Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
I glance back at the station. It’s teeming with guys who look like they belong on a fireman calendar. I grit my teeth, then breathe out hard. I breathe out fire. “With firemen?”
“Yes, that’s who usually works at a fire station,” she says dryly.
I stare back at the scene in front of the firehouse. Yeah, there’s easily a dozen firemen, the type that everyone crushes on. “I’ll pitch in at your fundraiser. That can be our number six.”
“But don’t you have morning skate? And a nap schedule to adhere to?” she asks, but she’s not being mean—just the woman who knows me so well.
“I do,” I reply, because she’s right. The fundraiser starts early though. “But I can serve pancakes, and still make it to the rink for morning skate, then hit the hay.”
“A regular superman,” Josie muses. “You’ll really help?”
One of the firemen seems to linger on my car—or more specifically, the woman inside it.
I growl. “Yeah. I’ll absolutely be there.”
Since no way am I letting the firemen snag a chance to hit on my sexy librarian.
She’s mine. Well, for another six weeks she damn well is, and fuck anyone who tries to take her.
33
IF YOU GIVE A PIG A PANCAKE
Josie
At work on Friday morning, I bite into a brownie, and it’s so sinfully good, I moan shamelessly. Eddie chews his and whimpers loudly. Thalia devours hers and groans for days. “Dolores can never leave us,” she says of the dark chocolate treat, courtesy of the children’s librarian.
Someday maybe they’ll feel that way about me. But I keep that thought to myself, focusing on my colleague’s baking prowess instead. “I swear, I’m going to find a way to get her brownie recipe from her.”
“Good luck, sister. I’ve been trying for years,” Eddie says, shaking his bald head.
“I can see why,” I say as we finish off our brownies before the vultures from circulation can descend on them. When we’re done, I head to the digital center on the second floor. Thalia catches up with me on the staircase. “Question for you, Josie. Do you think you could do a display for us at the fundraiser tomorrow? Of Your Next Five Reads recommendations?”
Did she just say a display? Like a display of books? I’m salivating. “Yes. For different combos of books?” It comes out like I’m on helium.
“Yes, maybe three or four sets total. Different genres for a table by the pancakes? To get the word out about the online recs you’ve been doing.”
“Yes,” I say. Possibly I sound louder than I do when Wesley makes me come.
That’s something he’s done every night this week. If I’d known having regular sex with your roommate was going to be so fun I’d have started it sooner.
“That would be great,” Thalia says, and I’m doubly excited for tomorrow—both to make a display and to spend more time with Wes.
I’m not so excited about my inbox though. I haven’t heard a word from the non-profit that sent me here. I’ve already gotten two rejections for grants. They were long shots, but still, it stings. Then, I found a job opening in Marin County earlier this week and submitted my application in mere seconds, only to be shot down the next day.
Talk about disheartening.
I try to remind myself that there’s time. Maybe I need to tell Thalia that I’d love to stay. What if she could help? What if she knows someone? I haven’t said a word yet because I wanted to prove I could do a good job first. Best not to come in hot in your first several weeks on a job and say hey, boss, can I stay?
But she’s also not a mind reader, so she’ll only know I want to stay if I tell her.
Before I go to the center and she goes to the reference desk, I stop next to a display of romance novels that’ll keep you up all night, swallow some courage, and say, “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Her eyes turn serious, and she stops walking too. “Sure. What is it?”
I hope I don’t sound as nervous as I feel. For someone who likes to escape into books rather than sales pitches, this is so hard. I try to keep my tone calm and upbeat though. “I love the work I do here. I think I’ve done a good job. And if there’s any way I could stay on, I wanted to let you know I’d say yes in a heartbeat.”
“You have done a great job,” she says, but her smile is of the let-you-down variety. “The budget’s tight though. We’re all feeling it citywide. But you know I’ll give you an excellent reference for anywhere.”
My stomach sinks, but nope. That won’t do. Chin up. It’d be a fairy-tale ending if she waved her magic wand and said, “Oh you want a job? I have one! Take it.”