Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“What the fuck were you thinking? I know you’re not that stupid. You knew this was important. You—”
“Calm down, Remy. I almost had him. I’ll get in next time.”
“Next time? When is that going to be? If he didn’t let you in during regular hours, he’s not going to let you in after work.”
“I won’t give him a choice.”
“No. You’re not to hurt him. You’re not to do anything that will bring police attention to the library.”
I decided not to tell him how close I’d come to doing just that. “I made it clear to Julian that calling the police wouldn’t do any good.”
“Holy fuck. I seriously thought you were more competent than this.”
I scowled at the phone. I was happy to acknowledge I had different methods than my brother, but I wouldn’t put up with him telling me I was incompetent or any other thing that made me seem inferior to him. We were different, but he wasn’t better than me. Sure, he’d always been the responsible one, the one who was willing to spend his life working—at least until he’d met Henri. Pop was passing the mantle of head of the family to him, but that was just because he was the oldest. The two of us had always worked together. We were a team.
Our half brother, Corbin, was ten years younger than me. It had taken until recently for me and Remy to see him as a serious partner, but more and more, he was proving himself to us. I was sure Remy was going to give him more opportunities for leadership, especially since Corbin’s boyfriend, Beau, was so good at taming his bratty side. We were a family, and family shouldn’t treat each other like they didn’t count.
“Just because I don’t do everything your way doesn’t mean I won’t get it done.”
“This can’t be done your way.”
“If you hadn’t made an ass of yourself at the library, you could have handled this yourself.”
“Lancelot. That’s enough.” Ooh, he was using his scary voice.
“If you’d stop being so fucking secretive and tell me what was really going on, I might understand why this is so important. You’re treating me like you used to treat Corbin.”
Remington blew out a breath. “I thought it would be easier for you to go into this not knowing. It’s complicated.”
“I like complicated.” Julian is complicated.
“Corbin is at Beau’s place. Pick him up, and get over here so we can talk.”
4
Julian
I don’t know how I made it through the last hour of the day. Normally, I stayed after we closed, continuing with cataloging or taking care of things that would never be done unless we had more staff. Today, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I’d always thought of the library as a safe place, a place where I felt at home and like I had value. That evening, my mind whirled with thoughts of Monkey Man. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to think straight until I got out of there. I could still smell his cologne, and I’d spent far too long gazing at the flowers he’d brought. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to throw them out. They were just too lovely.
The moment Gwen locked the front door, I grabbed my bag, pulled out my keys, and turned to head out the rear of the building.
“Hold up,” Gwen called.
When I turned, I saw she was carrying the bouquet. “You’re forgetting this.”
I shook my head. “Leave it.”
“But what if the flowers send out their pollen and it scatters onto some of the library materials?”
“I’m not in the mood for teasing right now.”
Gwen sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to cheer you up. They’re beautiful, and I wanted you to take them home. Your apartment could use some color.”
I’d lived with my dad until he’d passed away. I’d thought about moving out several times, but I ended up being glad I hadn’t. He needed someone there, especially at night, during his last months.
After he was gone, I wanted to live somewhere else, but there wasn’t much I could afford. With the uncertainty of my job’s future, I needed to save as much of the money from the sale of my dad’s townhouse as I could. So I got a small apartment within walking distance of work. It was the top floor of a carriage house garage behind a large home that used to be beautiful but now needed some repair.
I liked the space, but I hadn’t taken the time to really do anything with it. The walls were white, and I hadn’t hung up any art. Gwendolyn was right. It could use some color, but not these flowers that had come with a price.
“You can have them if you want. Put them on the front desk or take them home. I don’t care.”