by Ann McMan
“Okay. Who are you and what have you done with the dour librarian I arrived with?”
Syd waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, come on. Hey. Dour?”
”You look great,” Maddie said. “I don’t know what dollar amount you’ve asked for in your budget request, but take my advice and double it.”
Syd blushed as she transferred items from her handbag into a briefcase. “I hate to disillusion you, but meeting with the state library board won’t be anything like your favorite pastime of seducing pharmaceutical reps. The old tried-and-true cheesecake approach won’t do me much good.”
Maddie was silent for a moment. “Don’t underestimate yourself.” Syd laughed and turned to her, but Maddie averted her eyes. “You want me to call you a cab?”
Syd nodded. “I’ll probably be longer than an hour. Wanna meet back here later on?”
“You betcha. My opening session shouldn’t last more than an hour, so I ought to be back here by five-thirty or six. Then we can spend the evening eating and drinking entirely too much.” Maddie smiled. “This is one night I don’t have to worry about being on call. And I know a great little restaurant in the Fan that we can walk to.”
Syd smiled. “I can hardly wait.”
AFTER FINDING THE office building and walking up four flights of marble stairs, Syd was shown into a paneled conference room and offered a cup of very stale black coffee. Several minutes later, the door opened, and a middle-aged woman hurried in while apologizing for her tardiness.
“Ms. Murphy? I’m Denise Metcalf—the grant coordinator. Our rural services manger was supposed to join us, but got called away this afternoon.”
Syd smiled as they shook hands. “That’s okay. I appreciate your willingness to meet with me over a weekend.”
“It’s a pleasure—really. We don’t get many opportunities to talk personally with our field librarians.” She was a small woman, with a round, friendly-looking face. “How are you making out?”
“Pretty well—all things considered. The branch opening went very smoothly. I’ve been the grateful recipient of lots of good volunteer help.”
Metcalf smiled and jotted a note on the inside cover of a file folder. “That’s what we like to hear. How is the facility shaping up?”
“It’s a bit rustic, but the locals have done an amazing job with renovations. We repainted the inside and installed new carpet squares. The interior lighting is still a challenge, so I rely pretty heavily on tabletop fixtures. I have a floor plan for you, in addition to the preliminary operating budget.”
“Wonderful. I can’t tell you how unusual it is to have this information produced voluntarily and on time. We may want to use you as a poster child for our other branches.”
Syd laughed as she passed the documents across the table. “You might want to withhold your praise until you’ve had a chance to review these. I confess that I am flying blind on this budget.”
Metcalf flipped through the neatly typed pages. “Don’t worry too much about that. We don’t expect you to have an etched-in-stone report until a full year after the branch is up and running. You’ll have an opportunity next fall to reassess and modify these figures.”
“That’s a relief. I never really thought of myself as a science fiction writer until I sat down to draft this.”
Metcalf chuckled. “Are there any glaring omissions in your initial inventory? Any critical equipment needs necessary to facilitate operations?”
Syd raised an eyebrow. “Within what dollar amount are we speaking?”
“Oh, roughly in the range of free.”
“That’s what I thought.” Syd drummed her fingers on top of her briefcase. “No. I guess we can manage for now.”
Metcalf nodded, then reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. “Here are all of my numbers. Please give me a call any time I can be of help.”
Syd took the card. “Thank you, I will.”
“Now, Judy Goldman—who is our state auditor—wants to talk with you tomorrow about some changes in funding that might be coming down the pike next year.”
Syd was surprised. “Is this something I should be worried about?”
Metcalf shook her head. “I don’t think so—not now, anyway. But it would be disingenuous to pretend that we aren’t all concerned about the fate of our less established initiatives in the wake of the hits our state budget has been taking. What we have to hope is that your local economy will be in a position to shoulder the expense of running the branch by the time the grant money runs out next year.”
“Well, that sounds vaguely ominous.” Syd stood up and buttoned her jacket. “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t count on more than an eighteen-month tenure.”
