by Jane Porter
“You’re feisty today.”
“I’m just tired of tiptoeing around, afraid of incurring Margaret’s displeasure. This library is in the dark ages. It’s time it embraced change and technology. Kids read on iPhones and tablets and we should at the very least have New Adult and Young Adult books available for them as downloads.” And yes, Taylor silently added, she was still smarting after this morning’s meeting where Margaret rejected every single book Taylor had suggested as an interesting read for the local teenagers. Margaret still thought Nancy Drew was the leading series for girls. She couldn’t accept that young adults today might enjoy vampires, werewolves, witches or apocalyptic literature stories featuring strong heroines.
“Well, I support you,” Louise said. “And you’ll have a say in the librarian that’s hired to replace me, so be patient and know that change is coming.”
“I’m trying,” Taylor answered, positioning a new black and white photo of Marietta High with its graduating class of 1914 against a trophy dated 1914 before straightening. “Where is Margaret by the way? Still at the dentist?”
“Yes.”
“Good. And I’m finished here, so maybe she won’t even notice. She rarely comes upstairs anymore.”
“I’m glad you’re finished here because you need to come down. Something’s arrived for you. It’s in the staff room.”
“Books?”
“No.”
“Magazines?”
“No.”
Information on the ALA conference this summer?”
“No.”
What then?”
“Just come see,” Louise said firmly, but still beaming and clearly quite excited about something.
Taylor dusted her hands off, closed and locked the glass cabinet door before following Louise downstairs, behind the circulation desk, through the small office to the tiny staff room behind.
Inside the staff room, hanging on the antique coat rack, was an enormous silver garment bag with ornate black calligraphy, Married in Marietta.
“Lisa Renee dropped it off herself,” Louise said. “Just moments ago.”
Taylor arched a brow. “It must be a mistake. I’m not getting married, nor do I know anyone getting married.”
Louise rolled her eyes. “You know everyone’s gone there for their formal gowns for the Ball. As a matter of fact, you were there with McKenna last night. Miss Renee was not. Apparently one of her sales associates was.”
“Yes, and the sales associate rang up my dress and the dress I bought is hanging in my closet at home right now.”
“Maybe there was a mistake—”
“There was no mistake. I bought my dress. It’s in my closet. This isn’t for me.”
“But it is. She brought this for you, and there’s a card with your name on it,” Louise said. “So open it. Read it. The suspense is killing me.”
But Taylor didn’t want to open the card. She suddenly knew who’d sent the dress and it wasn’t McKenna, or Lisa Renee, the elegant stylish manager who did all the ordering for the bridal boutique.
It was Troy. It had to be Troy. McKenna must have said something to him.
Taylor’s jaw tightened as she reached for the little envelope tied to the hanger with a silver ribbon. She slid open the envelope’s flap and pulled out the creamy white card.
Book girls do it better in red spangles.
Troy
Taylor’s heart jumped. Her pulse raced. She knew even without unzipping the garment bag which dress she’d find.
The couture gown.
Taylor peeked into the bag. Glossy red spangles caught the light, glowing and shimmering within.
Her heart fell. She exhaled in a soft, disappointed whoosh.
“Look at that,” Louise murmured.
“Mmm,” Taylor agreed, blinking back tears. It was such a gorgeous gesture on Troy’s part, so exciting, and she loved the thought... she did, but she couldn’t keep it. Couldn’t wear it. Couldn’t ever accept such an expensive gift. “But I have to send it back.”
But before Taylor could phone Married in Marietta, Margaret marched into the staff room.
“Troy Sheenan is here, Taylor. He apparently is interested in joining one of the Book Clubs. He asked specifically about the Tuesday Night Book Group. Personally I don’t think it’s the right place for him, but I’ll leave that to you.”
Taylor found Troy perusing the New and Notable bulletin board display across from the circulation desk, next to the library’s theme table, this month’s theme being Valentine’s Day, with classic romance novels artfully arranged. Jane Eyre. Wuthering Heights. Pride and Prejudice. Sense and Sensibility.
Taylor had fully expected Margaret to reject the theme and choice of books. But she’d left it there, and said nothing.
A victory, in Taylor’s mind.
“Thank you for the dress,” Taylor said, joining Troy in front of the bulletin board display. “But I can’t keep it. I can’t even imagine ever accepting something so extravagant—”
“I didn’t pay for it,” he said, turning to face her. His chiseled jaw was shadowed with a day old beard.
Taylor was surprised how good he looked with a little scruff. She tucked her hands behind her back, fingers threading together. “I’m sure it’s not on loan.”
“No, it’s a gift, from the Lily Jewel, the designer. She wants you to wear it and we’re to be photographed and Jane is to send the photos to all her big-wig publicist friends who will tweet and share and post the photos on every fashion blog imaginable, ensuring that Lily Jewel’s dress is seen by all.”
Taylor blanched. “That’s a lot of pressure. Maybe it would have been better if you’d bought the dress after all.”
“You don’t have to wear Lily’s gown. You have a very nice new dress from Married in Marietta at home.”
She smiled at him. “Are you making fun of my nice new dress, that happens to be practical, and affordable?”
