Victoria had to admit she’d felt a thrill when he’d written her back almost immediately. When her phone vibrated on her nightstand, she’d smiled in spite of herself. Turn yourself in, Dr. Reese. She chuckled as she pulled her Volvo into the library parking lot. Just as John said, the cars were starting to clear out. Tuesday night would be a quiet work evening. She sat in her car for a few moments, getting her bearings. Still dressed in a black pencil skirt and white button-down shirt, Victoria hoped that she wouldn’t engage in any strenuous manual labor. Based on her observations, many library workers sat behind the desk or pushed a cart of books to the stacks. Surely it wasn’t that hard of a job.

Victoria grabbed her purse before leaving her car and walked to the front entrance. Inside, the building was nearly dead. An elderly man was seated in the periodicals area reading a newspaper and a teenager appeared to be doing homework at the computer stations. There was one older woman manning the checkout counter. Just as she assumed, the woman sat on a barstool reading a novel.

“Excuse me,” Victoria said, making her way to the counter. “I’m here to see John Donovan.”

The woman, whose nametag read “Martha Crane,” set down her book and adjusted her glasses. “What’s that, hon?” she asked in a loud voice. The sound pierced the silence and made Victoria jump.

“I’m looking for John Donovan,” she said, leaning forward and raising her volume just slightly.

Martha frowned and turned her head. “Hon, you’ve got to talk into this side. My hearing aid is acting funny.”

Victoria was used to librarians shushing her; not shouting at her. “I need John Donovan!” she said in a strong voice.

“And you can have him,” said a familiar voice from behind her. “No need to shout...yet.”

“Well there you are,” said the checkout woman. “Right behind you.”

Victoria closed her eyes and willed the ground to open and swallow her whole. She practiced her irritated expression before turning around. When she did face him, Victoria inhaled through her nose. She didn’t know it was possible for him to look more handsome, but here they were. He was indeed more enticing than she remembered. John was dressed in a black Henley shirt and dark blue jeans. The Henley hugged his muscles in all the ways that yesterday’s denim shirt couldn’t. Victoria tore her eyes from his body and found that his face wasn’t too much better. His sandy beard quirked from pursed lips. Oh god, the beard...