She leaned against the back wall and watched, enraptured. When Robbie finished his piece, which had been a recitation of classic nursery rhymes, the room broke into enthusiastic applause and Robbie took several deep bows. When he rose, he glanced across the crowd and his gaze met Lindsey’s.

It was like getting hit with a bolt of lightning. Lindsey felt it all the way down to her shoes. Oh, this was bad. She could not be here, looking at him, feeling this feeling.

She glanced down the wall and saw Ms. Cole at the back of the room, as well as their part-time library assistant Jessica Gallo, who should have been minding the reference desk. She tried to make her voice sound stern and said, “I think we all need to get back to the main library.”

“Yes, you’re right. Sorry,” Jessica said.

Ms. Cole said nothing but merely led the way out of the room. Lindsey followed, and did not look back.

“Isn’t he brilliant?” Jessica gushed. “He had the kids entranced while he performed. It was amazing.”

“Yes, he’s a wonderful actor,” Lindsey said, although she wasn’t sure who she was reminding, Jessica or herself.

Once the others were back at their desks, she returned to her office. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t hiding, but she knew it was a lie.

She had no business being attracted to a man like Robbie Vine. He was married. He had a girlfriend. He was married. He was an actor. He was married. She put her head down on her desk and tried to figure out where her common sense had gone.

A knock on the door made her snap upright.

“Come in,” she said. She began to straighten her already meticulous desk.

The door opened; it was Charlene. Lindsey was disappointed that it wasn’t Robbie, and was annoyed with herself for her reaction. She smiled even brighter at her friend, determined to get her head on straight.

“Charlene,” she said. “What a surprise.”

Being a television news reporter kept Charlene so busy they rarely saw her unless it was for their Thursday crafternoon meetings, and even those she occasionally had to miss.

“Hi, Lindsey.” Charlene came in and shut the door behind her. “Do you have a minute?”

“For you? Always,” Lindsey said. “Sit down.”

Charlene took a seat across from her desk, and Lindsey noticed that her friend’s usually flawless face had small worry lines pinching the corner of her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Lindsey asked.

“I’m worried about my mom,” Charlene said. “This production, the bad press, my father sending that vile reporter here, I think it is too much for her to have to handle.”

“So, you think your father did have a hand in sending Harvey Wargus here?” Lindsey asked.

“I don’t know,” Charlene said. “I’ve been trying to investigate without my father finding out, but so far, no luck.”