posting
those on Facebook or Twitter, or anything like that, are you?”
“God, no. I don’t want whoever’s responsible for
this to have the satisfaction of seeing their handiwork spread out all over
social media.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Zach stayed close beside her as they continued
through the library. He provided her with his support and opinions, lending a
hand to lead her around damp spots and assorted rubbish. In return, Harper
quizzed him about the previous and current maintenance of the building as well
as names of businesses and individuals who would be helpful in the renovations.
As bummed as she was by the condition of the
library, her natural optimism began to poke up its head by the time they called
it quits. Her mind raced with ideas for the restoration as they returned to the
main entrance. She’d always known she had a big job ahead of her. She just
hadn’t known how big.
Andrew had intended to gut most of the place
anyway. However, Harper’s inner cheapskate and love of authenticity had wanted
to re-use as many of the existing materials as possible and keep the decor
rooted to its past. This new turn of events would make it more practical for
her to do it his way.
Locking the door behind them, Zach wiped a smudge
from her cheek with his thumb. Her cheeks heated when he put his hand on the
small of her back to escort her down the stairs. “You’ve had a long day.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but her stomach
chose that second to growl. Loudly. Harper chuckled, but Zach smacked himself
on the forehead and groaned.
“Jeez, I forgot. You told me you were hungry, and
I dragged you all over this decaying mausoleum instead of feeding you. Dinner’s
in order for both of us since breakfast was the last meal I had, too. The local
cuisine doesn’t offer a lot of variety. There’s no Spiaggia here, but...”
“Spiaggia’s not necessary.” Harper grimaced at
mention of the fancy restaurant in Chicago that was so pricey it was only for
very special occasions. Blaine had proposed to her in its tiered dining room,
so that was an automatic strike against it. “Anywhere will be fine. It would be
foolish to say I’m not hungry after my stomach just said differently.”
“What do you like?”
“Almost anything, except—”
“Just a second.” Holding up one hand to silence her,
he dug his phone out of his pocket with the other. Then he glanced at the small
screen before answering briskly, “Dr. Novak... How bad?... How many?...
When?... I’ll be right there.” He shut off the phone with a pained expression.
Even though he still stood squarely in front of her, his thoughts had left her
far behind. “Seems like I keep having to apologize. I’m sorry about dinner—” He
strode down the rest of steps, and she hurried to keep up with him. “—but there
was a wreck out on Slaughter’s Bend. A couple of kids are banged up pretty bad.
I have to get to the hospital.”
To help her keep pace, he cupped her elbow in his
hand, heading her back toward his sister’s house. She dug in her heels. “You go
on. I’ll be fine, just point me in the right direction for food.”
He stopped and looked at her, clearly anxious to
be off. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Food. Right. Okay. One block north
and turn left. Anything that’s open will be that way. There’s a pizza place, a
taco stand, a diner. It’s Sunday night, so...” His words trailed off, and she
imagined that most places closed early on Sunday. Like the gas station.
She’d be content to pick up some things at the
grocery. “Is there a Trader Joe’s or a Whole Foods?”
His headshake reminded her of her outsider status.
“In Springfield maybe, not—”
“—not in Sunnyside,” she finished for him.
“Right.” Life in a small town. This is what it would be like if Carrie Bradshaw
moved to Grover’s Corner. Her choices were limited. But after the day she’d had
and on the brink of starvation, she’d forgotten
those on Facebook or Twitter, or anything like that, are you?”
“God, no. I don’t want whoever’s responsible for
this to have the satisfaction of seeing their handiwork spread out all over
social media.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Zach stayed close beside her as they continued
through the library. He provided her with his support and opinions, lending a
hand to lead her around damp spots and assorted rubbish. In return, Harper
quizzed him about the previous and current maintenance of the building as well
as names of businesses and individuals who would be helpful in the renovations.
As bummed as she was by the condition of the
library, her natural optimism began to poke up its head by the time they called
it quits. Her mind raced with ideas for the restoration as they returned to the
main entrance. She’d always known she had a big job ahead of her. She just
hadn’t known how big.
Andrew had intended to gut most of the place
anyway. However, Harper’s inner cheapskate and love of authenticity had wanted
to re-use as many of the existing materials as possible and keep the decor
rooted to its past. This new turn of events would make it more practical for
her to do it his way.
Locking the door behind them, Zach wiped a smudge
from her cheek with his thumb. Her cheeks heated when he put his hand on the
small of her back to escort her down the stairs. “You’ve had a long day.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but her stomach
chose that second to growl. Loudly. Harper chuckled, but Zach smacked himself
on the forehead and groaned.
“Jeez, I forgot. You told me you were hungry, and
I dragged you all over this decaying mausoleum instead of feeding you. Dinner’s
in order for both of us since breakfast was the last meal I had, too. The local
cuisine doesn’t offer a lot of variety. There’s no Spiaggia here, but...”
“Spiaggia’s not necessary.” Harper grimaced at
mention of the fancy restaurant in Chicago that was so pricey it was only for
very special occasions. Blaine had proposed to her in its tiered dining room,
so that was an automatic strike against it. “Anywhere will be fine. It would be
foolish to say I’m not hungry after my stomach just said differently.”
“What do you like?”
“Almost anything, except—”
“Just a second.” Holding up one hand to silence her,
he dug his phone out of his pocket with the other. Then he glanced at the small
screen before answering briskly, “Dr. Novak... How bad?... How many?...
When?... I’ll be right there.” He shut off the phone with a pained expression.
Even though he still stood squarely in front of her, his thoughts had left her
far behind. “Seems like I keep having to apologize. I’m sorry about dinner—” He
strode down the rest of steps, and she hurried to keep up with him. “—but there
was a wreck out on Slaughter’s Bend. A couple of kids are banged up pretty bad.
I have to get to the hospital.”
To help her keep pace, he cupped her elbow in his
hand, heading her back toward his sister’s house. She dug in her heels. “You go
on. I’ll be fine, just point me in the right direction for food.”
He stopped and looked at her, clearly anxious to
be off. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Food. Right. Okay. One block north
and turn left. Anything that’s open will be that way. There’s a pizza place, a
taco stand, a diner. It’s Sunday night, so...” His words trailed off, and she
imagined that most places closed early on Sunday. Like the gas station.
She’d be content to pick up some things at the
grocery. “Is there a Trader Joe’s or a Whole Foods?”
His headshake reminded her of her outsider status.
“In Springfield maybe, not—”
“—not in Sunnyside,” she finished for him.
“Right.” Life in a small town. This is what it would be like if Carrie Bradshaw
moved to Grover’s Corner. Her choices were limited. But after the day she’d had
and on the brink of starvation, she’d forgotten
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