The Librarian Principle (38 page)

She pushed on his chest, but he didn’t budge. “We need to stop,” she panted against his mouth. “We can’t afford this kind of indiscretion.”

Ryder closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing her. “Just so you’re aware, I plan to spend the holidays recreating every deviant fantasy I’ve had about you since you first spent the night in my bed.”

“That sounds like fun.” As she spoke, Liese retreated, afraid his proximity would cloud her sensibilities. She could settle for spending the next two weeks confined to his bedroom, but she needed to get out of his office before she did something stupid—like ask about those fantasies.

A knock at the door startled them both.

Without waiting for a response, Harvey turned the knob and poked his head inside. “Sorry to interrupt, but the director is here.”

“We’ll finish up later.” Ryder looked vaguely ill. If things had escalated further, they could’ve been caught, and by Harvey of all people.

“Of course.” Liese slipped past Harvey, who took up most of the doorway, and went straight to the library, where students checking out books for the holidays kept her busy all morning. An out and out brawl almost started over
The
Catcher in the Rye
, until Liese pointed out there were six copies available for loan. At lunch she squirreled away in her office to finish up paperwork and hide from her colleagues.

This allowed her to successfully dodge Blake, but she’d planned to help take down the remains of the set and clean up the prep rooms behind the stage at the end of the day. He would inevitably be there.

After school, anxiety settled in her stomach as she opened the door to the auditorium. A handful of students carted the remaining set pieces off stage. She envied them, untainted by adulthood and its many complications. She almost yearned for the simplicity of high school, when her most pressing issues had been whether she’d aced her English essay and whether the boy she had a crush on liked her back.

She stood at the back of the theater, and the memory of Sean in the same spot, looking at her with scorn, made her skin crawl. Determined to stop thinking about such unpleasant things, she squared her shoulders and walked down the aisle. Blake knelt at the base of the stage, engrossed in a tangle of cables.

“Ms. Harper!” One of the cast members charged at her. The girl flung her arms around Liese. “Oh my God, you’re here! Someone said you were arrested last night, but I said no way; Ms. Harper would never do anything illegal.”

Liese choked on a laugh. The girl cast a suspicious glance behind her before she lowered her voice to a whisper. “You know what those cheerleader types are like—all gossip, gossip, gossip. I didn’t believe a word of it, not for a second. But then someone else said you had a stalker, and I thought, well, maybe, because you’re so pretty, and all the boys in the play are in love with you. Except for a couple, but they’re in love with Mr. Stone.” The girl paused to take a breath, her eyes lighting up. “Are you in love with Mr. Stone?”

“I . . . uh . . .” Liese struggled to put words together for a moment, and thankfully, Blake saved her.

“Can you check the back room and make sure it’s tidied?” he asked the chatty young lady. “Then we’re done for the day.” He fought an amused smile.

“Sure, Mr. Stone! See you later, Ms. Harper.” She flitted away.

Blake came up the stairs, dusting his hands on his pants. “She’s got a lot of energy.”

“You don’t say.”

“She’s a sweet kid.”

“Not sure that’s how I would describe her, but her concern is endearing.” Liese paused to take a breath. “The rumors aren’t, though.”

Blake stuffed his hands in his pockets. “They saw a police car, so they make up stories.”

“One of those stories included a stalker.”

Blake shrugged. “Sean’s been here a couple of times; maybe they noticed him before? Our kids are pretty perceptive, and they like you.” He tilted his head. “They asked questions when you weren’t here after the play last night. I tried to run interference, but there was only so much I could do. Even without the flashing lights, the police car gave them something to hypothesize about.” He spoke with an air of apology.

Liese sighed. “It’s just so embarrassing.”

“Why, because your ex is a psycho? At least he’s your ex. What did the police do, anyway?”

“I’m not sure. I just gave them another statement. I think they’ll give him some kind of probation and a caution, but I worry he needs serious help. I hope they make it some kind of stipulation.” Liese picked an imaginary piece of lint off her blouse.

Blake dropped into one of the theater chairs and patted the seat beside him. They sat in silence for a long while, waving to the last of the stage crew as they departed. Liese wanted to address the elephant in the room, but she had no idea how. Blake, being the good friend he was, did it for her.

“Whitehall, huh?” He nudged her arm.

“Don’t judge me.”

Blake raised his hands. “I’m done with that. Every garbage can needs a lid.”

“Hey!” She smacked his arm. “That’s a horrible analogy for a relationship.”

“It’s just a figure of speech.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is,” Blake argued with a smile.

“A figure of speech is a common phrase or saying. That is not a common phrase.”

They lapsed into silence again.

“In all seriousness though, what’s going on between the two of you? Is it a relationship?” he asked. “Must be pretty challenging to keep it hidden.”

Liese stayed quiet, unwilling to voice her insecurities.

When she didn’t respond, he pressed her. “How long has this been going on?”

“Long enough,” she said.

“Liese.”

“We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months.”

“Wow. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Which is why I didn’t tell you. I don’t want people to think I’m trying to sleep my way up the ladder. I’m terrified of the impact this could have on my career—or Ryder’s, for that matter. Remember our conversation at orientation about the teacher who had an affair with her principal? I’m sure you can see why I wanted to hide it.”

