back,” Tina said.
As soon as Tina shut the door, Angie collapsed onto the table in front of her, burying her face in her hands. Deep breaths, she told herself. Only a little more torture before you can let your heart break in peace.
After a few minutes, the door opened behind Angie. She sat up. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” she said with false cheer, staring down at the table. “We have everyone we need now, right?”
“Yes,” Tina said. “I think we do.”
The door closed again, and Angie heard someone else speak. Not the person she’d expected. Definitely not Winona from HR. The sound ripped through her, making her shudder with longing and pain and fear.
“Tina,” Grant said, his voice hoarse, “what’s going on here? If you’re going to fire me, can’t you hurry up and do it already?”
27
By the time Angie swiveled her chair to look at him, Grant’s face had turned pink. “Excuse me,” he said. “That was inappropriate.”
At the sight of him, an electric shock seemed to tighten her chest. She struggled to conceal her reaction as her eyes devoured him with helpless greed. He looked tired. Exhausted, actually. Despite the immaculately ironed button-down shirt and crisply knotted tie, he somehow gave the impression he’d just finished working the world’s longest shift. Maybe because of his face, which seemed to sag from fatigue. Maybe because his professional mask had cracked, allowing his emotions and feelings to shine through. Despair showed in his bloodshot eyes and the lines bracketing his mouth.
Her fault. Unless she’d managed to sway Tina, Angie had gotten the man she loved fired. Deprived him of work he desperately needed for the sake of his family.
When his eyes met hers, though, he didn’t appear angry at her anymore. Just resigned. She didn’t know whether to consider that a good sign or an indication he’d simply given up on her.
“Inappropriate behavior is becoming a pattern with you,” Tina said to him. “Maybe you should get a handle on that.”
Angie stifled a groan. After all her arguments on his behalf, was Grant—logical, well-behaved Grant, for Christ’s sake—going to get himself fired because he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut? No. No, she couldn’t let that happen.
Grant opened his mouth to respond to Tina. “I don’t—”
“When I’m gone, it won’t be a problem anymore,” Angie quickly interjected. “I’m a bad influence.”
He turned a startled face back in her direction. “When you’re gone?” he repeated. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I offered my—” she began to explain.
Grant swung around to glare at Tina, his shoulders bunching beneath his cotton button-down shirt. “You fired her? After everything I said? All the data and the charts?”
Angie’s brow furrowed. “What data? What charts?”
“I told Tina—” he began.
Tina raised a hand. “Enough. Let me speak first, please.”
She rounded the table and took her seat. Then she gestured at the remaining empty chairs, indicating that Grant should sit down. He did, albeit with an indecipherable grumble.
Angie slanted him a speaking glance. Cool it, so you can keep your job.
He looked back at her, sadness in his eyes. From pity due to her imminent unemployment, most likely. Or maybe sorrow at his own possible termination.
Tina cleared her throat. “After the two disciplinary hearings, it appears I have a dilemma. The two of you agree on the sequence of events in question. However, you totally contradict one another as to whom I should blame and how the library should respond. Grant, you should know that Angie took full responsibility for both the contest and the affair. She offered her resignation and argued for your continued employment.” Tina glanced down at her notes. “Angie, you should know that Grant also took full responsibility for the affair, and he defended your concealment of the contest. He felt I should fire him and keep you.”
What the fuck? No. She couldn’t allow him to suffer the consequences of her bad decisions. Not because he was too much of a gentleman to put the blame on her, where it rightfully belonged.
“I’m the one who should—” Angie began.
“A resignation? What the—” Grant said at the same time.
Tina raised her voice this time. “Enough. At the moment, both of you still work here, and I’m still your superior. So zip it.”
Angie and Grant reluctantly sat back in their chairs.
Tina took a deep breath and pushed her wire-rimmed frames back up her nose. “Okay. As I was saying, you two disagreed as to the correct course of action for the library. What I found particularly interesting, however, was the reasoning behind each of your arguments. Grant stated his belief in your willingness to follow the library’s rules from now on, Angie. He also made a very convincing case as to why I should consider you the library’s most successful branch manager. When our meeting ended, he was about one graph away from nominating you for the Nobel Librarian Prize.”
Tina’s lips quirked briefly before she pressed them back into a solemn line. “He argued that you deserved to stay at the library more than him.”
Angie’s mouth dropped open. She’d figured he might say a few words in her defense out of a sense of obligation. But it sounded as if he’d gone farther than a few words. Much, much farther.
Angie shook her head. “No, Tina. I—”
Tina continued as if Angie hadn’t spoken. “Grant, Angie argued that you would be an exemplary director of the library branches once she left. She offered her resignation so you could keep your employment.”
Grant reached out to touch Angie’s hand. “Angie, that’s not—”
“But that’s not even the most fascinating part,” Tina interrupted. “Both of you seem convinced your relationship has ended, and that the other person doesn’t want you anymore. Yet both of you declared your love for one another at your hearings.” She leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table and setting her chin on her folded hands. “Declarations of love are not something I generally hear at disciplinary meetings. It was all very refreshing.”
Angie sat in stunned silence, unable to look away from Grant. His hand tightened over hers, and his eyes brightened.
“I’ll be blunt,” Tina said. “I can’t have a supervisor sleeping with his subordinate. I also can’t have a rogue branch manager. But I don’t particularly want to fire either one of you. So here’s what I’m going to do.”
Both of them snapped their gazes to Tina.
“I’m going to leave this room for thirty minutes. When I return, I expect the two of you to have a plan of action. One of you can leave. Both of you can leave. Or both of you can stay.”
Angie felt tears spring to her eyes, for the millionth time in the last twenty-four hours. “Thank you so—”
Tina held up a finger. “Let me finish. That’s only an option if you can come up with a feasible plan. You need to convince me that your plan won’t disrupt the library any further. And you need to make me believe you’ll follow that plan.”
She rose from her chair and planted both hands on the table. She observed them both with a flinty stare. “Thirty minutes. And when I return, if I see rumpled clothing or any other sign that you can’t control yourselves in your workplace, you’re both fired. Got it?”
“Got it,” Angie and Grant chorused.
“Good.” Tina strode for the door and shut it behind her with a firm click.
In Angie’s peripheral vision, she could see the slow rise and fall of Grant’s chest. She could hear his steady breathing, which she envied. At the moment, she couldn’t move, not even to take a breath. The hope sweeping through her had paralyzed every muscle, making her lungs burn more and more with each passing second. Or maybe it wasn’t hope. Maybe it was fear that if she moved, she’d break the spell or awaken from the daydream. She’d find herself jobless and loveless, disconsolate in the knowledge that she’d hurt and driven away the man she adored.
“Angel . . . ,” he said.
The sound of his voice, so tentative and loving, broke her paralysis. She gasped for air, all the while reminding herself that Tina might have misunderstood him. Or that, for whatever reason, he might have misrepresented his feelings to Tina.
Angie looked down at his warm hand covering hers. You need to ask. Brace yourself, Burrowes. This could all go wrong, as it usually does.
“You still love me?” she whispered. “After I lied to you and endangered your job?”
Grant scooted his chair right up to hers. “Of course I love you.”