No Reservations

by Natalia Banks

  What can we do? Write to your congressman and ask for some relief. I have created a petition on the website: usignit.com. Tell the people we pay to run our cities that we’d like to keep our libraries, our histories, our futures.

  Thank you for your time and attention. I remain in your service,

  Lorraine Devonshire

  Sally Devonshire shook her head and took a sip of her martini, her red hair freshly dyed. “I don’t see what you have to gain, dear, that’s all.”

  Lorraine wasn’t sure how to answer, and she didn’t really want to be in the position where she had to. “I had to do something, Mom. It’s the library!”

  “I told you to choose a more practical career path. You could have stuck to that court reporting like I told you, you’d never be out of work.”

  “I’d never be out of the courthouse either,” Lorraine said. “All those crimes, testimonies, people lying under oath, sobbing and breaking down… No, I couldn’t do that every day of my life, Mom. Would you?”

  Sally shrugged, draining the last of her martini glass. “I’m in real estate, dear. What do I know?”

  Larry pulled his newspaper down from in front of his white face and graying brown hair. “Take a stand; I’m proud of you, honey!”

  Larry’s enthusiasm and broad smile was genuine. If there was one thing about him, he always believed in taking a stand for what you believe in.

  “Thanks dad, it means a lot… Maybe you can get Mom to see it from our perspective.”

  Sally shook her head. “I hope you don’t get into too much trouble, that’s all.” A sick little nausea curled in the corner of Lorraine’s belly. I know Mom’s just being her usual pain in the ass, she couldn’t help think, but she’s probably right this time. “Couldn’t you just have signed it anonymous?”

  “I… I guess I could have. But then who would have paid attention?”

  “Nobody,” Sally said. “That’s the point.”

  “That ain’t how we roll, is it, baby girl?” Larry remarked.

  Lorraine couldn’t help but smile, setting a hand on her father’s shoulder. “Thanks, Dad, your support means a lot.”

  Larry smiled. “You know I got your back, Lo’.”

  The next morning, Albert Jenkins wasn’t nearly so supportive. He threw the copy of The Denver Post on Carmen’s little desk in her only slightly larger office. “What were you thinking, Lorraine?”

  Lorraine tried to ignore Carmen’s angry glare and focus on Albert, their mutual boss. “I thought I might raise public awareness—maybe enough people would send letters, sign my petition, and we could save the library. Isn’t that what we all want?”

  Albert shook his big, round head. “Of course it is but…there are protocols, channels; you have to follow certain methods—”—”

  “Bureaucracy, you mean,” she said. “But that’s just what’s going to get us all canned, and run the whole public library system into the ground.”

  “This is no way to deal with it,” Albert said. “I’m afraid you’ve left us with little choice.”

  That nasty little nausea curled in Lorraine’s stomach. “You mean…I’m fired?”

  “Of course you are!”

  Carmen couldn’t seem to keep herself from saying, “Mr. Jenkins, please—”

  But Lorraine asked simply, “What’s the difference? We’re all canned anyway.”

  “But your benefits,” Carmen said, turning to Albert. “Can’t we just pretend this never happened?” But a slow shake of Albert’s head told Carmen and Lorraine what his only answer could be.

  Lorraine looked around at the place which had been her childhood refuge, her adult safe harbor, and her latest source of heartbreak. “Soon enough, we’ll all be able to pretend that none of this ever happened. Our children won’t even know the word library.”

  “Times change, Lorraine,” Albert said. “It’s always better to go along. The tree which survives is the one which bends in the wind, and doesn’t allow itself to be broken by it!”

  Lorraine’s lips twitched; she struggled to hold back words that needed to be heard, words she needed to say. But before she could answer and digest the information, several hard knocks fell on the little office door. Lorraine, Carmen and Albert turned to see the door quiver a bit under another cluster of knocks.

  Albert called, “Come in!”

  Chapter 3

  A tall, handsome man stepped into the office, drawing the air from the room and the breath from Lorraine’s lungs. His dusty-blond hair was slightly feathered, perfectly coifed above his sterling-blue eyes.