Metcalf stood up and extended her hand. “Don’t be too worried. We generally find that once they get used to having a library, local governments are reluctant to give them up.” They shook hands. “I think your little branch will find a way to survive.”
Syd smiled at her. “I hope you’re right. I’ve grown rather fond of the area . . . and the people.”
“Oh? So you might be interested in staying on there after the grant ends?”
“I’ve been giving it some thought lately.”
“Well, be sure to tell Judy that tomorrow. It can’t hurt for her to know that she’s got a potential bird in the hand. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Syd. Your materials look very thorough. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow. Thanks so much for coming all the way to Richmond.”
“Likewise, and I was happy to make the trip up here. I thought a little diversion would do me some good.”
“Have you been to our fair city before?”
“Not really. I’m embarrassed to confess that I’ve never done more than pass through Richmond on the interstate.”
“Where are you staying?”
“An older hotel called The Old Dominion—in the Fan district.”
“Oh, that’s very charming. Enjoy your evening, and we’ll see you again tomorrow afternoon.”
Syd smiled as she grabbed the doorknob. “Thanks. I look forward to it.”
SINCE SHE HAD extra time on her hands, Syd told the cab driver to drop her off several blocks from the hotel, thinking that the brisk air would do her good. She browsed in and around several interesting looking storefront shops and wondered how Maddie was faring with the conference. The sky had turned slate gray. She was no expert, but it looked like it could snow. She smiled to herself. I’ll have to ask the resident flying ace and weather maven about that. She slowly shook her head. Goofball. I can’t believe she sprung that on me.
She glanced at her watch. Four forty-five. Maddie wouldn’t be back for at least another hour, and the weather continued to deteriorate. She decided to head back to the room and change into more comfortable clothes. There was a small café in front of the hotel, and she thought she would order some decent coffee and peruse their complimentary newspaper.
When she got back, she was surprised to see Maddie crossing the lobby. She was striking in a tailored blue dress, walking with long strides across the worn carpet toward the stairs. Stairs. Of course. Why take an elevator when it’s only eight flights? She crossed to the elevators and decided to do an end-run and surprise her.
MADDIE HUFFED AS she bolted up the last flight of stairs. Damn . . . I really gotta start working out. I wonder if I should pick up one of those Wii Fit thingies while I’m up here?
At the top, she hauled open the big fire door.
“Hey there, Stretch. Looking for some company?” came a low, sexy voice.
She whipped her head around toward the sound and saw Syd casually leaning against a doorjamb with her arms crossed over her chest and a small smile on her face.
Maddie stood there, slack-jawed, and Syd broke into mirthful laughter. “Oh, poor baby. You look like a deer in the headlights. Did I scare you?”
Maddie took a moment to consider, deciding that a good offense was her best defense. “On the cont
rary. I was just weighing my options.” She stepped closer to Syd so she could tower over her. “I’ve already sort of made plans with another babe for tonight but I think I can get out of it. She’s a librarian, and probably won’t last much past seven-thirty.” She gave her a rakish wink and bent even closer. “Wanna meet later in the bar?”
Syd dropped her arms in defeat. “Do you have to be better at everything?”
MADDIE LAUGHED AND draped an arm around Syd’s shoulders as she steered them toward their room. “Don’t be bitter. I already gave you an index to the things I don’t do well.”
“Oh, yeah. Let’s see . . . we can either cook something, or fall madly into a relationship.” Syd realized what she said and panicked. She looked up at Maddie, quickly trying to conceal her faux pas. “I think those were my options, right?”
Maddie nudged her playfully. “Tongue depressors. You forgot those.” She winked at her. “But given the choice, I’d definitely go for the relationship option.”
“And why’s that?” Syd was intrigued.
Maddie’s laugh was self-deprecating. She dropped her arm and retrieved her room key from her bag. “Because even though the ending would be a nightmare, I could promise you a helluva good time getting there.”