“Well, yeah, I can see why you wouldn’t want
everyone
to know.” Blake peeled a sticker that read “Super!” from the armrest of his chair. “I mean, that would be awkward, and teachers are generally a bunch of gossipmongers. But this is me we’re talking about.”

“I couldn’t risk it.”

Blake looked at her with disapproval.

“Don’t try to make me feel bad; I already do. There was just too much to lose: my relationship with Ryder, my career, your respect. It’s not like I planned to get involved with him. It just happened. And I didn’t want to be judged—not like that couple all the teachers have been talking about since I got here.”

“I think you’re missing a crucial detail,” he said. “They got caught going at it under the bleachers during a school dance—by a student.”

“What?”

“Yeah. It was crazy. The kid videoed it and posted it on YouTube. It went viral.” Blake looked like he might have seen the clip.

“Oh.” That put a whole new spin on her colleagues’ morbid fascination with the situation.

“Look, I get why you would want to keep your relationship under wraps, because yeah, people make assumptions and judgments. But I’m not most people. I’m me, and I’m your friend before I’m your colleague.” Blake made a fist and double tapped his chest, right over his heart, bringing their conversation to a whole new level of cheese. “You can date who you want, and I won’t give a shit—unless it’s that ex of yours. Then I’ll have to intervene. Or that new guy in the science department who looks like a troll. He’s off limits too; that would just be wrong.”

“Are you serious?”

“Sorry, I got carried away. Truthfully though, if you’d told me about Whitehall at the beginning I could have gotten over the shock of you being with that anal prick.”

“He’s not an anal prick, and no, you wouldn’t have. You would’ve tried to get me to break it off because you hate him,” Liese countered, fending off a grin.

“Probably.” Blake agreed.

“You’re an ass.”

“Sometimes. But just so we’re clear, I’m not judging your actions. Although I’m still flabbergasted that it’s Whitehall. Is he as wound up in bed as he is at work?”

“I’m not answering that question.” Liese bent to pick up a ticket stub from the floor to hide her flaming cheeks.

“Huh. Not so sure I want to know why you’ve turned the color of a tomato.”

“Can we please change the subject?” Liese gripped the armrests and pushed out of her seat.

“Sure thing.” Blake also stood and offered her a sly grin. “So, in case you didn’t know, I’m really digging your friend Marissa.”

In the wake of his disclosure, Blake asked Marissa out on a date for that very evening. Liese ignored her twinge of jealousy as she helped Marissa prepare for her night out. In public.

Once she ushered Marissa out the door, she sent Ryder a message. His response was immediate, but he had work he needed to finish if they were to keep their date for the following evening. Crestfallen, she uncorked a bottle of wine and plunked herself down on the couch to watch reality TV.

Her cell rang halfway through a depressing teen pregnancy fiasco. She checked the number, fingers crossed that Ryder had somehow managed to plow through his paperwork. It wasn’t him, though, and she didn’t recognize the number. Dread made her hands shake as she answered the call, afraid once again that the message hadn’t penetrated Sean’s titanium skull. That prospect scared the ever-loving crap right out of her.

“Hello?”

“Lee-lee? Is that you?” The static on the line made it difficult to hear, but she knew that voice better than anyone’s. “Mom? What’s up? Whose phone is this?”

“I got a cellular phone!” Static interfered with the rest of her mother’s excited ranting, but from what she could tell, her parents had left California and were on the road, heading for Fullerton. Her last communication with them had been email a couple of days ago, just prior to their return to the States. Her mother had mentioned a plan to come for a holiday visit, but hadn’t provided any details.

“What? The connection’s bad. When will you be here?”

“I really hate these stupid things.” Of course that came through loud and clear, but the shoddy connection cut out the important detail of when they expected to arrive.

Now that Liese had her mother on the phone, she wanted desperately to fill her in on everything that had happened over the last several months—some censored version of the events, anyway. She hadn’t wanted to have a Ryder-related heart-to-heart with her mother over email or Skype, but her opportunity for other methods of communication were limited.

“I’ll try to call . . .” More static filtered through the line, followed by, “. . . Saturday, may—”

The call cut out, and Liese tried the number again, but ended up with voicemail. She settled on sending a text, hoping to get clarification on their arrival date, but all she got back was a bunch of gibberish and a frowny face. She’d have to give her mother a lesson in texting when she arrived. Technology was definitely not her thing.

Her parents’ impending arrival had not been at the top of her priority list the last few days. She looked around the living room at the magazines and random papers lying on every available surface and decided to clean house.

A text came as she disinfected the bathroom, and she dove for the phone. But her excitement was largely squashed when Marissa’s name flashed across her screen. She wasn’t coming home, the message reported, which meant she was probably going to find out what kind of weapon of mass destruction Blake carried below the belt.

Liese sighed and tossed the phone on her bed. At least someone was getting some action tonight. The more she thought about it, the more logical it seemed for either she or Ryder to apply for a position elsewhere. If she had to watch two of her closest friends have a public relationship while she struggled to keep her own covert, she might go ballistic.

Liese finished cleaning up, disappointed that scrubbing her toilet was the highlight of her evening, and went to bed early. But tomorrow night would prove much more exciting.