“We’ll go over all of that the next two days. I’ll have all of my contacts at your disposal. I know this is sudden and very daunting, but you have a close colleague who has many of those same concerns.” He glanced at Dubchev. “Alexander Lawford, our former Head of Adult Services is now director at Vista Heights.” Returning his gaze to Marisa, he said, “Think of this as an opportunity to grow.”
Dubchev smiled and held his hand out to Marisa. “And the Board will be there to make sure you don’t falter.”
Shaking his hand, Marisa felt reassured by the comment. Unless he meant it as a threat.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Earlier in the day, Alex had met with his department heads and discussed the impending lending restrictions that Bedford Falls had set into place. He heard plenty of negative comments about his former employer, the chief accusation being that their staff and patrons were pompous.
Alex kept his opinions in check. Because he enjoyed his experience at Bedford Falls, he wanted this staff to view their neighboring colleagues as hard-working and dedicated, who didn’t enact this policy to hurt Vista Heights but to best serve their own community. And rather than perceiving their recent policy change as disruptive, they should regard it as an opportunity to reinvent their own library. He handed out copies of the statistics Marisa had shared with him last week to provide evidence of these facts.
The figures shocked his leadership team into silence. With a better understanding of what persuaded Bedford Falls to enact this policy, each member of Alex’s team reluctantly agreed that they, too, would have recommended the same path. They did, however, bristle at Bedford Falls’ immediate implementation of this policy.
Alex had surprised his team by agreeing with them, which earned him some respect. But he reiterated that since Bedford Falls’ board planned for this policy to go into effect within two weeks, they would accomplish more by working with their neighboring library, than fighting the inevitable. His team agreed to work with their counterparts at Bedford Falls to ensure that they continued to deliver top-notch service while adjusting to the changes by re-appropriating their respective budgets to purchase more of the materials their patrons had been utilizing from Bedford Falls.
After leaving the meeting, Alex was gratified to have convinced his management team to reconsider their opinions about the Bedford Falls Public Library and its community. The victory left him fatigued, but earning their trust and respect was well worth the effort, and the goodwill they would extend to their colleagues could only be perceived as positive for both libraries.
When he returned to his office, he heard his phone ringing, and he managed to pick it up before the call went to voicemail. “This is Alex, how can I help you?”
“Hi, it’s Marisa.”
Surprise mixed with elation. Just the musical chime of her voice put a smile on his face. “Hi, how’s it going?”
“Can we meet? I need your help with something.”
His head pounded to the sound of his heart. He recalled how helping her up to this point contributed to being placed in the friend zone, and he refused to lend her a hand only to end up getting put into a position he found uncomfortable yet again. “I’ve been really busy lately.”
“Are you free for dinner? My treat. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t really need it.”
He sighed into the telephone, letting her know that he didn’t like the idea. Take the lead. “Meet me at The Witching Hour at 5:30.” Why couldn’t he resist her? “See you then.” He hung up the phone, preventing her from responding.
Damon’s advice about not being too available entered his mind. But Marisa wouldn’t have called if it was related to their relationship. That painful thought calmed him. But not in a good way.
*
An hour later, a wax figure of the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz greeted Marisa at Kelsey’s horror-themed restaurant where the waitresses wore large, pointy black hats and provocative, black gowns that displayed enough cleavage to entice a strong percentage of males, both teenagers and adults. The outfits were inoffensive enough to attract a large number of excited grade school and middle school kids, accompanied by mothers who looked uncertain whether they should be repulsed or entertained by their surroundings.
Framed sorcery and mystical-related posters hung from the walls: The Blair Witch Project; Practical Magic; The Craft; The Witches of Eastwick; Hocus Pocus, American Horror Story, and Witches of East End. Three wands used by the actors who played Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley were encased opposite a black leather outfit worn by Alyson Hannigan who played a witch named Willow on the television show, Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Upstairs, Kelsey had prepared a vampire-themed staging area with plenty of signed photographs by actors that had played vampires in movies and television: Tom Cruise, Kiefer Sutherland, Gary Oldman, Alexander Skarsgard, Ian Somerhalder, and Robert Pattinson. A wax figure of Bela Lugosi welcomed customers, directing them toward a display case that contained fangs worn in the movies by Brad Pitt, Wesley Blades, Stephen Moyer, David Boreanaz, and Christopher Lee.
Marisa would have expected to hear horror movie-related music, but instead a popular tune by Rihanna piped through the surround-sound speakers. A hostess approached her, asking for the number of members in her party.
“Two,” Alex said, sliding up beside her.
“Jesus,” she said, jumping at the sight of him. “Where did you come from?”
“My mother. Why, where did you come from? And give me something more original than Ken and Barbie this time.” Then he turned their hostess. “We’d like a booth down here.” He gestured towards Marisa. “She was once attacked by a vampire. Still gets nightmares.” He rolled his eyes. “Long story.”
