Page 22 of Check You Out

“Reading keeps one young,” I reply and follow him into the office, trying to ignore the slightly pedophilic comment.

Ew.

My eyes widen at the stunning view. Floor to ceiling windows overlook downtown Canterbury, which is a little bigger than Summerville but not as charming. The Catoctin Mountains loom in the distance against a backdrop of a crystal-clear blue sky. In the middle of the room is a red oak desk with a laptop and stacked papers. Behind the desk is a black leather chair. He gestures to one of the chairs in front of the desk, and I sit down.

He waves at me. “Now Charlotte, before we continue, I insist you call me Stephen. Come on, you knew me when I had a mullet.”

“I believe I had braces,” I muse. “I promise I won’t share those pictures online.”

“I appreciate it. It took me long enough to scrub every unpleasant photo of me off the internet.” He raps a knuckle against the desk. “Pardon the shabbiness and the dust. I’m hoping to renovate soon, and this office is just, well, it really needs it. My predecessor did not believe in renovating official buildings. Even if they are falling apart”

My gaze travels around the room. It’s neat and tidy, with nary a spot of dust in sight. “Really? This is really nice. Definitely fancier than mine.”

Stephen slams a binder shut, and something tickles my nose. I sneeze.

“Gott bless you. See, I told you about the dust.”

I blink a few moments. Did he just bless me? I shake away the thought and shift in the plush chair in front of his desk.

“So, how are you?” Stephen asks as he sits, unbuttoning his suit jacket.

“Fine.” I tap my hand against my thigh. “I’m busy with my bookstore, but I’m just fine. How are you? Belated congratulations on your election.”

“Why, thank you. I’m doing fantastic. We’re making a real difference for the community. It’s so invigorating to be a mover and shaker,” he says. He gestures to a photo on one of the side tables. “Plus, I’m getting married this fall.”

“Congratulations. That’s exciting.” I plaster on a smile and glance at the photo without studying it. I take a deep breath, steadying myself for the speech I’ve planned. “While I’d love to catch up. I’m here on business. Specifically, the Summerville Public Library.”

His brows lift. “Oh? What about it?”

I tilt my head. Does he not know that he’s going to close it? “Your proposed budget is going to close the library.” I study his face. His expression is open and non-concerned.

“Oh right, I do recall that.” He nods, gesturing for me to continue. “What’s the problem with that? It’s a drain on our resources and doesn’t bring in much revenue.”

My teeth grind as I clench my jaw. “Well, the library is not just a place where people can get books. It’s the heart of our community. It’s a meeting place. A place of education and community. Summerville would suffer, including my bookstore.”

“How would it affect your bookstore?” He asks. “Wouldn’t it benefit you to not have the competition?”

I frown. How many times am I going to have to explain this to people? I give the spiel that I gave Georgie at the Town Meeting. He appears to listen, but every few seconds, his eyes dart towards his computer. He’s not even listening to me.

Asshole.

“I see.” He winces for a few seconds, but the expression doesn’t seem genuine. It looks practiced. “I’m afraid there isn’t anything I can do about it.”

My face falls. “What do you mean? You’re the County Executive. You created the budget? Surely, there’s something you can do.”

“Not after I’ve given the budget to the County Council. I can’t just take it back and redo it. That’s against the Charter Laws.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “But this isn’t because I don’t support your cause or the library. In fact, it’s the opposite. I would love to keep the library open.” He sucks in his lower lip and taps his fingers.

I don’t fail to notice the fact that he switched his viewpoint without a second thought.

He continues, “My hands are tied. I’ve inherited a multi-million-dollar deficit from my predecessor, and I’ve had to make some tough decisions regarding what should and shouldn’t be included in this year’s budget.” He sighs. “It was so hard. I had to reduce the budgets of all the departments, but some of them are more vital than others. People won’t die if I reduce the library system funding.”

“I see,” I say, biting down an argument that many public services aren’t exactly life or death, but they still improve the quality of existence. Instead, I ask, “Is there any way to keep the library open?”

He shakes his head. “Not without reducing the law enforcement budget to the point where we layoff police officers. That would make me incredibly unpopular with the sheriff, and I need her support right now. I already had to cut the education budget by laying off about a dozen teachers, but they’ll find jobs in other counties. We’re also putting off some major roadwork projects in order to afford a bridge replacement.”

“You’ve been making a lot of tough calls,” I say, nodding in understanding. “It makes a lot of sense.”

“Unless you can convince the County Council to reject my budget, I can’t help. Although I’m not sure how you can do that. Two of the council members have been hounding me about the deficit.” Stephen shrugs. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. I really am. I wish there was something I could do, but I can’t.”