  “Hello,” he said in a voice that was strong without being too loud—an authoritative flex to his tone as he extended his hand to Albert. “I’m Griffin Phoenix, visiting from New York.” He glanced back at the door. “The name on the door was Carmen Mendez?”

  Carmen extended her hand and he took it. “I’m Carmen Mendez, chief librarian, this is Lorraine Devonshire, and this is Albert Jenkins, from the library commission.”

  But Griffin’s attention was fixed on Lorraine. “Lorraine Devonshire, you’re the person I’ve come to see, actually.”

  Her heart beat just a little faster as she met the gaze of this gorgeous man standing in front of her. She did her best to calm her nerves. “And how may I help you, Mr. Phoenix?”

  “Griffin, please. I came because I’m in town with my son, taking a little skiing holiday, and I read your open letter in the newspaper.” Albert’s eyes shifted from Griffin to Lorraine and back as Griffin went on, “It was quite moving…inspirational, I’d say.”

  “Oh, well, thank you, um, Griffin. You’re very kind to share that,” Lorraine said, blushing.

  “I’m not being kind; it’s true. I didn’t know you’d be so lovely.” A tension filled the little office, but it wasn’t an awkward tension. Nothing about Griffin Phoenix seemed awkward, not in the least. His tall, athletic body was comfortably draped in slacks and a brown leather flight jacket.

  Albert said, “Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Phoenix.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Griffin said, pulling out a smartphone and pressing a few buttons on the screen. Lorraine and the others could only watch in perplexed silence as Griffin paused, then said into the phone, “Yeah, this is Griffin Phoenix, I’m calling from the…” He turned to Lorraine, “Which branch is this?”

  “Hadley, on South Grove Street.”

  “The Hadley branch of the Denver Public Library. You wanna go ahead and send somebody down here…? Yeah, and a photographer.… Something like Librarians Letter Saves Library. Yeah, and don’t keep me waiting, eh? I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

  Griffin swiped the screen and pocketed the phone. He pulled a check out of his wallet and handed the check to Albert. “I suppose this should go to you.”

  Albert unfolded the check and read it, his mouth falling open. “Mister Phoenix, this is a million dollars.”

  Griffin shrugged. “Not enough?”

  “Well, um, no, I mean, yes, it’s very generous, of course, but, um…”

  “Will it keep the branch open?”

  “I’m sure it will, yes, but I feel that I should tell you, Mr. Phoenix, that even this is only going to be a-a temporary stay of execution, if you will.”

  “That’s the reason for the newspaper. We’ll set an example, see if we can’t really stir up some publicity for this campaign.”

  Lorraine repeated, “Campaign?”

  “Of course,” Griffin said. “That’s the only way to get anything accomplished in this country. You need media, you need publicity. If you can win in the court of public opinion, everything else falls into place.”

  Lorraine couldn’t disagree, and she didn’t want to contradict this man on that point or any point. She just didn’t know what to say.

  Griffin turned to Carmen and Albert. “You should both be very proud of your Miss Devonshire here.” He asked Lorraine, “It is Miss?” She nodded with a coy smile she couldn’t disguise. “I imagine
she wrote that letter at some professional risk.”

  But Albert was quick to say, “Oh no, not at all! We stick by our staff around here, without question. Loyal to a fault, that’s our motto.”

  Lorraine’s eyes found Albert’s lying face, but she didn’t call him out on it. Instead, Lorraine asked Griffin, “You said you were here on a skiing holiday with your son?”

  “Ashe—he’s in periodicals with his nanny. Kid loves the Hollywood Reporter—gonna be an agent someday.”

  Carmen seemed to know what Lorraine was getting at. “Spring break was two weeks ago,” Carmen said.

  Griffin nodded. “We like to avoid the crowds.” Griffin read their expressions, then broke out in an amused little huff at their confusion. “Ashe is homeschooled. Sometimes his tutor travels with us, though in this case it’s just us and Mrs. B.”

  “Homeschooled,” Albert repeated.

  “Tutor,” Carmen repeated.

  “Mrs. B?” Lorraine repeated.

