Where There's a Will

Chapter One

Chapter One

It was the kind of busy day at the library that made me relieved to take a lunch break. Even better was Grayson being there to share it with me. Grayson and I were embarking on a new relationship and still in the process of figuring out exactly what it all meant. One thing it definitely seemed to mean was Grayson coming over to the library at least a few times a week for conversation and lunch together.

He joined me in the sunny breakroom, full of plants, books, and magazines. Fitz, our library cat, was sprawled in a particularly large sunbeam on the floor but leaped up and looked at us with interest as we walked in. Fitz gave every appearance of absolutely adoring Grayson Phillips. He bumped his head lovingly against Grayson’s extended hand and closed his eyes happily as Grayson tickled him gently under his furry chin.

I said, “Whatever food you’ve brought smells amazing. Did you grab takeout from somewhere?” Whitby, however, was such a small town that my mind boggled trying to figure out what place might have produced such a tantalizing aroma.

Grayson grinned at me, his blue eyes crinkling. “Nope. This is actually something I cooked this morning especially for our lunch today.”

“Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. And maybe made me a little envious. My cooking has been pretty pedestrian lately. Okay, it’s always been pedestrian. What have you made?”

He carefully removed two bone china plates from the bag he carried them in and held one out with a flourish. “Pasta with shrimp and tomato cream sauce.”

My stomach growled on cue. “Wow. And you made this today? Before you went to work? How early did you get up this morning?”

Grayson was carefully setting the laminated breakroom table with a cheerful tablecloth, cloth napkins, and silverware. “Oh, I don’t know. Five o’clock? Something like that? It wasn’t a big deal, really—you know how quickly shrimp cooks.”

I figured I probably would if I ever cooked it. My own kitchen adventures seemed to revolve around rice and whatever was leftover in my fridge to go along with it. There was also the fact that I had budget issues that came into play when I made food choices at the grocery store. I loved being a librarian, but I wasn’t exactly becoming King Midas being one. “Well, this is a real treat. Thanks so much.”

He gave me a shy smile and then reached over and hugged me tightly. I hugged back, feeling the muscles in his arms from all his outside activities when he wasn’t at his newspaper job. Then he pulled away. “I warmed up the plates at the office, but they could probably use a few seconds more in the microwave.”

While he was doing that, I poured us both some ice waters from the pitcher in the fridge and gave Fitz another rub.

“No shrimp for you, buddy,” Grayson said regretfully as he glanced over to watch us. “I can see your little nose is really twitching. But I did bring a few cat treats with me.”

“Now you’re spoiling both of us.” I chuckled as I said it, though. I hadn’t been spoiled much in life and it was sort of a nice change of pace.

We delved enthusiastically into the food and it tasted just as good as it smelled. The flavors mingled perfectly together.

“The only thing lacking is a glass of wine,” said Grayson. “But, hey, it’s the middle of the workday.”

“Sadly, I’m probably going to feel like a big nap, even without a midday glass of wine. Once this pasta hits my tummy, I’m going to need to make sure I have a cup of coffee with me for a while.”

“I’ll make some fresh coffee for you,” said Grayson.

I watched him as he dumped out the stale coffee and made a new pot. I felt stronger feelings for him every day, especially as he consistently performed small kindnesses. He turned around, feeling my eyes on him, and gave his quirky smile.

“How are things going with the construction?” He sat back down with me as the coffee percolated and Fitz hopped in his lap, regarding him thoughtfully.

I groaned. The library was undergoing some much-needed renovation work, but it was a very noisy process. The construction noises were annoying the patrons who’d come over to get some studying or work done. Plus, construction vehicles were impacting available parking, too.

“Well, the patrons are cranky and I can’t really blame them. I think the noise has run quite a few of them off. But the library is going to be so much better when the work is done.”

“I bet Fitz isn’t crazy about the construction, either,” said Grayson. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of treats. The cat gave him an affectionate look. I could swear Fitz was smiling.

“You’ve got that right. His tail swishes whenever he hears a drill. Or hammering. Which is pretty much all day. But he really likes the guys who are doing the construction. In fact, they’ve been giving him cat treats and playing with him with one of his cat toys.”

We washed off our empty plates and walked out of the breakroom with Fitz trailing behind us. His ears went back at the sound of the drill and he bounced off to find a patron’s lap or a sunbeam to comfort him as the construction went on.

“Which one is the guy in charge of the work?” asked Grayson in a low voice. “From what you’ve said, he sounds like an interesting person to know.”

I gestured to a distinguished-looking man in his mid-fifties with wavy white hair. “His name is Cornelius Butler. I’ve spent some time talking with him and he’s a really interesting guy. He went to Clemson for engineering, was a project manager for big projects, and he’s now working as a real estate investor and builder. He owns the construction firm that’s doing the work. Like I mentioned before, he’s doing the work pro-bono and so he’s Wilson’s new best friend.”