Syd’s pulse raced as she watched her open the door to their room. She wondered what on earth had made Maddie so bitter, and so fatalistic.
Maddie stood aside so Syd could enter the room . . . and looked back at her with an implied question in her clear, blue eyes. Syd knew she needed to make some kind of response to her facetious suggestion.
“Tell you what.” Syd smiled. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
MADDIE SHRUGGED INTO the arms of her leather jacket as they exited the elevator. “Why don’t we commemorate having our first appointments behind us and go find some place monstrously overpriced for dinner? I feel like celebrating.” She added with a sly grin, “I may even splurge and drink an entire bottle of wine by myself.”
Syd raised an eyebrow. “By yourself?”
Maddie playfully nudged her arm as they walked across the lobby toward the street doors. “Okay. I might be persuaded to share a small glass with you, if you promise not to question my selection or argue with me about who pays.”
“Arguing with you might always be a losing proposition, but I can’t promise that I won’t try.”
They stepped out onto the street. A line of taxis stood at the ready along the curb.
“Do we walk or do we ride?” Syd asked, turning up the collar of her jacket. It was still shy of sunset, but the air was noticeably colder than it had been just an hour ago. She couldn’t tell if it was going to rain or snow, but it was pretty clear that something ominous was brewing.
Maddie grasped her elbow and steered her away from the hotel driveway. “We walk.” She glanced up at the sky. “But let’s hedge our bets and find something closer to the hotel in case the weather turns on us. We can grab some fresh air and look along the river for a nice spot with a view and a good wine list.”
“That sounds great to me. I feel like my butt is numb from sitting all day.”
“Reeeeaallly?” Maddie asked, stopping to consider Syd’s backside. “Want me to take a look at it for you?” She dramatically flexed the fingers of both hands like tentacles.
Syd grabbed her by the arm and yanked her forward. “No, nut job. I think it’ll work itself out. Thanks all the same for the offer.”
Maddie sighed and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Your loss. I’ll have you know I was the unbridled star of my session today.”
Syd looked at her in disbelief. “And your session on the conference itinerary has exactly what relevance to my backside?”
Maddie shrugged and shook her head. “Medicine is associative. Who can say how seemingly unrelated conditions might intersect in a diagnosis.”
“Riiight. Well, I think I’ll take my chances and try to walk this particular malady off.” Syd smiled at her.
“Well, don’t say I didn’t offer to help.”
After walking a few blocks, they came upon the entrance to a large pedestrian bridge that stretched across the James River. It was located next to an outdoor plaza dotted with bars, quaint looking shops, and neatly landscaped outdoor seating areas. Business people hurried along the sidewalks, talking on cell phones and checking their watches. Lively music, punctuated by raucous laughter, poured out the open doors of one of the bars. Maddie stopped and looked up and down the plaza. She narrowed her eyes as she scanned the row of shops.
“I think there’s a—yeah. It’s this way. C’mon.” She took Syd by the elbow and guided her through the melee of pedestrians.
After walking about a block, they turned down an alley that led away from the plaza toward the riverbank. At the bottom of the tiny street, overlooking the water, stood an old, three-story brick building. A small painted sign that read “River City Chop House” hung on rusty hooks near the large double doors. The legend “1854” was etched into a grimy-looking cornerstone. There were no cars, and no place to park them in any event. A chalkboard on an easel stood on the sidewalk near the entrance.
“It’s been a while since I ate here,” Maddie explained. “But as I recall, the food is excellent and the atmosphere is even better. You game?”
Syd pulled her eyes away from the tantalizing descriptions of the evening fare and looked at Maddie with a glazed expression. “Are you kidding? Try and keep me out of here.”
Maddie grinned and walked up the three steps to the door and held it open for Syd. “Well, we’re early enough that we should be able to get a seat without reservations.”
