Pamela Morsi (11 page)

324.4 The Political Process

D.J.
had spent much of Sunday afternoon preparing for the weekly staff meeting on Monday morning. After the Friday fiasco, she felt very strongly that reestablishing herself as a calm, reasonable person with forward-looking plans and teamwork camaraderie was paramount. Miss Grundler had been looking for a weakness and in D.J.’s vehement defense of young Ashley Turpin, she’d certainly found it. D.J. needed to skew that bad experience into positive change for the library, and she was eager to do it.

She arrived at work an hour early, but she was not the first on the job. The rusted old bike that belonged to James was already thoroughly overchained to the railing. She wondered, not for the first time, if the guy actually lived in the building. She’d seen no evidence of that. No personal items anywhere. He hadn’t left so much as a cracker in the break room. And he appeared never to leave the stack area. There wasn’t even a chair in that section. So unless he was sleeping on bookshelves, he was upright and moving all the time.

D.J. smiled to herself at the image of sleeping in the library. She used to dream that she could do that. It had been her childhood fantasy. Going to the library and simply staying forever.

Perhaps she and James had more in common than she’d originally thought.

He was out of sight, of course, as she entered the darkened entry in front of the circulation desk. D.J. turned on the lights.

“How can you work the stacks in total darkness?” she asked the silence of the big room.

A long hesitation was followed by a tentative reply. “Miss Grundler doesn’t want me running up the electric bill.”

“But you can’t see what you’re doing,” D.J. pointed out.

“I’ve...I’ve got a flashlight,” he said, tentatively.

D.J. shook her head. “Flashlight shelf reading,” she mumbled to herself, before adding more loudly, “James, you have my permission to turn on any or all of the lights that you need to do your work.”

“Okay.”

She turned to go and then changed her mind. “I’m going to the break room to make coffee,” she said. “If you want us to have the staff meeting out here, I’d like to have a table and some chairs, please.”

Without waiting for a reply, D.J. went back through the workroom to the little kitchen. It took her only a couple of minutes to put fresh coffee into the paper filter and pour the water through the machine. She’d already had a cup at home, but she decided to wait for the pot to give James time to do whatever he might do.

As she leaned against the counter, her mind began running down the meeting checklist. She wanted to make sure to praise what she saw and throw out new ideas for making it better. The copious notes she’d made left little necessity for her to actually remember. Still she attempted to focus very directly on her plans for the day. Allowing her thoughts to wander off in other directions was never a good idea. And the past couple of days provided two directions that she was specifically trying to avoid. There was the little girl who had caused her to so shockingly lose her temper on Friday. And there was her Saturday night with Scott.

D.J. considered herself some kind of an expert in compartmentalizing. It was undoubtedly a genetic trait. She’d shown early talent in boxing up every aspect of her life, careful never to taint any experience with another. Everything about life, the precious, the bitter, the uncertain, could be perfectly managed and excellently controlled if it was kept securely on its own. Home was home. School was school. Work was work. Although choosing librarianship as a career had certainly served to muddle the place she loved to be with the place she earned her living. Sometimes things spilled out of boxes.

It was the upheaval of change, new place, new people. That could cause old demons to crop up. Literally as well as figuratively.

Of course, it was probably unfair to categorize Scott as a demon. But he was not a nice person, she was convinced of that now. And worrying that he might remember her was certainly putting her through hell. Still, he was probably not the devil, though that would explain the quality of his bedroom skills.

“Box spilling over,” she warned herself aloud.

Getting her cup, she “cheated” by pouring from the carafe before the pot was finished, but she managed not to spill a drop. By the time she returned to the circulation area, James had set up a table and four chairs.

“Thank you,” she called out to the mass of shelving that separated her from the light of the windows.

D.J. made a quick trip up the spiral stairs to get a couple of things from her office and then lined up all her notes, files and her laptop at the head of the table. She decided to be already seated when her staff arrived. That way they could move straight to business almost instantaneously.

At least that seemed reasonable in theory. In actuality, it didn’t go quite that way.

Suzy arrived first and with her own agenda items, none of which D.J. wanted to discuss.

“I am all totally squeeee!” she declared. “You went out Saturday night with Scott Sanderson!”

D.J. wasn’t sure if her zeal stemmed from disbelief or disapproval.

“We saw a movie together,” she clarified.

