Chapter Twenty-One
Liam looked sadly at his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t cook. He could. He just wasn’t very good at it. And even if he were, the summer library kickoff party had drained all the cooking out of him. That, and the copious amounts of sex he was having with Joanna Green.
Thinking about Joanna was too distracting for work. Instead, he thought longingly of Peggy’s freezer full of homemade casseroles. Joanna said they weren’t very good, but if she was faced with the tragedy of this PB&J, would she think differently?
Probably not. He got the sense Joanna stuck to her guns.
He’d like to stick her to his guns.
Wait, what?
Clearly, he was suffering from tragically low blood sugar. He took a big bite of the sandwich.
“Boss, the mayor’s here.” Dani stuck her head in the break room door just in time to see her respected director boss almost choke on a too-big mouthful of sandwich.
“Does he want to see me?” Liam said, rudely, with a full mouth. He couldn’t help it. Hal made him panic.
“No, he’s here with his son. I think he’s just being a patron.”
“That’s weird.”
“I know. That’s why I’m telling you. Sorry to interrupt your lunch.”
“That’s okay,” Liam said. He could finish his sad sandwich later, when the mayor wasn’t here for suspiciously no reason.
* * *
Hal was hanging out by the new books shelf while Kale toddled around, touching all of the books he could reach but not pulling them off the shelves. Kristin had trained him well. Kale was mumbling toddler nonsense, as if he was reading the spines. Hal occasionally put a hand on his son’s head, as if making sure he was still there, while he perused.
“Can I help you find something, Mayor?” Liam asked, hoping his breath wasn’t too peanut butter-y.
“Big, how are you?” Hal gave Liam’s hand a vigorous shake. “I’m just admiring the books.”
“Great. Can I help you find something in particular?”
“No, no, I don’t read.”
Liam winced.
“You sure got a lot of books over here.”
Liam turned and looked at the half a bookcase that made up the New Books area. It was less than half-full. More than half-empty. And that was only because Liam left the new books out for a year, well past their “new” dates. But if he moved the books into the regular stacks any sooner, the shelves would be empty. All the new-new stuff was checked out.
Hal picked up a book with a bright red cover. Liam hadn’t read the whole thing, but he’d skimmed it enough to get the gist: The Internet was making us all stupid and we needed to read more. It was the first time he’d seen it on the shelf—it was usually checked out.
“That’s a pretty interesting book,” Liam said. “The author talks about how our social interactions have changed since—”
But Hal had put it back—in the wrong place—and picked up a book with a pink cover featuring a woman driving a convertible with her scarf waving out dangerously behind her. “What’s this one?”
“That’s a memoir. The author’s husband had an affair, so she sold their house and bought a convertible and took a yearlong road trip around the country.”
“What, like that Eat, Pray, Whatsit?”
“Eat Pray Love?”
“Yeah. Kristin loves that shit. Has she read this one?”
“I’m not sure . . .”
“She comes in here often enough, I thought you’d know.”
“Well, I’m not here all the time . . .”
“Big, I’m gonna level with you.” Hal tucked the memoir under his arm and turned to face Liam. “The council’s decided to table the budget discussion for now.”
“Oh?”
“I think it’s a shame. Those kids up at the high school could use the money, you know? But it’ll still go to buying stuff like—” He picked up a paperback, a paranormal romance featuring a shapely woman in leather pants with an enormous lower back tattoo. He tucked that one under his arm, too. “I mean, why do you have two copies of this one?” He pointed to the next-to-newest James Patterson title. They actually had more than two copies of that book; the others were checked out. And they had even more of the newest one. Also checked out. “See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Hal continued. “Wasteful. If you just spent your money a little more carefully, it’d go a lot further.”
It took every fiber of Liam’s professional being not to roll his eyes. “Noted,” he said.
“I can’t promise I’m not going to go after that money in the future,” Hal said.
“Fair enough.” And I’m going to fight you for every last penny.
“I mean, nobody’s even in here.”
That wasn’t true, there were several dozen people in the library. It wasn’t many, true, but it was a gorgeous summer afternoon. Most people were out enjoying it.
“Doughy Deh!” Kale said, pulling on his dad’s shorts.
“Oh, right, the book. Listen, Kristin sent me to get a book for him—I guess it’s his new favorite. I don’t know what the hell he’s saying, though. What’s the book called, buddy?”
