“No,” he said. “I saw your picture earlier. Meeting you in person, though...you seem a bit younger than I expected.”

She shifted in her chair. “I assure you, Mr. Donovan—”

“Johnny, please,” he interrupted, with that same wry grin. “Mr. John Donovan was my father.”

Victoria’s mouth snapped shut before she could find her footing. “Forgive me, but I think formalities are good enough for now, Mr. Donovan.”

His broad shoulders gave an easy shrug. “For now.”

Victoria searched for something on her desk to occupy her idle hands. She discreetly grabbed an ink pen and tapped it against her desk calendar. “Right, well, I know this is short notice and I certainly appreciate you getting back to me. I’d like to talk about a possible partnership—”

“I’m listening.”

“—between the Farmingdale Public Library and Pembroke University. As I said in my email, I think it would be an excellent opportunity to unite our two academic institutions.”

“Sure,” John said.

“I’m currently trying to convince my department chair that this program could work. Do you think the library director would be amendable to such a partnership?”

“It depends on what you’re proposing,” he said, the grin returning. His answers were too short for her to tell if he was serious or interested.

“I... I’m hoping that students of our department could benefit from learning about children’s literacy by working with you.” She was growing nervous, which was unusual. Meetings like these tended to work in her favor since she knew her audience. Working with academics was fairly easy; she knew their insecurities and ticks. Victoria didn’t know this man. Her brain, usually alert, was slowly turning into mush as she stared at him.

He gave another shrug. “Sounds great to me. Let’s do it.”

She frowned. “Beg your pardon?”

“Let’s do it.”

No, no, that’s not how it works. There was a certain amount of cajoling she had to do. There were charts and projections, cost benefits, and red-tape. So much red-tape. “But don’t you have to—”

John dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. “I’m the head children’s librarian and I’m supposed to come up with ideas to advance our department. Director Wegman is already happy to work with you.”

“Oh.” He may have been twenty-eight minutes late, but he certainly cut through forty-five minutes of negotiation. Victoria should have been happy that he’d hold up his end. Instead, she was deflated. It didn’t feel like the battle she had prepped for. She was used to committee members who agonized over the wording of a single proposal, until time ran out and other business had to be tabled. “Are you certain?”