“I can’t believe you had plans for a first date and didn’t tell me,” Suzy said as she seated herself in the chair on the right, leaning forward, chin on clasped hands as if in expectation of being told a fairy story.

D.J. barely managed not to sigh aloud. “It wasn’t a date,” she assured her. “And it wasn’t planned.”

“Spontaneous? Oh, spontaneous is the best kind of first date.”

“Not a date,” D.J. repeated. “Mrs. Sanderson asked him to show me around, introduce me to people. That’s all.”

“That’s perfect,” Suzy said, nodding. “Low-key, no pressure, men have no defense against that. Viv really does like you. And you know what they say, ‘win the mother-in-law first.’ It makes the long-term relationship so much easier.”

D.J. could not believe that the term “mother-in-law” had actually been used in this conversation.

“There will be no long-term relationship,” D.J. said.

“Now don’t count yourself out,” Suzy cautioned. “You are an attractive woman. And Scott goes for the quiet scholarly type.”

“I doubt that. But it doesn’t matter. I moved here to work, not meet men,” D.J. explained.

“Of course that’s not
your
reason,” Suzy agreed. “But a lot of people are saying that Viv’s whole new librarian plan had more to do with fixing up Scott than fixing up the library.”

Suzy giggled delightedly at that.

D.J. felt slightly nauseated. She’d already been warned. But it didn’t matter how many people thought it or who might want it, there would be nothing between them. In fact, she hoped never to catch sight of the man again.

“It was one movie,” she explained calmly to her employee. “We have no interest in each other, nothing in common and we didn’t hit it off. End of story.”

“Oh.” Suzy sounded genuinely deflated. She sat back in the chair, her expression confused. “So did you have a fight or something?”

“No, of course not. He’s simply not my type.”

The woman’s expression went from puzzled to incredulous. “Scott is, like, one of the best-looking guys in town. And there are practically no single guys at all in Verdant.”

“Then he shouldn’t have any trouble finding someone else to date,” D.J. said.

“He doesn’t though,” Suzy said. “He doesn’t go out with anybody.”

“I think you must be mistaken about that.”

“Not likely,” Suzy stated with sarcasm. “Dating in Verdant is like a spectator sport. The only thing that draws a bigger or more loyal audience is the high school basketball team. So if Scott had dated anyone, I would know it.”

D.J. shook her head. “I ran into his ex in the ladies’ room at the theater.”

“His ex-wife? We were on cheerleading squad together. She’s a sweetheart. Everybody loves her. But there are some things in marriage that can’t be fixed. We all worry that it just broke Scott’s heart.”

“Broke Scott’s heart? That’s not the way I heard it. And I didn’t meet his ex-wife, I met his ex-girlfriend.”

“His ex-girlfriend?”

Apparently Suzy wasn’t as in the know as she thought.

“Eileen,” D.J. clarified.

Suzy’s eyes got as big as saucers, but her voice shrunk down to a furtive whisper. “You met Eileen Holland? What made you think she was his ex-girlfriend?”

“She told me she was.”

“O. M. G.!” Suzy declared, dragging each letter out dramatically. “There were lots of rumors, lots of speculation, but nobody knew for sure.”

“So there,” D.J. said. “Dating in Verdant may not be as public as you think.”

“Oh, you don’t understand,” Suzy corrected her. “They weren’t
dating.
Married people don’t date. Eileen’s husband is Bryce Holland. He and his dad own the grain elevator.”

D.J. practically had to pick her jaw off the table and suddenly understood what all the whispering was all about.

“Bryce is like...like one of the richest guys in miles and miles. He knows everybody and has tons of influence on the library board,” Suzy warned. “So whatever Eileen might have said to you, I’d forget that I ever heard it.”

At that moment, Miss Grundler stepped in from the workroom. Suzy shot the woman a glance before telegraphing a further, unnecessary warning to D.J.

“Message received,” D.J. replied grimly.

326.9 Enslavement & Emancipation

S
cott awakened with an erection as big as Colorado, his bedcovers reminiscent of that topography. He groaned aloud as he recalled only glimpses of the dream that had stirred him. The sand, the surf and a flash of something shiny at a trim, tanned waist.

“Oh, Sparkle you’re killing me,” he said aloud.

He rolled out of bed and headed, eyes still half-closed, to his morning shower.