Wilson was my library director and always had an eye out for the chance to butter up donors or trustees. And Cornelius definitely deserved buttering up. What he was doing was really going to improve the library building—once the construction was finally done. The work entailed everything from carpet installation to new light fixtures, upgraded restrooms to an expanded children’s department that makes better use of the space.

“What’s Cornelius like?” asked Grayson curiously.

I smiled at him. “Are you thinking about doing a profile on him in the newspaper?” Grayson had been running a series of profiles of prominent local citizens in the paper and it had proven a popular feature with folks in the town. And, of course, the featured citizen absolutely loved it.

“Maybe so. He’s certainly worthy of it. And it serves several good purposes when I run one of those articles: it sells papers, helps me get to know an influential resident, and makes the profiled person happy. I haven’t focused on anyone in the construction industry yet, so it makes sense.”

“I can introduce you to him, if you like,” I said. “The library is pretty quiet right now.”

But Cornelius was already taking care of that, himself. He walked over with a twinkle in his eyes and a hand outstretched. “Cornelius Butler,” he said, giving Grayson a firm handshake.

Grayson introduced himself, but before he could say anything else, Cornelius said, “Ah! Our local newspaper editor. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been wanting to email you to congratulate you on the recent series you did on unusual local history.”

Grayson looked as if the pleasure was all his. I had the feeling that he wasn’t used to having his name recognized during an introduction. “Good to meet you, too and thanks for reading the series. I was just speaking with Ann about the project here. This is a fantastic thing you’re doing for the library.”

Cornelius modestly shook his head. “For all the hours of pleasure the library has afforded me over the years, believe me, it’s the very least I can do. But tell me how things are going over at the newspaper. I know it hasn’t been a good time for print.”

This was one of Grayson’s most-favorite subjects, but he managed to refrain from launching into his full spiel, instead saying, “Actually, the paper is doing pretty well . . . probably because it’s one of the few sources of real local information. Of course, we’re not just running printed papers—our digital subscriptions are up, too. Long-term, that might be the best way for the paper to really remain viable because it lowers our overall costs.” He paused and then chuckled. “Sorry—you can tell this is one of my favorite topics.”

But Cornelius didn’t have that glazed look on his face that I’d seen on others’ faces when Grayson started talking publishing. He’d leaned in and seemed to be hanging on his every word. He had a habit of doing this to everyone and seemed to use conversations with people as a way to increase his own knowledge in a variety of different fields. “No, no worries. That’s actually really interesting. I’ve been toying with the idea of doing some advertising and would love to speak with you about that.”

His words were music to Grayson’s ears. “Absolutely. We have an advertising representative that I can get you in touch with.”

“Could I just speak with you instead?” asked Cornelius in the voice of a man who never really had his requests denied.

“Most definitely,” said Grayson. He wouldn’t jeopardize a sale, even if his handling advertising wasn’t totally protocol. “You can call me at any time.”

Cornelius turned his head sharply and looked behind him, squinting at something that was taking place across the room.

“Nate!” he bellowed.

Nate, a tall, lean man about thirty years old with an open face, froze.

“Stop what you’re doing right now!” Cornelius strode across the library. He briefly turned around to say, “Nice to meet you,” to Grayson before immediately addressing whatever horrible thing Nate had done with the construction work. “Nate! Remember: do your best and caulk the rest.”

“Poor guy,” said Grayson, shaking his head. “Looks like he’s really messed something up.”

I made a face and said in a low voice, “It’s always like that. I’m never sure exactly what he’s doing wrong, but he seems to be making a real hash of it, whatever he’s doing.”

Grayson frowned. “A professional guy like that? It’s hard to believe he wouldn’t have the very best people on his team.”

“Oh, believe me, he does. He has a fleet of them. They’re quiet—well, aside from all the construction noise—and totally focused on what they’re doing. It’s been very impressive.”

“So what’s the deal with Nate?” asked Grayson.

“The deal with Nate is that he’s Cornelius’s nephew, apparently.” I gave Grayson a wry smile.

“Ahh. That makes a lot more sense. I’m guessing he’s new to the construction industry?” Grayson started walking to the door and I kept up with him.

“That’s what Cornelius told me. He’s originally from another state but lost his job there and came here to North Carolina to find one. His uncle has taken him on as an apprentice but it wasn’t what he was doing previously. I think it’s been quite an adjustment.”

Grayson winced as Cornelius continued reminding Nate how he’d messed up. “Maybe he needs to think about another line of work. Or maybe he should take a class or something.” He glanced at his watch and said, “Better run. I’ve got someone to interview in a few minutes.”

I reached out and squeezed his hand. “Thanks for lunch.”

