Finding Miranda

CHAPTER 8: THE LIBRARY

Annabelle Sherwood tossed her voluminous red curls back over her shoulder with practiced grace and batted her false eyelashes at the man who had greeted her. Sure, old Mr. Brazleton could not see well enough to appreciate the stunning cleavage Annabelle displayed in her low-cut silk blouse, but he was still male and capable of making out her hourglass silhouette. He could smell her costly designer perfume with heavy musk undertones (Annabelle would slather herself with undiluted pheromones if it were possible).

But Annabelle knew her only reward from Mr. Brazleton would be his toothless, admiring grin. He had neither the money nor the working plumbing to take Annabelle out for lunch, much less for an evening—or night—on the town.

Good thing about a small town like Live Oak: Annabelle knew the financial and marital status of every man who entered her library. She knew how to get the most from every one, and she wasted no time on the poor, the puny, the perverted, or the Happily Married.

Miranda Ogilvy, the new librarian, had observed Annabelle in action for only a day and a half, and already Miranda was in awe of (and a little disgusted by) her curvy coworker.

When the marvelous Annabelle crooned greetings at old Mr. Brazleton in her most seductive siren's voice, Miranda was surprised at first. Brazleton was not the type Annabelle usually targeted. Then Annabelle winked at Miranda and returned Brazleton's smile with apparent sincerity. Annabelle was being kind to the lonely octogenarian, in Annabelle's way.

"That was sweet," Miranda told Annabelle when Brazleton doddered out the front door.

"Yeah," Annabelle sighed. Then she shrugged it off. "He's harmless, y'know? Besides, it's been a slow day and I can always benefit from a bit of practice."

"You are a really good person, Annabelle," Miranda said.

"Okay, don't ever let anybody hear you say that. You could ruin my reputation. Shelve these for me?" Annabelle hefted a stack of returned books onto a rolling cart and nudged the cart toward Miranda.

"Of course." Miranda expected nothing else. Why should the swan do grunt work when the ugly duckling was at hand? Besides, even if Miranda stood alongside Annabelle at the check-in counter, patrons would form a line in front of Annabelle and never notice Miranda's existence. Thus, Annabelle spent most of the day on display at the front desk, while Miranda disappeared into the stacks.

....

Outside the library, Pietro wheeled into the parking space closest to the front door. He let the motor and air conditioner run while he turned toward Shepard, who was unbuckling his seat belt.

"I can go in alone," Pietro insisted. "Why deal with the man-eater if you don'ta got to? I can return dese and pick up da ones from the Hold shelf. Gimme you library card." Pietro reached for a bulging floral tote bag resting by Shep's feet.

Shep snatched the bag from Pietro's reach. "I'll check in while you check out. We'll finish in half the time, and we won't be late for work."

"Nnnnooo," Pietro whined. "I don'ta like doin' this. Is not honest. Is denigrate my manhood. Is spoil my image witha da ladies."

"Oh, hush," said Shep and opened the passenger door. "Leave the AC on for Dave. We'll be just a minute, Dave."

From the back seat Dave whuffed and lay down to wait.

Pietro sighed dramatically, then opened the car door. "Show time," he said to himself as he left the driver's seat.

He rounded the hood of the car and joined Shep, who was standing beside the passenger door, holding the conspicuous, flowery tote bag. Pietro held out his left elbow, Shep placed his right hand on his friend's arm, and they walked toward the library steps together.