It was at the store an hour later, his hair still wet and his first cup of coffee only halfway finished, that the lightbulb at the back of his brain went off. “
That’s
who she looks like,” he said to himself with total disbelief. The snippy, stuck-up librarian had a passing resemblance to Scott’s favorite dream girl.

“Un-effing-believable!”

He shook his head with incredulity. No two women could be any more different. His South Padre Sparkle was all spontaneity and sexiness. D.J., by contrast, seemed to be all planning and prudery.

Their date, which had not been a date, had only gone from bad to worse. What in the world had gotten into Eileen that after maintaining her silence for years, she would suddenly open up about their affair? And to a stranger, no less. Honestly, D.J. should have been flattered. Eileen had claws, for sure, but she rarely saw fit to do more than manicure them.

That incident was embarrassing, and he could understand how D.J. might be put off and resentful about being dragged into his stupid, now defunct relationship with a married woman. But she seemed even more angry by the end of the film than she had been at the time it had happened. That made no sense whatsoever. But then, very little of the librarian’s attitude made sense to him.

He kept hearing people say how “nice” she was, how “sweet.” Either the rest of town was completely off, or she’d decided simply to hate him.

The bell on the front door clanged and he turned to meet his first customer of the day, Amos Brigham.

“You got any more of that stuff,” he asked, pointed to Scott’s mug.

“I can probably share a swig or two,” Scott said as he put a cup and saucer on the counter before retrieving the carafe from the warmer.

“So, are you running early this morning or planning to show up late?” Scott asked.

Amos shrugged as he took a seat at the counter. “We’ve got a staff meeting and it’s sure to be a doozy. Amelia will be loaded for bear and I thought I might need some extra caffeine before the estrogen storm.”

Scott chuckled.

“Hey, you don’t know what it’s like to be the lone man in a job full of women.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” Scott said. “I work with Paula every day in a business where I share ownership with my mother and sister.”

“Yeah, maybe so.”

“Besides, you’re not the ‘lone man.’ There’s James.”

Amos managed a wry grin and shook his head. “You’re right. I do have James.”

“So drink up before we both have a misogyny attack.”

Amos did as he was bid.

Scott poured himself another cup. He had things to do, but he couldn’t resist the temptation to linger.

“I haven’t seen Suzy yet this morning,” Amos said. “So I don’t have the gossip on your big date with our new librarian.”

“It wasn’t a date,” Scott replied.

“Yeah, that’s what you keep saying.”

“Mom asked me to take her downtown and introduce her around. That was it.”

Scott’s tone was adamant. Amos’s acknowledgment accepting.

“People seem to like her.”

Scott agreed. “She was charming.” To everybody but him. “Nice, but not in that fake, sugary way some women do.”

Amos nodded.

“And you know around harvest every farmer in town has more words in his mouth than the entire rest of the year.”

Amos laughed. “You speak the truth, bro. It’s all the extra cash I make all year, and yet I get so tired of listening to the talk I wanna scream, ‘so let’s harvest it already!’”

“Amen,” Scott agreed. “Max Schultz heard that Brandon Renny’s crop is down to 12.”

Amos nodded. “It’s a little south, but it’s getting close.”

“Next thing that you know, we’ll all be wishing that it was over.”

Amos chuckled. “You know this town too well.”

Scott nodded. “You should have seen the librarian’s face while Max explained the finer points of measuring moisture content.”

“Tough sale, huh?”

“No, she did pretty good. She was acting polite and looking interested. My own eyes were about to roll into the back of my head.”

“Been there. Done that.”

“T-shirt?”

“I played skins.”

They joked together companionably as Scott poured Amos a second cup.

“Do you know what the rumor is about your date?” Amos asked.

“It wasn’t a date,” Scott replied automatically, but he was listening carefully. He really hoped that the confrontation between Eileen and D.J. had not been a public spectacle.

“They’re saying that Viv brought her here just to fix her up with you,” Amos said.

Scott released the breath he held, grateful for some secrets kept. “I hope you’re wrong about that,” he said. “I really hate disappointing my mom.”

“You could do worse,” Amos pointed out. “Her curves may not be much, but her face is pretty.”

“There is nothing wrong with her figure,” Scott corrected. “Have you gotten a good look at the booty on her?”

“Nope, can’t say as I’ve noticed. But apparently you did.”