He gave me a warm smile and squeezed my hand back. “See you later.”

I walked behind the circulation desk and Fitz pounced up to join me. I rubbed him a few times and spoke to him soothingly as the sound of the drills started up again. A man with black hair and heavy eyebrows that were furrowed in a frown came in. He hesitantly walked into the library, spotted the construction and stopped, uncertainly.

I called out, “Hi there. Can I help you with anything?”

He gave me a startled look and scurried back out of the building.

I was staring after him, frowning, when I heard a teasing voice from my left.

“Scaring patrons away now, Ann?”

I turned and smiled at my coworker, Luna. She was one of those people who always did make you smile . . . usually in a peppy, happy mood that was contagious to be around. She was also cheerful to look at with her Doc Martin shoes, long multi-colored tunic, and purple-streaked hair. “Apparently, I am,” I said dryly.

“It was probably the unholy racket coming from the construction that frightened him away. It sure has unnerved poor Fitz and he’s such a laid-back boy. If I’d come into the library to get some work done or to study then I’d definitely be backing right back out again, too. It’s too loud to even hear yourself think,” said Luna. Then she gave me a knowing smile. “How was lunch with Grayson? Great, as always?”

“Very nice! A little on the noisy side, of course with the drill work going on, but still good. He brought me a shrimp pasta he’d cooked this morning and it was amazing.”

“Of course it was!” Luna rolled her eyes teasingly. “Everything he does is amazing.”

A mother with a little boy in tow walked up to ask Luna if she had any recommendations for good picture books and Luna happily led them to the children’s section, prattling off her favorites as she went.

I worked a bit on a research question a patron had given me yesterday to learn more about a health condition her husband had. After a while, the doors opened again and an older lady timidly came in wearing a fluffy cardigan sweater, her gaze darting around the library. When she spotted Fitz with me, she started to smile.

“Hi, Olivia,” I said gently. She was so hesitant that I felt she needed some encouragement. I knew she loved cats and had quite a few of them at her house. I also knew she was Cornelius Butler’s sister. “Your brother is right over there—did you want to see him?”

Olivia immediately looked alarmed. “Oh no. No, I don’t need to talk with him. I’m just here to love on Fitz and pick up my books.”

Fitz was, as always, happy to be the recipient of some love. He bumped his head against Olivia’s outstretched hand and gazed affectionately at her. She crooned to him. “What a beautiful boy you are! And so good, too. You remind me of my Humphrey Bogart.”

“Is Humphrey an orange and white cat, too?” I asked.

She nodded, eyes twinkling. “He’s one of the best lap cats I have, but don’t tell the others. I just love when I sit and read and he’s curled up in my lap.”

Every time I saw Olivia, I wondered if she’d consider going to one of the library’s book clubs. She was a big reader and seemed to enjoy talking about books with me. And she spent a lot of time . . . too much time? . . . at home with her collection of cats.

“I was thinking you might enjoy our book club, Olivia—the one we host at the library here. We’re about to have a meeting to discuss a book you recommended to me earlier. Arabella.”

Olivia beamed. “Oh, that’s a wonderful book. Georgette Heyer is simply marvelous. Goodness, I must have read that book twenty times.”

“Well, I enjoyed it too after you told me about it. I needed to read some more Regency books and Arabella fit the bill. If you’re interested, just drop in with us.” I gave her the date and time. “After all, you know the book a lot better than we do.”

Olivia hesitated and then smiled. “I’ll see what I can do. I would really like hearing what other people think about the book.” She paused. “Do you have any other recommendations for Regencies? I mean, that some of your patrons have enjoyed?”

I took her back in the stacks to Sherry Lynn Ferguson’s Lord Sidley’s Last Season, which Olivia immediately checked out at the circulation desk.

I was about to take my afternoon break when there was another arrival at the library. I grinned as Connor, Wilson’s nephew and a former classmate and boyfriend of mine, came in. He was cocky as ever in his scrubs, striding up to the circulation desk.

“What brings you here today?” I asked teasingly. “Surely not literature.”

Connor put his hand to his heart. “You wound me, Ann! You know I love to read. I’ve just found that I’m in a particular period of my life where I can’t read as much as I’d like.”

“You’re here to see Wilson, then,” I smiled. “He’s in his office. I’m getting ready to take my break.”

“Well, I’m here to see you, too. I was hoping you could give me some advice.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Lovelorn again, are you?”

“I’ll tell you all about it in the breakroom.”

I rolled my eyes. “So now you’re commandeering my break.”

“Oh, come on, Ann. You know you’re my only friend here in this town. Help a guy out?” His eyes were pleading.

I sighed. “Okay. Just tap on the door and I’ll let you in. I’m guessing you’re wanting to say hi to Wilson first?”

He nodded, looking pleased. “See you in a few.”