“Just a little bit.”
“I see.” But she couldn’t stop smiling at him. He made her feel good on the inside. Bubbly. Happy. It didn’t make sense. Opposites shouldn’t attract. Big city tycoons shouldn’t like small town librarians. Impulsively, she reached up to touch his scruffy jaw. His skin was warm, his jaw was hard, the black bristles sharp against her fingertips. “I kind of like this,” she said.
He lifted a brow. “That’s good, because I don’t always like to shave.”
“You... lazy?”
“Can’t be clean shaven all the time. Where’s the fun in that?”
“You do look rather... wicked.”
“And that’s appealing?”
She blushed. “Maybe.”
“Why is it that nice girls like wicked boys?”
“McKenna says you’re the good twin.”
“McKenna has never kissed me. How would she know?”
She blushed again. Her heart was beating so fast that her head felt light. “You say the most outrageous things.”
“I like to make you smile.” He dipped his head, kissed her lips, a swift brief kiss that caught her off guard. “We’re going to have fun tomorrow night,” he murmured, before stepping back, putting distance between them just as Margaret rounded the corner.
He shot Margaret a quick glance, then looked back at Taylor, his blue gaze gleaming. “Thank you so much, Miss Harris, for the information about the book clubs. I look forward to attending my first meeting. I’ve never been part of a book club before.”
Jane arrived at the library just before closing and then stayed to visit with Taylor after Margaret and Louise had left.
The front door was locked and Jane leaned on the circulation desk, watching Taylor swiftly swap out issues of magazines from the plastic protective covers.
“These are all Cormac Sheenan publications,” Jane said, tapping the glossy new issues stacked in front of Taylor. “Montana Living, Wyoming Living, Colorado Living, and Big Sky Design”
“We carry a couple more of his,�
� Taylor said, clicking the plastic binder open, and taking out the January/February issue of Big Sky Design for the new March/April issue “I think they are sport oriented magazines. A skiing one, maybe, and a fishing or hunting one.”
“He’s just bought his third TV station to add to his radio station collection.”
“He’s quite the media mogul,” Taylor said.
“By Montana standards,” Jane answered.
“By anybody’s standards. TV stations, radio stations, magazines. I think it’s incredibly impressive.”
“Troy helped him, you know. He gave Cormac a loan so he could buy the first couple of radio stations and then Cormac picked up the Denver-based publishing company for next to nothing a year later, and has turned the publishing company around.”
Taylor clicked the binder closed and reached for Wyoming Living. “It’ll be interesting to meet Cormac tomorrow night. I’ve been curious about him. I hear he’s the only blonde Sheenan.”
“He’s pretty hot... channels Channing Tatum. Some girls like that.” Jane paused, flipping through the magazine. “I always liked brunettes. With blue eyes.”
Like Troy.
Taylor’s chest squeezed and she held her breath a moment. Did Jane still love Troy?
Taylor reached out, put a hand on the magazine Jane was flipping through, stopping her from turning any more pages. “We need to talk,” she said quietly.
“I thought we were talking.”
“About something important.”
“What?”
“Are you madly in love with him?
“Mitch? No. We’ve only had a couple of dates.”
“Not Mitch. Troy.” Taylor leaned on the counter and stared intently into Jane’s face, trying to read her expression. “You’re here for Troy. I’ve done the research. The whole wedding giveaway in 1914 was the clever brainchild of a Graff employee back in 1913, trying to figure out how to generate publicity to the reopening of the hotel after the 1912 fire.” Taylor gave Jane a pointed look. “Just as you are now the clever person creating a publicity event for the new owner of the Graff Hotel.”
“That’s what I was hired to do, yes, but I didn’t take this job for Troy. I took this job because it was an exciting opportunity and there was a big fat salary which paired nicely with Marietta’s cost of living—substantially lower than San Francisco’s--meaning, I could bank some money, starting saving up to buy my own house.”
“So you’re not here to make points with Troy?”
“It doesn’t hurt to make points with Troy. He knows everyone, everywhere. The man is connected.”
“You love him.”
“No.”
“You want him back.”
Jane grimaced. “No. It’d just be a waste of both our time and, to be fair to him, I knew he was never into me, but it was fun being out with Troy. Heads turned. Everyone paid attention. I felt sexy and beautiful when we were together, but I knew something was missing.... not from my side of things, but from his. He didn’t feel anything. There were no sparks. I pretended not to know, or notice, but when we kissed, I could tell he didn’t want to kiss me. And to be honest, it was a turn off.”
“So you don’t love him.”
“I’ve been telling you that for weeks.”
Taylor felt as if a massive weight tumbled from her shoulders. She breathed in, and then out, and in again, feeling lighter than she had in ages.
“I wanted him to love me,” Jane added. “But apparently he felt more brotherly towards me.” She slumped onto the counter. “Do you know how often I hear that? Why do men just want to be my friend?”
“You’re smart. Ambitious. That’s scary for men.”
“Why?”
Taylor grimaced. “I don’t know. Men are stupid.”
Jane burst out laughing. “Did you really just say that?”
“Of course I don’t mean all men, but I think men are far more insecure than they like to let on. I just don’t think they’ve evolved as much as we woman would like to think they have.”