“Bicycle shorts, tighter than skin. There is plenty of junk in that trunk and none of it needs to be jacked up or rounded off.”

“Lucky you then,” Amos said. “You should make a play for her.”

Scott shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you going to live like a monk forever then?”

“Look who’s talking,” Scott replied. “Besides, if I were going to give romance another shot, I’d be much smarter to start with Jeannie Brown.”

“Jeannie Brown? Is she dating again?”

“Well, she probably would be if somebody asked her,” Scott answered. “Hey, we live in Verdant. Her choices are you, me or Old Man Paske. If you and I aren’t picking up the slack, I don’t think we can count on the coot in the nursing home.”

Amos gave a slight grunt of humor.

“So I’ll take Jeannie, you take the librarian and Paske is on his own.”

“I can’t take the librarian,” Amos said.

“Why not?”

“Uh...because I like my job and she’s my boss.”

“Oh, right, I forgot that.”

“I do kind of like her though,” Amos said. “She’s...I don’t know, she’s open, I guess.”

“Open?”

“Yeah, she doesn’t seem to have the kind of expectations everybody else does. She doesn’t act like James is a weirdo. She doesn’t talk to me like I’m...fragile.”

Scott chuckled. “It’s hard to imagine you as fragile,” he pointed out to the burly man.

Amos slapped his rock-solid abs. “Delicate as glass,” he declared with a grin. But then spoke more seriously. “That’s how people treat me a lot. They’re careful about what they say. Like I might go nuts and start taking hostages.”

“They don’t think that,” Scott assured him. “I know they don’t mean that.”

“But they do think I’ve changed,” Amos pointed out. “I have changed. And change is not so good in Verdant.”

Scott could hardly argue the point. Living up to expectations had not been in the cards for him, either.

“D.J. is okay with people being whatever. That’s what I mean by open,” he said. “It’s like she’s not scared of the wounds, no matter how badly they’re healed.”

“That sounds like pretty high praise, Amos,” Scott said. “Maybe a new job might be what the doctor ordered.”

He shook his head. “Nope. It’ll have to be you.”

“It can’t be me,” Scott said. “She doesn’t like me.”

Amos’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”

Scott shrugged. “Beats me. She detested me on sight. And it seems like the more she gets to know me, the worse it gets.”

“Weird. Everybody likes you.”

“I figure I remind her of some creep who jilted her or something.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” Amos agreed. “Didn’t you think she reminded you of somebody?”

“Yeah. I finally figured out who.”

“And?”

“She looks a little like this girl I went out with once, when I was back in grad school.”

Scott gazed thoughtfully into his coffee cup.

“I see that smile.”

“Huh.”

“You thought about this old girlfriend and you couldn’t help smiling,” Amos said.

Scott shrugged and shook his head. “Sorry. Nice memories.”

“I guess so. What happened to her?”

“Don’t know. One minute she was there and then she was gone.”

Amos’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean by that? Didn’t you look for her? Ask her friends?”

“I didn’t know where to look for her,” Scott admitted. “I didn’t even know her name.”

“You didn’t know her name?” Amos repeated. “What kind of ‘girlfriend’ was this?”

“I met her on spring break.”

Amos raised an eyebrow. “I never thought you were the ‘spring break’ kind of guy.”

“I wasn’t. You know I always came home and worked here in the store,” he said. “But that one year I decided to go and see what it was all about.”

“And?”

“And I met her.” Scott hesitated a half minute before he continued. “You know the phrase, ‘she rocked my world.’”

“Geez!”

“This woman literally rocked my world,” Scott said. “It was like a sexual awakening that I had no clue about. Totally off the charts.”

“Man, you’re going to piss me off,” Amos teased. “It was always my teenage fantasy to be seduced by a sexy older woman.”

“She wasn’t older,” Scott said. “She was a college girl, younger than me, I think. But damn, she knew exactly what her body was for and how to use it. All these years later, and I still get worked up just remembering her.”

Amos laughed. “Very inconvenient in your current bachelor state.”

“Hey, it’s not all that funny,” Scott said. “Sometimes I think it’s almost sad. If it hadn’t happened...if I hadn’t known that it could be like that, I’d probably still be married to Stephanie.”

“No,” Amos said. “You two were never going to be happy together.”

“But we probably would have been content to settle for what we had.”

“And nobody’s life would have been better for that.”