  “Marion Beemish looks after Ashe when I can’t. She’s like his second grandmother.”

  Grandmother, Lorraine thought. Thank God! Wow…wait…what does it even matter? This guy could have and probably does have the most drop-dead gorgeous women throwing themselves at him all the time. I just work at the library—sweet, virginal librarian Lorraine, always doing the right thing. There’s no way he could be interested in me. Our lives are worlds apart. He’s got a son; I’m an only child; I’ve never even babysat before. Calm down, Lorraine; he’s just here to save the library. She felt her face flush.

  Griffin led Lorraine and the others out of the little office to introduce his boy, but they were met by a sweaty, balding man in a red flannel. A second man carrying a camera took pictures of everything, avoiding the children sitting at the tables.

  The sweaty man extended a business card. “Dorian Gale, the Denver Post, my photographer, Stu Jeffers. You called about a story?”

  “Gave you the scoop, Dorian,” Griffin said. “You know that open letter you published, by librarian Lorraine Devonshire here?”

  “Sure do, phone’s been ringing off the hook.”

  “Get ready to tear it outta the wall. I’m donating one million dollars to this library to pay for its continued operation, due entirely to Miss Devonshire’s letter.”

  “Really?”

  Photographer Stu started clicking pictures of Lorraine, and of Albert and Carmen.

  Griffin said, “I was so moved by her clarity and the grace of her sentiments, I couldn’t help but do whatever I could. And I call upon others like me—the one-percenters—to do the same. We’ve taken enough from the system; it’s time to give back. I know we all give to various charities and organizations that we believe in. And I want to remind the other Fortune Four Hundred and Ninety-nine to put the public library at the top of your give list. If our government won’t spare this sacred institution, it’s up to us to do it.”

  “You live and work in New York?” Dorian asked Griffin. “What brought you here?”

  “I came here on vacation, which I think I’ll be extending…indefinitely.” He glanced at Lorraine, a look of infinite possibility in his eyes. It was like he looked right through her soul. She blushed as she noticed the temperature increasing between her legs. A little shiver ran up her spine as she realized she’d never felt that aroused by any guy she’d ever met before. Let alone with one look. “I want to make sure the library gets back on its feet. And I like Denver, always have. It’s a city unparalleled in its natural beauty.”

  After a few more questions, Griffin shooed the reporter and photographer away and led Lorraine, Albert, and Carmen to the periodicals section.

  Ashe Griffin and Marion Beemish sat at one of the many long tables, racks of magazines nearby. “Ashe,” Griffin said and the boy obediently lowered his copy of the Hollywood Reporter. “Son, this is the woman who wrote that letter we liked so much—Lorraine Devonshire, and this is Carmen Mendez and Albert Jenkins—they also work for the library.”

  “Hello,” Lorraine said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Carmen offered.

  Albert extended his hand and the young man shook his, a serious expression on his nine-year-old face.

  Griffin went on, “Mister Jenkins, Ms. Mendez, this is my son’s nanny, Marion Beemish, who we fondly refer to as Mrs. B.”

  Lorraine took in the old woman’s short, slight frame and cheerful smile, among other details—one of them a broach on her pressed, gray four-button jacket. “What a lovely broach,” Lorraine said. “Is that a ruby?”

  “My birthstone,” she said, boasting.

  Griffin said to Mrs. B., “I’m going to finish up with these people and we’ll be on our way. Excuse us?”

  Ashe nodded, his own blond hair shorter than his father’s, a few strands hanging over his forehead.

  “Of course sir,” Mrs. B. said, glancing at Lorraine and the others. “So nice to have met you.”

  “The pleasure was ours,” Albert said, Lorraine and Carmen nodding.

  Walking away, Griffin quietly explained, “My son doesn’t mean to be rude. Poor kid hasn’t said a word since his mother died.”

  “How awful,” Lorraine couldn’t help but say.

  “Yeah, he’s really taking it hard. Great kid though—really smart, big, big heart.” Griffin turned to gaze at the boy. He forced a smile. “Had a thought. We’re gonna stick around a little while, and we could use somebody to show us around town. Can you take a few days off?”

