Page 26 of Love is a Game

Andrew was by the door when she walked in, putting books onto the holds shelf. She was almost relieved by the sight of his old Stanford sweatshirt and basketball shorts. Her reaction to his outfit the night before had left her so embarrassed, she’d lost sleep over it. Unfortunately, his five-o’clock shadow had only improved his newly shaved features.

She dropped her eyes to the floor and hurried past him, hoping to leave the sandwich on his desk without saying anything, but he saw it right away.

“You can’t bring food in here,” he told her. “It’s a library.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know that. It’s for you. From my mom,” she added, before he could get any ideas.

His eyes perked up. “Really? Is it on her homemade bread?”

Why wasn’t she surprised he’d had it before? “Yeah. Fresh this morning,” she deadpanned.

“Well, tell her thank you,” he said, taking the dish from her. “Do you want a delivery tip, or . . .”

“Oh, no thanks. Unlike some people, I actually have a job,” she told him, making a face before heading toward the office.

He followed her. “I have a job. I feel like we’ve been over this.”

“I have a real job,” she amended.

He shook his head and chuckled. “Oh, Shady, you are so pretentious. Librarian is a real job.”

“Not in Briar Cove, it isn’t,” she countered, dropping her purse onto the desk. “Do you know how many times I caught Mrs. Dobbs napping in here when I was a teenager?”

“Come on, what do you expect? She’s an old lady.”

“Yeah, and so was the librarian before her, and probably the one before that.” Sadie pointed to the room outside the office and said, “This is a job for an old woman who wants to retire but still needs something to do, not a thirty-year-old former lawyer.”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m thirty-one.”

“Andrew, you know I’m right.” She gestured at his outfit. “If you thought this was a real job, you wouldn’t be dressed like a freshman on his first day of class. Clearly, you don’t take your job seriously, so why should I?”

He was smiling but it didn’t look sincere. Maybe she had taken things too far. When he didn’t leave, she asked, “Is there a reason you followed me in here?”

He hesitated, tapping the doorframe with his knuckle, and then gestured with his chin toward a box beside her. “The other night I found all of the tax returns from the last twenty years,” he told her. “They’re all in there.”

“Oh.” She glanced inside the box. He appeared to be telling the truth. She felt a sudden pang of guilt for her harsh words. “That’s . . . very helpful.”

“You organized most of the other boxes; I figured it was the least I could do. Maybe it’ll buy you some extra time to spend with your sister,” he said softly, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

Sadie was taken aback. It felt like a trap, but she couldn’t see how. Was there something he wanted from her? She scanned his face for any hint of mischief but he looked sincere.

“All right, then. I’ll leave you to it,” he said, disappearing from the doorway.

I’ll try when he tries.

She let out a long breath. It didn’t really count, though, did it? She was going to find the box eventually. At most, he had saved her a day or two.

Which he didn’t have to do.

Outside of the office she heard Andrew begin to sing “Born to be Wild.” She shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. Maybe his singing was part of a diabolical plot to drive her away from the library, but he would have to try harder than that to get rid of her.

She opened her laptop and set it on the desk, then picked up the tax return on the top of the box and got to work.

An hour later she stood up and stretched as her eyes swam with numbers. Data entry wasn’t something she enjoyed, and she needed a break. Several families had come into the library over the last half hour, so Sadie walked to the office door to see if there was something going on.

She heard them before she spotted them, a group of parents and toddlers in the children’s corner all gathered around Andrew where he sat in the rocking chair. She approached them slowly, staying close to the wall so as not to be noticed. Andrew held a dinosaur picture book up for everyone to see and seemed to be doing different voices for each prehistoric character. The young kids were wiggling and bouncing, their excitement evident. She giggled at the sounds of their little roars. At the end of the book, Andrew stood. The toddlers and a few of their brave parents joined him on their feet.

“All right,” he said, clapping his hands. “We’re going to sing 'If You’re Happy and You Know it, Be a T. Rex!' I want to see your best dinosaur faces!”