Page 21 of Hottie on Her Shelf
Geez. “Not, um, officially.” But there ought to be a rule about even mentioning lingerie if there was an age gap of more than, oh, ten years between you and your conversational partner. Felicia had to be sixty.
Hands splayed on the thickly lacquered desk, Felicia leaned forward. There was a fierce glint in her eyes that exactly matched her nephew’s. “You were the best candidate for this job. Where you come from doesn’t make a whit of difference. Don’t you ever think otherwise.”
Hallie knew it, deep in her bones. It was why she’d fought so hard for it. It was why she’d accepted Felicia’s help back then.
This run for mayor, however, was a different situation. “I feel very supported by you, but that’s all there can be. I need to do this all by myself.” She hugged the nearest stack of musty books. “Knowledge is power, and knowledge is my stock in trade. I’ve got this.”
The older woman steepled her hands and then tapped them against her lips. “My dear, I don’t believe that for a minute. I can’t wait for the day you prove me wrong, though.”
…
Guilt was something that couldn’t be cleared up with antacids. Fitz knew the churn in his belly wasn’t from the French toast, and that it wouldn’t go away until he made things right with Hallie.
He’d been stuck at the golf club for a solid hour after Hallie escaped the dais. Everyone wanted to shake his hand, congratulate him on the slam dunk of a campaign kickoff.
Every slap on the back increased his discomfort.
What had happened wasn’t fair. More importantly, it wasn’t right. Fitz didn’t want people to vote for him solely on the merits of his last name. He also didn’t want people voting against Hallie out of spite or bias or bigotry. That wasn’t winning.
Fitz had stewed on it in his office for the whopping total of five hours until guilt had driven him out of city hall…and straight to the library.
After not finding her behind the checkout desk, Fitz started searching the stacks for the librarian. Maybe he should drop a book to see if the noise would get her to come running? But then he saw her, head bowed and propped on raised fists. Towering stacks of books hemmed her in, with piles of newspapers on the floor.
It was one of those moments where Fitz knew he’d take heat for interrupting. Clearly, something was wrong. It was just as clear that Hallie and he weren’t exactly on “sharing” terms when it came to emotions. Especially not when he was probably the cause—if indirect—of her bad mood.
But he had to make this right. Now. Or at least before attempting to eat dinner.
So, he took two beats to catalog how pretty her thick hair was, curtained around her face. To notice the always-sexy nape of neck just barely revealed. Then another beat to ask himself what the hell he was doing, running down her sexy traits. It’d been a mistake to come so close to kissing her. And he sure as hell wouldn’t let it happen again.
Fitz mouthed it silently, to drive it home.
When he couldn’t think of any more ways to stall, he took a breath. “Got anything good to read in here?”
Lame. Lamest of lame. He’d had better game than that before he’d even sprouted whiskers.
But, hell, Fitz didn’t know what to say or do around Hallie. She seemed dead set on them being enemies. He didn’t know enough about her to dislike her, let alone brand her an enemy.
What little he did know—aside from when she was calling him out for not doing enough as mayor—he liked. To Fitz, opinionated was good. Interesting. Way easier to talk to than someone who simply agreed with everything.
Hallie also came off as driven. Responsible. Passionate. Close with a group of friends. All pluses. And he was supposed to hate her just because she was running against him?
First of all, that was just bad fucking sportsmanship.
Second…well…the harsh reality was that it was unlikely that she’d even make a dent in his numbers.
Third? Fitz didn’t so much care who won the election—not that he could admit it. That would be a slap in the metaphorical face to the legacy of a long line of Montgomerys.
Even though he’d neverwanted to be mayor…
Meanwhile, her head had jerked up at his words. “Are you trying to be funny? Or is this really your inaugural trip inside a library?”
Ah. She was one of the many who assumed he’d used his trust fund and legacy status to buy a degree. Probably didn’t even know about his master’s, not that Fitz trotted it out frequently in conversation. Having knowledge was enough. No need to convince everyone else that you had it.
But clearly the librarian needed to see his credentials. “Not by a long shot. I’ll have you know I used to work in a library. At my alma mater.”
“Really?” Cynicism spiked off both syllables. And her eyes, the color of his favorite Blanton’s bourbon, narrowed.
Who would lie about that? “Yeah. Gotta pay for all those late-night pizza runs somehow.”