Laughing, the hostess directed them to an empty booth, handed them menus, and left to get a Cosmopolitan for Marisa and a Miller Light for Alex.
Marisa slipped out of her jacket and placed it beside her on the seat cushions. “All of these waitresses wearing…stimulating outfits. Now I see why my father invested so heavily in Kelsey’s vision for this place. But I just don’t see the fascination with vampires and zombies and all that.”
She examined the menu. “Take zombies. They eat human flesh to stay ‘alive,’ right? But they’re dead. And while they’re walking after people, they’re…what, burning calories from all those body parts they’ve eaten? I mean, how many overweight zombies do you see in movies and TV? They exist to eat more arms and legs. And yet they’re not greedy. How often do you see zombies fighting over a human? It doesn’t happen. Is it not in their nature? I mean, they can’t talk because they don’t have brains, right? Is that why they always share a corpse? Because they’re too stupid to be greedy?”
Alex broke out laughing at the absurdity.
“And what if they spend an afternoon savoring a link of intestines? Those suckers are over twenty feet long. Besides, if they don’t have a brain, how do they know when they’re full? It would be like a hot dog-eating contest. So here’s where the calorie burning comes in: they’re dead, which means their intestines aren’t functioning. What happens to the food they eat? You never see a zombie squatting on the side of the road, well, taking a dump. Every zombie should be bloated and too slow to catch anyone.”
“No one thinks about overweight zombies except you.”
“Okay, fine. What about vampires? They drink blood. Yet their heart doesn’t beat. You’d think they’d need blood to keep their hearts beating, but they don’t. It’s ridiculous. Now I see them on TV and they’re drinking vodka and getting wasted. But how is that possible? They’re dead. Their body can’t process alcohol. So how can they get drunk?”
“How could they exist at all?” Alex asked. “It’s make believe, just like Beauty and the Beast. Or Pinocchio. We don’t question it. We just enjoy it. And here you are, analyzing it.”
Their waitress arrived, placed their drinks in front of them, and took their orders – salmon for Marisa and a chee
seburger and fries for Alex – before leaving them.
Her easy rapport with Alex could cover any topic, dabbling in the obscure, getting sidetracked by the spiritual or scientific, before turning to friends and family, then shifting to work or entertainment.
She missed it. She missed them. She missed how she didn’t have to worry about what she might say, because Alex would never judge her or criticize her.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, popping a fry into his mouth.
She shook her head. “Lance just found out he has prostate cancer. He’ll be undergoing chemotherapy. Tomorrow is his last day. I’ll be the interim director for at least nine months.”
Alex just stared at her, mouth agape in shock.
After she told him the little she knew about his condition, they recalled favorite memories about Lance and wished him a quick recovery. Then she speculated about how his absence would affect her staff. “If I had a full team and knew what I was doing, I’d be fine. But right now, I don’t know where to begin. I’m actually…kind of scared.” She launched into all of her fears, touching on her inadequacies and lack of training, not to mention her absence of a mentor.
While she talked, Alex looked sympathetic between each bite of his burger. He didn’t offer any suggestions or advice. He’d didn’t try to help her, because how could he? He just listened.
After taking a sip of beer, Alex put down his glass and waited for her to continue.
Now she wanted him to say something, yet he remained silent. She wasn’t sure if he thought she would continue talking, or if he was just mulling over what she’d said. Even more so, she was hoping for some recommendations.
“What do you think?” she asked. “Any ideas?”
“I don’t know.” He glanced away, distracted.
“What’s wrong?”
He refused to look her in the eye and took his time before answering. “I don’t know.”
The connection she had always relied upon, which often allowed her to anticipate his thoughts before he voiced them, failed her. Perhaps spending three weeks apart had severed that intimate link. Possible but unlikely. No, she blamed it on this more laid-back, reflective Alex Lawford. He looked more assured and unaffected by how others perceived him, like the people around him were supporting players in a film about his life. He’d become less transparent, less predictable.
For someone who proclaimed that he loved her – only three weeks ago – he seemed indifferent to her now. And it seemed genuine, not as though he were trying to put up a false front. He no longer hung on her every word, no longer looked at her with so much emotion crossing his face.
Marisa should have felt relieved. But she missed the way he looked at her. He always made her feel like the most important person, not only in the room, but on the planet. These elements contributed to why she found this new Alex so irritating which, for some reason, made him all the more captivating.
“Why did you get a motorcycle?” she asked, taking a bite of salmon.
He glanced around the restaurant and took his time before answering. “I always wanted to ride, but I let the risks undermine me. I realized that I didn’t want to let fear hold me back anymore. I wanted to live life. Not just let it happen to me.” He met her gaze. “I needed to take a new direction and become a more complete person. And the only way to make that happen was to do something about it. So I took a new job. I bought a bike.”
“But you’ve changed in other ways, too.”
He looked at her, impassive.
“You seem more decisive, more…just more. I can’t describe it.”