  “Me? I…um…” Lorraine turned to Albert and Carmen. “Gee, it’s not for me to say, really…”

  Albert and Carmen looked at each other, Albert once again stammering, his mouth flapping but producing no actual words.

  Griffin said, “I think since Miss Devonshire here has saved the library, she’s deserved a little vacation.”

  Albert said, “No, it’s…it’s fine, really. I’m sure we can muddle through a few days. Go ahead, take the week.”

  “The whole week? Mister Jenkins, I can’t afford to take a whole week off!”

  Griffin said to Albert, “Miss Devonshire and I may need to work out the details of our campaign, so it’s really library business…”

  “Right, business,” Albert said, “of course, I… anything you say, Mr. Phoenix.”

  “Excellent.” Griffin turned to Lorraine. “You don’t mind?”

  “Why…no, not at all, Mr. Phoenix.”

  “Griffin.”

  Lorraine’s head dipped, demure. “Griffin.”

  “Great.” After a moment of Lorraine’s silent amazement, Griffin said, “Get your coat.”

  Chapter 4

  The ziplines cut through the thickly forested Rocky Mountains; the smell of pine was rich in the air and a falcon soared overhead. The breeze pushed Lorraine’s short red hair back, refreshing and a bit frightening. A chasm opened up beneath Lorraine as she clung to that harness, the metal cable thunking a reassuring base drone above her. For as long as that cable stayed tight, Lorraine knew she’d be okay. But there were the various buckles and straps to worry about too. Luckily, the trip down the line was so thrilling and fast that Lorraine didn’t have too much time to worry about it.

  Wow. I can’t believe I’m here doing this. I can’t believe I’m here with HIM! That he wants me to be his tour guide. This is all so outside my comfort zone. I read, I stay inside, I play it safe, I don’t mingle with insanely hot Bajillionaires. Fuck, he is so hot. Focus on the line, Lorraine; don’t crash into anything! I know I have to stay in line, keep my emotions in check. I can’t screw this up.

  But her blood was still rushing in her veins. She arrived at the end of the line, falling into Griffin’s strong arms. Lorraine couldn’t deny the rush of excitement pulsing in her tissues, swirling around her and within her. Laughter erupted out of her mouth as she leaned against Griffin’s strong chest, sheer exhilaration overwhelming her.

  Ashe was silent and somber, but even he couldn’t fight the smile that was wriggling it
s way onto his young face—a miniature of his father’s. The zipline adventure included several more stretches of death-defying thrills before it was over and they unstrapped and unfastened the buckles.

  “What do you both say we check out the restaurant, grab some dinner, and catch this magnificent sunset?” Griffin suggested. Lorraine smiled in agreement and Ashe nodded his head. The sun was beginning a slow and glorious descent, the blue sky burning orange and yellow, with purple bleeding in over the horizon.

  At the restaurant, they nestled in, enjoying the beauty of the nature that surrounded them. The truffle fries were drizzled with a black aioli and herbed Parmesan; the Bangs Island mussels were served with chorizo sausage, white-wine garlic butter sauce, tomato brunoise, chives, and focaccia. The combination of favors collected on Lorraine’s tongue, exciting her taste buds and all her senses. Every bite was sensual. A crisp chardonnay was the perfect compliment, and also helped soothe Lorraine’s nerves from the rush of the ziplines.

  Ashe was silent as always, but Lorraine kept talking to him anyway, treating him the way she’d treat any child at the library or anywhere else. “I can’t believe you weren’t afraid,” Lorraine said, the chewy mussels savory and buttery on her tongue. “I was half-convinced that line was just gonna snap and down I’d go.”

  Ashe just shrugged; Griffin’s eyes fixed on his son. “These things are generally well-maintained,” Griffin said. “There are worse things out there.”

  “I know that’s true,” Lorraine said. She wasn’t sure how far she should go, or how the boy would receive any outreach. But she already had a fondness for Ashe, and she couldn’t resist the temptation to try to help him. “What a delicious meal. Thank you again, Griffin.”