“I’m happy to help.” And he was. Not only was it helping out a friend, it was something new. A distraction. God knows knows he needed one of those.
Chaos was okay. As long as it could be controlled.
“Are you able to make it to the faculty meeting this afternoon?”
“Yes, I have it on my calendar.”
“Great, I’ll see you then.” President Harlow rose from his chair and walked him to the door.
Maxwell paused.
“Speaking of faculty, who was that in here earlier? I haven’t seen her before.”
“Oh…um…” Harlow’s eyes wandered as he searched for the name. “Talia King. She’s taking over the library’s Special Collections Room.” Harlow paused with his hand on the knob.
He turned his face to Maxwell and wrinkled it into a frown.
“Don’t even think about it. You are not the kind of chaos she needs in her life.”
“How do you know what she needs?”
Harlow narrowed his eyes at Maxwell, shot him a stern look, and opened the door.
“Okay, okay….” Maxwell lifted his hands helplessly into the air, then secured the buttons of his blazer to hide the tea stain the best he could. Talia King didn’t look like chaos to him. She looked sweet as a Georgia peach. Which was the kind of fruit a guy like him should leave on the tree.
Chapter 3
Talia
It was a lot for one day—a meeting with the president and her first official faculty meeting. The job itself was familiar. Being surrounded by books was her element, her happy place. Which is why she’d interned there. Well, that and needing every penny she could earn. Now that she was official, she had some pennies to burn for the first time ever. It felt good.
Filing into a stadium-style auditorium full of faculty that had been her professors instead of peers just a few weeks ago was daunting, to say the least. And she was all alone. Mrs. McTavish couldn’t leave the library unsupervised and had insisted Talia attend her first meeting. It wasn’t mandatory, and the library simply couldn’t close. Talia agreed, determined to join the ranks of her colleagues, one uncomfortable step at a time. When she saw a familiar face in the crowd that looked as lost as she felt, a wave of relief washed over her.
“Emily?” she said, her voice wavering more than she wished it would. Clearing her throat, she said it again, more clearly, more coworker-ish this time. “Emily.”
The woman’s head turned in her direction, and recognition sparked in her smile.
“Talia! I’m so glad you’re here. I was supposed to sit with a coworker, but I can’t find her.” Emily peered into the dimly lit seating area, which was total crap. The bright lights illuminated the stage where President Harlow and a few others milled around. The lights cast the rest of the auditorium into shadows, where everyone stumbled through the rows of seats trying not to trip over bag straps and feet. Finding anyone was dumb luck in the darkness.
“Let’s grab a seat,” Talia offered, pointing to an empty section near the back. She wasn’t a back-row kind of girl, but given the circumstances, it seemed safest.
“I hope Tamara isn’t looking for me,” Emily worried, but followed along as Talia made her way to the top.
“We can keep an eye out for her from up here,” she said, looking over her shoulder while she walked, even though she didn’t have a clue who Tamara was. Still, she wanted to be helpful.
Talia did recognize one face. And nearly tripped over her own feet when the memory flew at her. He sat in the front row where the lighting was decent. Watching her progress up the steps. The same half-smile on his face, entertained by her in an inexplicable way. When their eyes met, he nodded a hello and quickly turned away.
Was his shirt still stained with Earl Grey? The thought was instantaneous and not at all unwelcome, even if a bit unsettling. She didn’t even know his name. But she knew what it felt like to be pressed so close, consumed by the faint pheromones wafting off his body.
And if she didn’t stop thinking about it, she’d be on the floor for sure this time.
“Is this good?” Talia turned to check with Emily, who nodded. “How has your first week been?”
Emily rolled her eyes in an exaggerated way. “Certainly not as described in orientation.” She let out a heavy sigh. “You are so lucky not to have students.”
“You are so lucky to have attended undergrad in a different state. I’ve had two old professors ask if I was in their class this semester. And about a hundred students ask me when the librarian would be back.”
“Eesh. At least they aren’t fact-checking you with Professor Wikipedia while you try to teach.”
Talia giggled, and it felt good. Emily was about her age, going through the same thing. A giggle wasn’t unprofessional with her. It was understood.
“First-week jitters, I guess. We’ll get through it. Are you free to grab a cup of tea sometime? I love my coworkers, but they’ve been around forever and can’t exactly relate to my struggles.”
“I would love to. The struggle is real. Some of my students are older than me. It’s weird to teach with that age gap.”
Nodding her agreement, Talia’s attention and gaze slowly wandered. Back to the front row, where he sat, reading and occasionally looking up to greet people filing past. He chanced a glance further back. Maybe looking for her? No, surely not. Why would he be? She’d made a total fool of herself in Lorena’s office.
Emily followed her, glancing over the crowd. When a woman approached the guy in the front row, he stood. They embraced, then he quickly pulled away, leaving the woman’s arms draped over his shoulders for a second longer than they probably should have been. It was a split second, but enough to cause Talia to rise in her seat for a better look. There was unmistakable chemistry between the two.
“Oh, there she is.” Emily stood and waved both hands in the direction of the woman—the inappropriate hugger. “Ohh….” Emily’s knowing response lingered and died slowly in her throat. “I don’t think Tamara will be joining us after all.”
“Tamara?” Talia asked, trying to determine if they were looking at the same woman. Back and forth, her eyes darted between Emily and the huggy woman. Yep. Same. “Who’s Tamara?”
“The coworker I was supposed to sit with. Who also happens to be infatuated with Maxwell Radclyffe. Or…I guess maybe just a part of him.” Emily’s eyes rolled to the ceiling and she snickered. “Not that I blame a girl. He’s majorly hot-for-teacher material. And much more fun to sit beside than me.” Emily pointed to the front row where Tamara had made herself at home, right beside him. A cold chill rushed through Talia. The pieces came too fast.