The Other F-Word (6 page)

Behind Damien, Alan nodded, rubbing his goatee. A habit brought on by his nerves, which I’d provoked. One person’s brave was another’s stupid. I questioned which adjective fit me at the moment.

“The library is not just any place. It’s every place. Where else can you go to learn about everything from astrology to quantum physics? Where can you go to feel the passion of Dickens to the angst of Jane Austen to the pure terror of Stephen King? It is a club where everyone is welcome regardless of their physical appearance, intelligence quotient or income bracket. I don’t know of any greater service to the community than that.”

He stared at me, eyes growing more green than gold. “Intriguing argument, Miss Mason. I’ll take it under consideration.” He emphasised the
Miss
.

“Yes, Emmie, thank you for your input. We should be moving on now,” Alan said.

Exhaling a long breath, I watched them walk away.

“I wasn’t expecting that, Emmalynn.”

“My response?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think my opinions put him off?”

“No, not what you said, dear. I wasn’t expecting your response to him. You’re smitten.”

I turned to Arty, cringing, wondering if everyone had noticed. Had
he
noticed?

“I can’t blame you. His attraction is appealing because it’s timeless.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fads fade, but classic beauty never goes out of style. He’s an excellent example of masculinity the likes of which would push David out of Michelangelo’s favour.”

I suspected Arty was bisexual, although he’d never told me. I detected a hint of jealousy too. I wasn’t sure if it was aimed at me or Damien.

I chuckled. “You forgot young. He’s young.”

Arty propped his chin in his hands, staring at Alan who was explaining our state of the art computers to Damien. They were classic too, but not in a good way.

“I bet he can dance.”

Yes, he can.

I put my arm around Arty. “My dance card’s already full, Fred Astaire.”

Chapter Four

I recovered quite nicely from the shock of seeing Damien Wolfe—I exiled myself to the stacks to organise the shelves. The solace of the dark, windowless room helped calm me. Everyone hated the stacks. They were kind of scary, with the tall shelves and blind corners, but I loved it here. That was why I always volunteered for this job. No one ever came in here, so I could leave my iPod on low, eat my lunch at the small desk in the corner and most of all think. The Red Hot Chili Peppers were singing about
Californication
and I let my mind drift to my work and the music.

“I love the Chili Peppers,” he said.

I hadn’t heard him come in. I was grateful my back was to him so he couldn’t see my eyes go crazy wide, and my jaw fall to the floor.

“Why did you leave so quickly?” he asked, his husky voice now familiar. My spine stiffened. He did remember the other night after all.

“I was in the wrong limo. I wasn’t exactly looking for a conversation with a stranger,” I said, not wanting to turn around. I couldn’t look at that gorgeous face and remain dignified at the same time. Still, his lingering scent drifted towards me as he came closer. It wasn’t just cologne—it was the smell of hot man and belonged entirely to him. A scent I hadn’t sampled in so long I’d almost forgotten how it could make me squirm.

“That’s not what I’m talking about…Jessie.”

Shit—he remembered our dance. I tugged on my scarf, wishing I could cover my face with it.

“You never called me. Hell, you gave me a fake name. No one has ever done that.”

“Keep your voice down, we’re in a library for God’s sake.”

“Are things still complicated for you?” He placed his hand on my shoulder, gently urging me to turn.

I wished I hadn’t told him to keep his voice down—his gravelly whisper was more disorienting than his regular tone.

“Aren’t they always?”

He looked down at the newspaper I’d set on the chair next to my lunch. “You like crossword puzzles?”

I stared at it, blinking my eyes, staring at the paper. “Yes.”

“You must be very good at them.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You do them in pen. That’s confidence and commitment if I ever saw it.” His smile was so boyish and endearing, I struggled not to match it. “Look, let’s start over. Let me satisfy all your cravings with that special four-letter word that begins with F and will leave you completely sated.”

Fuck
.

“Are you kidding me right now? Does your flirting come with an off switch?”

He grinned and shrugged with false innocence. “No, I’m pretty much always turned on by you.”