She opened the door, and an intoxicating blend of odors assailed Syd. She nearly swooned, and had to fight to keep her nose out of the air. The small lobby area was paneled in dark walnut and comfortably, but simply furnished. Wine racks were stashed everyplace—all of them full. The restaurant itself was made up of a series of smaller rooms with spectacular views of the waterfront.
A middle-aged man, wearing a starched white shirt and black bow tie, approached them from inside the restaurant. He wore a knee-length apron and carried several oversized, leather-covered menus. His eyes widened when he saw Maddie.
“Dr. Stevenson. Welcome back. Are you in town for the conference?”
Maddie grinned sheepishly and shook hands with the man. “Hi ya, Willie. Yeah, just here for the weekend. I thought I’d like to treat my friend here to the best food in Richmond. Willie, meet Margaret Sydney Murphy.”
Willie shook hands warmly with Syd. “Welcome, Miss Murphy. Let me get you set up some place nice before the crowds arrive.” He reached beneath a large stationmaster’s desk and picked up a hefty wine list. “If you’ll just follow me?”
“Thanks, Willie. You’re the best.” Maddie gestured for Syd to walk ahead of her.
“Been a while since you ate here, huh?” Syd muttered under her breath as she passed her.
Maddie shrugged. “What can I tell you?” she whispered. “I’m a great tipper.”
Willie led them across a faded carpet to a small table in a corner, next to a large set of casement windows that overlooked the river. The view was breathtaking. The late afternoon sun was just starting to set, casting long shadows across everything along the riverbank. Small boats and cargo barges slowly moved along the inner-city waterway. From this vantage point, it was easy to imagine what life had looked like in old, antebellum Richmond. Down here, along the riverfront, there was little to suggest that anything in the city had changed. No cars. No traffic lights. No roads to speak of. Walkways lighted with gas lamps ran along the embankment. There was little pedestrian traffic. Here, the pace of life seemed to move along at the same, unhurried rate of the river itself.
They sat down and began to examine their menus. Maddie ordered them each a glass of cabernet to enjoy while they considered their dining and beverage options. Willie arrived in short order with the two glasses of wine and a loaf of freshly b
aked sourdough bread. They sipped their wine as he described the chef’s specials for the evening, and then left them to their own devices. They eagerly discussed the menu, trying to devise a method to try at least one of everything, while Maddie made happy, groaning noises as she bit into a hunk of the hot bread.
Syd smiled and looked up from her menu. Behind Maddie, she could see a striking, dark-haired woman approaching their table. She wore a tailored navy blue suit and carried a black leather bag. She nodded at Syd as she reached their table, then she touched Maddie lightly on the back of her shoulder.
“Hello, stranger,” she said, in a husky voice, tinged with an unmistakable New York accent.
Maddie started and turned to her with a stunned expression on her face. She sat staring at the woman for several seconds. “Gina.” It was just one word, but it seemed to speak volumes. “What, uh . . . what are you doing here?” Syd had never seen Maddie lose her composure like this. She was completely rattled.
Gina laughed. She seemed perfectly relaxed. “I’m here for the conference—just like you, I’d imagine.” She glanced at Syd, and then shifted her gaze back to Maddie. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
The way she said “friend” bothered Syd. Maddie appeared to notice it, too. Syd saw the muscles in her jaw tighten.
“Of course. Syd Murphy, this is Gina Garcetti. Gina, Syd Murphy.”
“Nice to meet you,” Gina said as she extended a hand across the table and limply shook hands with Syd. Even while they were shaking hands, her eyes drifted back to Maddie.
“And you,” Syd replied, clearly speaking to herself. She studied the small woman. Gina was a looker all right. Glossy black hair, cut stylishly short. Brown eyes with amazing long lashes. A tight-fitting suit. Understated, but expensive jewelry. Prada bag. Manicured nails. Everything about her suggested taste and class. And she was looking at Maddie like she was something that had just rolled out on the dessert cart. Syd had a growing sense that a final piece of a puzzle was tumbling into place right before her eyes.
