“It’s not like we know each other that well.”
Minka drummed her fingers lightly on the table as if waiting for more. Cali’s cheeks began to blush. “Is it hot in here?” she asked.
“Oh my God. Something happened. Didn’t it? I knew it! Tom said he saw you two at the fall festival on Friday.”
Damn this town.
“It’s nothing.” Cali stared into her cup. “Just—” She cut herself off before the wordsan earth-shattering kisscould escape. “He dropped off the cat, and neither of us had anything to do. So we went.”
“Uh-huh. Because that’s how people usually end up together on a Friday night … I’m bored. You’re bored. Let’s ride the Ferris wheel and make out.”
“It wasn’t like that. We didn’t ride the Ferris wheel.”
Minka leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “You’re holding out on me. Best friends are supposed to share this stuff, Cals. Otherwise how am I supposed to live vicariously through your bad decisions?”
Bad decisions was the understatement of the year. “You’re right, okay? We went to the fall festival together and he dropped me off at my place and, yes, there might have been a kiss, but—”
Minka squealed and jumped up from her chair. “Why didn’t you say that first?! Who cares about the board.Thisis breaking news! Special report!”
“No. Sit, sit. Stop it!” she chastised. “I didn’t tell you because it’s nothing more than that. A kiss. I’ve made my home here. He’s leaving. So I’m not letting it go any further.” Even as she said those words, she felt a hollow ache open in her middle.
“Damn, Cals. I commend your restraint, but I’m not buying it. You were embroiled in a custody battle over a stray cat last week. Now you’re making out on your porch. You do realize you’re living in an enemies-to-lovers fanfic, right?”
Cali groaned and buried her face in her hands. “You’re impossible.” She gathered the stack of notes on the table, deliberately ending the subject. Because if she kept talking about it, she might admit how much she wanted it to happen again. “Board meeting. Tomorrow. That’s what matters.”
Minka pressed her lips together, unconvinced. “Well then don’t make it a whole ‘thing.’ Keep it a ‘fling.’ No one’s judging you. In fact, several of us might be rooting for you. I know you’re at your best when you’re a woman with a purpose, Cals. But sometimes the whole purpose can be to have fun.”
Cali’s eyes narrowed at her. “Don’t go orchestrating anything, Minka. I’m serious. No meddling. We both saw right through that ‘he knows your order’ attempt at the café.”
“I can’t make any promises on behalf of the universe,” Minka sighed. “But fine. I’ll behave.”
That night, Cali slid into bed with her notes stacked neatly by the lamp. Max curled against her side, purring so hard he vibrated the sheets. She could get used to this.
The phone buzzed one last time on her nightstand.Good luck tomorrow. She didn’t need to check the name, but she did anyway. Ethan Cross. Bold letters across the screen, like he was daring her not to reply.
She stretched out a hand to turn off her lamp, careful not to wake Max curled beside her.
Chapter 12
Monday dawned with no room for distractions, though Ethan’s good luck text had lodged itself in her brain like a bookmark—distinct enough to keep pulling her attention toward it yet easy enough to pause and leave it where it belonged. The library board would gather in less than an hour, and every word she’d practiced with Minka had to count. Unlike Ethan, they weren’t likely to be charmed by a cocky smile.
Max batted at her shoelaces as she dressed for the board meeting, purring like nothing could go wrong. She wished she had his confidence. She buttoned her cardigan, smoothed out her skirt, and headed for the library.
Her palms sweated as she gripped the UV light in front of the five-member board. But her voice was steady while giving her speech. She knew their personalities well already—the naysayer, the ally, the swing voter, and the Board Chair, who’d often stay quiet throughout meetings only to deliver one ego-crushing question at the end. Between that and Minka’s ridiculous role-playing yesterday, Cali was more than prepared.
The naysayer cleared his throat, smug. “Why not stick to classics we can all agree on?Little House on the Prairienever offended anyone.”
Cali steadied her breath. “EvenLittle Househas been challenged for its portrayals of Native Americans. The point isn’tavoiding offense, it’s showing people how complicated history and literature really are.”
A few raised brows. A murmur. She pressed on, demonstrating how patrons would need to check out the UV lights to read the descriptions. When the ally said, “Frankly, I admire the creativity here. This makes the display more engaging,” she felt the tide turn in her favor.
Then the Board Chair leaned forward, hands folded. “My concern, Ms. Jacobs, is this: If we approve your event once, what’s to stop the library from becoming a battleground for every cause? Why should we risk that precedent?”
Cali swallowed hard. “You’re right, Chairman Hargrove. Precedent matters—and I love this library as much as you do. That’s why I’m not asking for a permanent change or even a policy. I’m asking forone week. Banned Books Week is nationally recognized, and this display is about awareness, not division. If it doesn’t educate, I’ll be the first to admit it failed. And I’ll never propose it again.”
Silence stretched. The naysayer huffed. The others exchanged glances.
“All in favor?” Hargrove asked.