“I’m not interested in participating in any four letter words that start with F.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Jessie, the word I was referring to was food. What were you thinking?”

Damn him…he knows exactly what I was thinking.

“My name is Emmie,” I snapped, gathering up a pile of books and heading to the far shelf.

He followed. “That’s going to take some getting used to. You see, I’ve been thinking about Jessie for over a year now.”

Those words sank in. He’d been thinking about me too? This was not good. He was too sweet and sexy and…just too much.

I set down the books, straightened my skirt and squared my shoulders. “I’m sorry if I’ve misled you in any way, but the woman you danced with that night is not who I am.”

“I think she is, but if she insists on hiding, then at least let me meet the woman in front of me. Why won’t you go out with me?”

“I’m sure you’re used to getting your way—”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

I sighed in exasperation. “There is an age difference between us.”

He smirked in response. “I hadn’t noticed, but now that you bring it up, I remember you told me you were a cougar. Looks like the ferocious cougar turned into a frightened kitty.”

“It’s amazing how much courage liquids can buy. And let me tell you, I was pretty free spirited that night.”

“Don’t bullshit me. Alcohol is just a cheap, over the counter brand of truth serum. You were that way with me because you wanted to be.” He leaned in closer, bending so his mouth was hovering over my ear. “You know the cougar’s natural predator is a wolf, right?”

I backed away until I felt the wooden shelves against my back. “I think you might need to check out some books about the animal kingdom because I’m pretty sure you’re wrong.”

“We’ll see. I am used to getting my way. I really just want to have dinner with you. We can talk about the fundraiser.”

“Are you insinuating that choosing the library for your charity is contingent upon us having a date?”

He stared at me for a second, his eyes widening at my accusation. I flinched, prepared for his anger, but his voice came out steady and calm. “Of course not. One has nothing to do with the other.”

“Then the answer is still no.”

“All right. The library is the charity I’m going with. Now we don’t have that hanging over our heads.”

“The answer is still no.”

“I’m not asking you out anymore. Just listen.” He waited for me to respond so I nodded. “I want you to plan the party. Who better to plan it than the one person who convinced me of the service you do?”

It was my turn to laugh. It was cynical, high-pitched and bitter as it escaped my lips. “I’m a librarian not a party planner, Mr Wolfe.”

“It’s Damien, and didn’t you just finish telling me you can learn anything in the library from astronomy to quantum physics? I’m sure you have some texts about party planning here.”

Damn…the man was making me eat my own words.

“I can agree to those terms,” I said, crossing my arms so tightly I could feel my shirt stretch. What he offered would save us from becoming another empty structure without any more stories to tell. I wanted my grandchildren to experience the magic of this old brick building.

“Excellent. So we’ll meet for lunch in three days.”

What?

He pulled out his wallet. I took another step back from him. He took out a business card and handed it to me. “I assume you lost my number, so here it is again. My private cell is on the back.”

I flipped it, noticing he’d scrawled it in hand. It said—
Jessie, don’t lose this one
.

Wow, cocky much?

“I’m sure we can email each other, or you have an assistant I can report to. It seems highly unusual for such a busy man to be concerned with details.”

“My business thrives because I care about the details. You’ll come to find out that I’m very hands-on.”

I glanced at his large hands with their long fingers, remembering how they’d felt against my skin. The memory fuelled a teasing tingle through my body. I tried to recover by shifting my gaze to the floor.

“You pick the restaurant and text me.”

“Fine.” I crushed his card in my suddenly sweaty hand.

“It’s a date then,” he said, walking out.

“A business meeting,” I replied, but the door closed, trapping my words in the room with me. How did he do that? No wonder he usually got his way.

Chapter Five

I wore a black, pinstriped skirt just above the knees and an amethyst-coloured V-neck sweater—cute, but conservative. The black beret and silver charm bracelet with all my daughters’ birthstones made it funky and the matching purple boots pulled it together. I loved a good accessory. My outfit conveyed a perfect balance of fashionable, fun and feisty. Why was I dressing up for this? I didn’t know, except I didn’t want Damien Wolfe to associate me with words like frumpy.