Kale’s face got very serious. “Doughy Dey,” he said, stretching out every syllable so his dad would understand him.
It didn’t work.
“Do you know the Doughy Day book?”
“Do you mean The Snowy Day?” Liam asked Kale.
“Doughy Dey! Doughy Dey!” Kale shouted, clapping his hands.
“At least someone understands the kid,” Hal said.
“So, you got it?” He looked around the new books shelves, as if a classic children’s picture book would be there.
Not that he would scold Hal about that. Not to his face, anyway.
“It would be back in Children’s, but let me check if it’s in.” Liam walked over to the catalog computer and looked it up. “Oh, it looks like it’s checked out. Sorry, buddy. How about another book about snow?”
“You don’t have that one?”
“We do, but it’s checked out.”
“You only have one copy?”
Liam sighed.
* * *
“You don’t think I’m a jerk, do you?”
Starr lifted her head from the throw pillow to look at Joanna.
Joanna smiled at her from where she lay, inches away from the dog’s face.
The dog blinked.
“I’m going to take your non-answer as a no and that you think I’m perfectly delightful.”
Starr reached out her paw to bat at Joanna’s hand. In any other dog, this would have been seen as an adorable sign of affection. For Starr, it meant that you’d better start petting her soon or she was going to unleash her mighty bark.
Joanna sat up and scooped the dog with her, cuddling Starr close while scratching her belly. Joanna had found that Starr didn’t mind cuddling as long as you were also petting her.
Good thing Granny wasn’t home to see this.
“Yes, our granny left us to fend for ourselves,” Joanna explained to Starr, who did not care. She preferred Granny’s company, sure, but Joanna had found that as long as there was someone to scratch behind her ears, she didn’t really care who it was.
Starr also didn’t care that Joanna was an asshole, and had been her whole life. It wasn’t that Joanna didn’t know that she’d said a lot of mean things about Kristin when she was in high school. She just didn’t think that Kristin noticed, or that she cared. But of course she would care.
Joanna just didn’t like to see her as a person with feelings.
Which made her feel ashamed of herself, which made her want to double down on her dislike of Kristin so she didn’t have to deal with the former mean girl or the feelings of inadequacy she brought up.
“I have a very healthy emotional life,” she told Starr. Starr stood up, walked in a tight circle, then lay back down again, facing away from Joanna.
“Great.” Joanna threw her head back on the couch. She was a bully, her grandmother’s dog hated her, and now she was throwing a temper tantrum because things were not going her way.
Not that they ever went her way.
“Oh, good, a pity party on top of a temper tantrum.” She had to get out of the house. She’d also promised Granny she would keep Starr company, even though Starr didn’t seem to want her company.
“That’s it. We’re going for a walk.”
Starr’s left ear rose.
“You heard me. Walk.”
Starr’s left ear went down again.
“Quit pretending to be deaf, I know you heard me. And I know you know what ‘walk’ means.” She scooped up all ten fluffy pounds of Starr, grabbed the leash, and went out the door.
It was a perfect day. She’d give Halikarnassus that. When it wasn’t knee-deep snow or tree-shaking thunderstorms, the weather was pretty amazing. Like today, when the bright blue of the sky matched Liam’s eyes.
Whoa. That was weird.
Well, so what. He had nice eyes. And nice legs. And nice arms. All of his appendages were nice. And he was a nice person. And he was a nice kisser.
Nice.
“Gah, what am I doing? I’m turning into some kind of Halikarnassus Stepford lady.” Starr kept her feet firmly planted on the grass, moving only enough to sniff delicately at what her nose could reach.
Joanna gave the leash a gentle tug. Starr tugged back. Joanna gave it a harder tug. Starr barked.
“Dog, we have to walk, okay? The sooner you get used to the idea, the sooner you can go back to sitting on the couch and judging me.”
“Are you talking to the dog?”
“Waa!” Joanna hadn’t meant to yell so loudly. In her defense, she hadn’t seen Liam run up—in his shorts, she was pleased to notice once her heart stopped threatening to beat out of her chest.
“Sorry, I thought you heard me.” He was still jogging in place. Joanna was mesmerized by the flex of his quad muscles as each foot hit the ground.
“Are you okay?” he asked. He looked down at his legs. Crap, she was caught.
“Yup. Totally okay.” Totally not talking to the dog and sexually harassing you, Nice Liam Man Who Kisses Real Good.