“Are you a feminist, Taylor Harris?”
“I don’t know if I’m a feminist or a realist. But I can’t help thinking that men might be hampered by all their testosterone, while estrogen allows women to be flexible. Because we have to be flexible. Our lives are all about growth and contraction.”
“I had no idea you were such a deep thinker.”
Taylor shrugged and smiled. “Book girls rule.”
Jane shook her head, smiling. “You’re a nut, and for your information, I wouldn’t have ever set him up with you, if I didn’t think you could be the right one for him.” She hesitated a moment. “Troy’s liked you from the beginning.”
“He didn’t even know me until he scooped me up on the side of the highway.”
“He knew about you long before that. Troy was a big part of you getting this job, Taylor.”
“What?”
“Come on, you knew that. He’s a board member for Marietta’s Friends of the Library—”
“I did not know that. I thought Cormac was.”
“Troy replaced Cormac over the summer. There was no way Cormac could care for Daisy and continue with working and holding volunteer positions on all the various non-profits, so he let most the volunteer work go.”
“Wait. I’m getting confused. Daisy isn’t Cormac’s daughter?”
“Daisy was the daughter of Cormac’s best friends, Daryl and April Wilde. Daryl and April died in that big accident on the Las Vegas strip last June. I’m sure you heard about it. The accident was all over the news. Now Cormac is raising their baby.”
“Wow. I didn’t know all that. And I definitely wasn’t aware that Troy had been part of the hiring committee.”
“He was one of the ones that recommended you.”
“There were some who didn’t want me?”
“There were some who thought the library should replace Margaret with someone older, and more mature.”
“Like Judge McCorkle, maybe?” Taylor muttered.
Jane’s eyebrows shot up. “How did you know?”
Taylor’s jaw dropped. “He wasn’t part of the hiring committee!”
“He was. Along with Annabeth Collier, Chelsea’s mom, Sharla Dickinson, the principal at Marietta High, and Samuel Emerson of Emerson Ranch.”
“Ella’s Dad.”
Jane nodded.
“How do you know all this?” Taylor asked.
“Committee meeting notes are always saved in a city Dropbox folder I have access to as Director for the Chamber of Commerce.”
“So you know Marietta’s dirt.”
Jane grinned. “I do.”
“People should be nicer to you.”
Jane laughed as she reached for her coat and purse. “Yes. Yes, they should.” She slipped her coat on. “What time is Troy picking you up tomorrow night?”
“Five forty-five, so we can be there at six, since that’s the start of the cocktail hour.”
“I’m planning on being at the hotel by five thirty. Just to be on the safe side. Mitch is going to meet me there since I’m going so early.”
“That’s no fun.”
“It’s okay. I don’t think Mitch and I have all that much in common anyway. He’s a sports nut and I like the arts.”
“He is a high school football coach.”
“Exactly. Good looking, hunky as heck, but once again, not the right guy for me.”
That evening at home, instead of curling up with a book, Taylor gave herself a manicure and pedicure as she sat in the living room with Kara. The TV was on but Kara was reading through a huge stack of legal briefs and Taylor wasn’t really paying attention to the television program.
“What color did you decide for your nails?” Kara asked, without looking up from her paperwork.
“Red.”
“Good choice. So you’ve decided to wear the Lily Jewel gown?”
“No. Can’t wear it.” Taylor frowned at the smudge in her little to
enail and debated redoing the nail, and then figured it was fine. No one would be looking that closely at her feet. “It’s too... everything... for me. And I’d be terrified I’d tear it or spill something on it.”
“She’s giving it to you.”
“Well, I’m giving it back. She should have someone rich and famous wear that dress. Not a boring librarian like me.”
“You’re far from boring, and you know it.”
Taylor screwed the cap on the nail polish, and stretched, relaxed, and happy. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m excited about tomorrow night.”
“Finally. I’ve been worried about you. You have Marietta’s hottest bachelor taking you to the Ball. You should be counting your blessings, girl.”
“I know.” Taylor glanced down at her glossy red toes and fingertips and then up at Kara, and smiled, unable to hide her excitement. “I am.”
Friday afternoon Taylor had planned to leave work an hour early to go get her hair done. She’d wanted a blow out so her hair would be sleek and shiny and she could wear it down, but just before she left the library she spotted a tall lanky body on the wooden bench in the library foyer.
His coat was open. His dark blonde hair mussed.
Doug.
She couldn’t believe it.
It was bad. Terrible. He’d broken one of the rules of his probation, leaving Hogue Ranch without permission.
Taylor hadn’t even been able to speak. She just looked at him sitting on the bench, his head bent, his thin body angled forward, hands braced against his knees.
She sat down next to him. “Doug,” she whispered, unable to think of anything to say, stunned, disappointed. Speechless.
He didn’t say a word. He just reached out and took her hand. Held it tightly.
His hand was icy cold and his fingers wrapped around hers, holding her hand snugly, desperately. She felt his pain. Felt his anger and pain and desperation.
He was in trouble. Not just trouble with Hogue, or the law, but trouble emotionally, psychologically.