Even in this outfit, which I’d planned for three days now, I was nervous as a gaggle of geese flying next to an aircraft carrier. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to date him. I sure as hell did, but what would people say about us? I hadn’t dated in over a decade. Had the rules changed? What about sex? He would want it right away, and I wasn’t ready for that. I didn’t care to be a notch on what was sure to be a sizeable bed post. No…I had no intention of being a toy in Damien Wolfe’s sandbox. I stuffed the ridiculous thought away, waiting for him in the retro diner where Jackson Pollock prints shared the same walls with portraits of Dr Martin Luther King Jr, Gandhi and John Lennon.

It was ludicrous. A woman who’d had three children by three different men scared of sex? There was a time a man just had to cough on me and I’d turn up pregnant. That was a long time ago and I was a different person now. Marley’s father had been a horrible moment of weakness in my youth—he’d been a horrible human being in general. Stevie’s father was a one-night stand—we were never compatible. Then there was Billie’s father, Peter. The only man I’d ever loved. The only one I’d married. It wasn’t meant to be. A woman can forgive a great many things, but some she can’t forget. Still, every mistake and accident had given me a beautiful child just the same, and that I would never regret.

“I’m surprised by your choice,” he said, slipping into the red art-deco chair across from me. He wore faded jeans today, and a simple black polo shirt. The man managed to look hot in anything.

I wondered what he would look like in nothing. I used the menu to cover my face to hide my leering. “You’re late.”

“I’m sorry about that. The traffic was horrible.”

“It’s okay, except that this is my lunch hour, Mr Wolfe, so I’d appreciate a phone call next time.”

“Would you like me to call Alan? I’m sure he’d understand.”

Yes, he would. In fact, he’d told me to take as long as I wanted, and make sure Damien Wolfe was happy with my suggestions.

“No, it’s fine.”

“This place is kind of beatnik.”

“That term died out in the fifties.”

“Okay, how about I describe it as a hippy joint?”

“Sixties.”

“Then I’d say bohemian.”

“And I’d say seventies.”

He was quiet for a moment. “What’s the right word for the eighties?”

I swallowed. “Me. We didn’t have a term because there was so little to protest so all we did was indulge and have fun. Perhaps a little too much.”

“Do you come here a lot?”

“All the time.”

“Then I take it you already know what’s on the menu,” he said, pulling it away from me. “I would like to look at you.”

“Why?”

“It’s a beautiful view.”

I took a deep breath, hoping my face didn’t match the tomatoes on the menu. “You shouldn’t say things like that. A woman might get the wrong idea.”

He shrugged. “I say what I feel. Life’s too short to hold back.”

I didn’t know how to respond. It didn’t matter though because he wasn’t expecting a reply.

“Let’s stop trying to define things. This isn’t a history lesson. Just tell me why you picked this place. I’ve never even eaten at a vegan café.”

“I’m a vegan. There are so few four-letter words that start with F that can satisfy me, I thought this was a good alternative. Do you mind?”

He chuckled at my joke. For some inexplicable reason, it put me at ease. “No, I’m sure I can manage. Is that why you won’t date me? Are you just into vegans? Are you a Carna-phobe?”

“You don’t give up.”

“I wouldn’t be successful if I did.”

“Actually, I don’t care. It’s just a personal choice I made a long time ago. My girls aren’t vegans either.”

“You have kids?”

Of course, he didn’t know I had kids. Despite how easy he was to converse with, we were strangers.

“Yes, three girls and I’ve sort of adopted three boys too.”

He quirked his eyebrows.

“It was a symbolic adoption. They are part of my family.”

“That’s a lot of kids. Are you trying to make your own basketball team or something?”

I giggled. “Hardly.”

“Are you trying to scare me away then?” Damien’s intuition frightened me, because I hadn’t even realised I was doing exactly that until he said it.

“I’m just sharing my truth with you.”

“I can respect that. And just so you know, I don’t scare easily. So tell me about them. What grades are they in? Do they play any sports in school?”

I almost choked on my ice tea. “My kids are close to your age. I’m actually a grandmother.” The look of shock on his face was priceless.