If she wasn’t turning into a Stepford wife, she was certainly turning into an idiot.
“What are you doing here?” Her tone was a little more abrupt than she meant it to be. But then, her tone was often more abrupt than she meant it to be. “I mean, don’t you usually run in the mornings?” Because, like all Halikarnassus Stepford wives, she knew the hot library director’s workout schedule.
“I overslept.”
“Ah,” she said, because she knew why Liam had overslept that morning, and it had to do with his appendages.
Starr, apparently done sniffing the grass around her feet, started pulling on her leash.
“Oh. Apparently we’re walking,” said Joanna. She ignored the disappointment she felt that her conversation with Liam was now over. This disappointment was tempered by the fact that she’d get to watch him run away.
“Mind if I walk with you?”
But then I can’t ogle your butt, she almost said out loud. Instead, she just nodded.
All of a sudden, Joanna felt weird. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do with the hand that wasn’t holding the leash. She was way too aware of Liam, a bead of sweat running down his neck, over his Adam’s apple, into the neck of his shirt.
Her mouth was very, very dry.
“So . . . how was work today?” Joanna said, which was boring but was much better than “Hey, can we stop walking for a minute? I really want to lick your neck.”
“Fine. Good.”
“Convincing.”
He shrugged again, but less in a no-big-deal way and more in an I-don’t-want-to-get-into-it way.
“So you’re running to clear your mind after a crazy day.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Most people just drink.”
“That’s for after.”
They walked on in companionable silence. Joanna was thinking about running, and clearing her mind, and how she was a terrible person.
“How’s Peggy?” Liam asked.
“Hmm? Oh, great. She’s at Phyllis’s. Playing bridge, or so she says.”
“What, you don’t think they’re playing bridge?”
“All I heard on the phone was Magic Mike Two and a lot of seventy-year-old giggling.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“Still . . .”
“Still what?”
“I’m not sure. I was trying to remind us to be nice about older women and their sex drives, but I can’t stop picturing Phyllis and Channing Tatum . . .”
“That’s what you get for trying to be a good person.”
“Duly noted. Poor Phyllis.”
“Poor Channing Tatum.” They kept walking, and Joanna fought the urge to reach out for his hand. She did not hold hands.
“Are you okay?” Liam asked.
Just obsessed with touching you. “Yup.”
“Convincing. So what did you do on this fine Saturday?”
Well, I spent the morning pining after your naked body, she thought. “I went over to Trina’s. We played.”
“That’s great! That is great, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it was really fun.”
“But?”
“But . . . I learned some uncomfortable truths about myself.”
“Oh?”
“I always knew I was a bad person, but today I learned that I’m a bad person in a different way than what I thought I was.”
“Oh.”
“Kristin Klomberg was there.”
“Huh.”
“We don’t get along.”
“I heard.”
“The thing is, she’s really good.” When he looked confused, she added, “She plays bass.”
“Wow. I had no idea. People will surprise you, I guess.”
“You’re telling me.” She couldn’t help but think of last night.
“So . . . the band?”
“Delicious Lies. It was Trina and me in high school. Now it’s Trina and Kristin and me.”
“Fun.”
“God, we really gelled, you know? Like we’d been playing together forever. We talked about trying to get a gig at Chet’s.”
“That’s great! Wait, that is great, right?”
“Sure.”
“Cuz you don’t sound like you think it’s great.”
Joanna stopped and looked around her. This was the street she grew up on. She remembered when the Matarazzos moved out in fourth grade and the Kielys moved in. She remembered talking Kevin Kiely out of the oak in their front yard when he climbed too high and got scared. She remembered spending every summer barefoot, running through sprinklers during the day and catching lightning bugs at night.
The more time she spent here, the more she lost touch with why she was in such a hurry to get away.
Starr sat down in the middle of the sidewalk with a heavy sigh.
“I think your dog’s done walking.”
Joanna leaned down and scooped Starr up. She may have taken a moment to nuzzle her little doggy ears.
She was officially a softy.
“I’ll see you later, okay?” Part of her wanted to invite herself over to Liam’s again, to see if the sparks they’d created last night were just a fluke. But she was feeling too soft, and if he was too nice to her . . .
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
Before she could tell him not to, he leaned over and kissed her, short and sweet. She still had her eyes closed when she heard his footsteps running away.