He continued staring at her, giving nothing away.
“Say something. You’re starting to tick me off.” His cool exterior and unwillingness to speak mesmerized her. She wanted to shake him, to demand answers. And based on the hint of a smile that never quite fully surfaced, he knew exactly what she was thinking and seemed to enjoy her confusion. “Knock it off,” she said.
“What’s bothering you?”
“We’ve barely talked in three weeks, and you won’t tell me anything about what’s going on with you.”
“When you’re ready to ask—”
“That’s all I’ve been doing.”
“No, you’ve made statements. If you want to know something, all you have to do is ask. I don’t bite.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Or maybe I do.”
“See? That’s what I’m talking about. This…” She raised a hand, waving it in the air. “This aura thing or whatever it is that you’ve got going on is annoying the hell out of me.”
“Bummer for you.” He ate a fry.
She blew out a breath, trying to calm herself. “Okay, separate subject: my job. I’m basically a director now. And I have no idea what I’m doing. Can you help me?”
“You’re asking me? I’ve only been on the job for a week. How can I help you?”
Marisa anticipated that he’d offer to help before she even asked him for it. In the past, he would have done exactly that. And now, even after she sought his assistance, he resisted her. She didn’t like this imposter. “With budgeting. You’re so good with figures and everything. And with other things like the people at work who…might not believe in me.”
“With budgeting? I might be able to help. With your staff? I’ve already helped you there.”
“What? How?”
“The day you rejected me.”
Marisa hated that reminder. Would he ever understand why they wouldn’t make a good couple? Would he ever forgive her? “What are you talking about?”
“When Esther asked if we were a couple, I played along to help you. People find it difficult to talk to you.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I agree. Most of them never took the time to get to know you.” He looked around for the waitress. “I could use another beer.” He turned back to Marisa. “What?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’? I’m easy to talk to. Plenty of people told me I’m easy to talk to. I’m curious. I like different types of people. I like—”
“All kinds of guys. But don’t worry,” he said, leaning closer, “I’d never say that.” He winked at her.
She ignored the joke. “I talk with everybody. I’m not rude. I’m not—”
“Ask yourself this question: when people have good news, do they seek you out? When they have bad news, do they come to you for a sympathetic ear? And when they come back from a vacation, do they want to share their pictures with you? Face it: you’re not that person.
“I allowed Esther to think that we were together because, for some reason, she doesn’t like you. But everyone likes Esther. She’s a total gossip queen, but she’s a nice person, and I get along with her. If she thought we were together, I thought it might make it easier for you after I left. People might get to know the Marisa that I know. You’re a good person. More people should see that. They should give you a chance.
“Then a small part of me thought you’d decide to ignore me, but the result would end up the same: the staff would think you’re trying to remain professional. Which would make them respect you and encourage them to want to know you better. But here’s what I don’t get: after blowing me off and acting like I didn’t exist, where do you get the nerve to ask me for help?”
Marisa, shocked to hear Alex reveal his true feelings, was ashamed for thinking that he might use the rumor to get back at her. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have misjudged his intentions?
She felt tears slipping down her cheeks and wiped them away. She should have known that he would never purposely hurt her. And thinking otherwise made her feel like a horrible friend, which helped her understand why some library staff never took a shine to her.
“At this moment,” Alex said, “when you need so much advice, why aren’t you calling on the people who can help you? You’ll never get a more perfect opportunity to get your staff to believe in you than in this moment.”
She lowered her head, disappointed in
herself for not seeing this as an opportunity.
“Did it ever occur to you that your staff is distant with you because maybe you don’t trust them? So why should they trust you? Instead, you want to rely on me because I’ve never turned you away. Well, not this time, Marisa. I’m not a doormat.” He slid out of the booth in one easy motion. “This time, you’re on your own.”
He walked away from her table. And he didn’t look back.
Another round of tears fell from her eyes. Not because Alex wouldn’t help her. And not because he walked out on her. She was elated because he’d spoken his mind.
She slumped in relief, almost exhausted from having carried the invisible weight of that burden. She knew that he’d always filtered his responses, based on what he believed she wanted to hear.
In short, even though his intentions were honorable, he wasn’t always entirely honest with her. But now that he’d revealed his thoughts without concern for how she would respond, she felt an outpouring of emotion for him. It made her feel closer to him, like he’d finally admitted to himself that they were on the same level, which she believed they should have been on all along. She always regarded him as an equal, but for reasons she never understood, he’d never done likewise.
Although she knew his honesty would enhance their friendship, Marisa worried about the backlash – he’d spurned the opportunity to help her. That had never happened before.
No matter what she needed, Alex had always done everything possible to lend a hand. But this time, when she asked for so little, he turned her down, not because he couldn’t help but because he didn’t want to.
When Alex had initially revealed the depth of his feelings, Marisa was worried because she didn’t want to lose his friendship. But now, she didn’t know if he even wanted to be her friend anymore.
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