I snatch the mug from her hand and toss down cash, whirling away and shooting Declan a glare as I exit.
Yes. I saw her. But you don’t crush on someone who’spretty but pulling at every spidey sense you’ve got that something’s off about her.
Especially if she’s just passing through.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sam
Icheck with three places that have help wanted signs propped in their windows. Honestly, that’s more than I expected, and I’m relieved to have options. In the past, I could live off a tiny thread of possibility.
Right now? I need actual, tangible options.
It does help that this town is utterly adorable. It centers on the park, and businesses line three sides with a historic city building on the fourth side that sits right next to a lovely old church. It reminds me of the churches in New York City that are nestled in the midst of things even though Juniper View is the polar opposite of New York in terms of size, location, culture, and so much more. I don’t remember life in New York all that well since I left just before my thirteenth birthday when my mom wanted to try her luck in Hollywood, but I’ll never forget the sheer height of things.
I’ve collected applications for jobs I plan to submit latertoday, and now I get to reward myself. What used to be internal motivation to work hard has withered in the wake of being in survival mode for so long, so now I work off of an incentive system.
I enter what looks like a small outbuilding of the church but proudly displays a sign stating it is the Juniper View Public Library.
Stepping inside gives me the first sense of true safety and calm I’ve had in… maybe years. The library branch I used in LA was a safe place, but I relied on it in such a fundamental way, it didn’t bring the sense of calm I feel now.
And I need calm after that run-in with Sheriff Ryan. The man is too good-looking for anyone’s well-being, and he’s also pushy. Nosy, maybe. Whatever. And his hand on my waist made me feel… hot. Overheated. Overwhelmed-ish, but not in a fearful way. More like a,wait don’t go!way, and that isnotwhat I need in my life right now.
So. Calm. Yes, please.
Here, I’m simply stepping inside this building with stained glass windows. It can’t be all that ancient because the town is only a little over a hundred years old according to the small plaque I saw on the corner of the park, but it feels like a thousand lives have been lived here.
The space has the feeling of fullness, but there’s the quiet that accompanies a library I love so much. No background music playing, no conversations to overhear, just pure quiet, alive with the presence of books and readers.
Basically heaven, especially if I had another coffee in my hand.
As I glance around, I make eye contact with a woman standing behind a small circulation desk. She’s slightly stooped, hair a lovely purply-gray and framing her face.Her attention is directed at the hardback book lying flat on the desk in front of her. The desk is made of the same polished wood decorating every windowsill and several pew-like benches grouped at the far end of the open space.
“Let me know if you need anything.” Her words are barely audible through her bright red lipstick that speaks volumes, but I hear her well enough and smile, mouthing “Thanks” when I do.
It takes mere minutes to tour the collection. They have worn paperback classics, an absurd number of dictionaries, a completeEncyclopedia Brittanica, a smattering of fiction and nonfiction, and a lovely little children’s section. There’s even a small but stout display dedicated to banned books.
Kitty-corner from the children’s area, there’s a worn-out old tube computer with a screen saver bouncing around the front complete with CD-ROM drive to the right and tattered mouse pad, and adorable framed art prints strung up at intervals that say things like, “Books make the world a better place,” and “Readers rule the world.”
There’s not another soul inside, but the librarian is committed to the quiet. I keep my voice low when I ask, “Are you the main branch for Juniper View?”
She smiles with so much pride, it infuses me with secondhand joy just witnessing it.
“Yes. It’s an all-volunteer branch due to funding cuts years ago. But we’ve got a little crew of folks who keep it open.” She glances around. “Someday, we’ll get it expanded, but for now, it’s the principle of the thing. The library is a space for everyone.” She tips her head toward something behind me.
I glance back to see another beautiful art print on the wall with exactly those words.
“Libraries have saved my life more than once, so I’m with you there.” It sounds like hyperbole, but it’s really not.
She nods sagely, like the idea of a library saving someone’s life isn’t foreign to her at all.
And that’s why I’ll always feel at home in them.
“You new in town? I don’t think we’ve met.” She extends her weathered hand with perfectly manicured nails and a glittering gold watch. “Georgia Sullivan.”
“S-am Ellis. Nice to meet you.”
Hopefully, the awkward stutter on my name didn’t faze her. I’m still adjusting to using the nickname, and even though she seems completely lovely and harmless, I can’t avoid the sense that sharing my name is too obvious. I’ve already done it once here, and though I know it’s illogical considering I’ll be sharing a lot more information on job applications, I can’t stop the flood of anxiety.
