Taking the Heat

“So what did you think of your first day?” Lauren asked.

“The library is great. You’ve made efficient use of the space, but it’s still welcoming. It’s amazing to be working in a small community library again.”

Lauren smiled. “It’s a big change from the main branch of the Cincinnati Public Library, I’m sure.”

“It’ll be a relief not to be in touch with social services for a while. You wouldn’t believe how often we had to try to find help for people using the library as a shelter.”

“Just because this is a small town doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen here.”

“Right,” he corrected himself. “Of course.”

“Not on a daily basis, though.” She watched him for a moment. “How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Thirty-one.”

“That’s a relief. I was afraid that beard was hiding a baby face. Did you concentrate on digital lending in Cincinnati?”

“I didn’t spearhead it there, but I worked on it from planning through implementation. Have you guys been looking at it long?”

She shrugged. “We’ve talked about it. We checked it out last year, but we really needed to invest in our Spanish-language section. And personally, I think an e-reader is cost prohibitive for the members of the community who need the library most.”

“I know exactly what you mean, but you have to keep in mind that a huge percentage of the community has at least a smartphone, and these—”

“Hold on,” Lauren interrupted, and Gabe worried that he’d misstepped, already talking up his plans on the first day, but then he realized she was pulling a phone from her pocket. “Hey, Jake,” she said, covering her other ear as she stood. “Just a second. I can’t hear anything in here.”

She’d taken only one step away when Gabe heard her name being called. Lauren kept moving toward the door, a hand still pressed to her free ear. Gabe looked toward the sound of a woman calling out “Lauren!” one more time.

It was Veronica Chandler, standing in the opening of a hallway that he assumed led to the bathrooms and the office of the bar. She stood up on tiptoe and waved toward Lauren, then lowered herself again, her face falling from hope to disappointment.

Her blond hair still looked the same, some sort of angled, stylish cut that would look at home in any big city, but her face looked younger without the sunglasses. In fact, Gabe was a little surprised at how young she looked. He’d placed Lauren somewhere around forty, but Veronica looked more like twenty now that he could see her wide blue eyes and round cheeks. She bit her lip and her worried gaze swept the room as if she were lost.

Shit. Gabe glanced toward the door, but Lauren was nowhere to be seen. Veronica crossed her arms and stared at the door as if her only hope had disappeared. Gabe excused himself from the table and wound his way through the crowd.

She was still frowning toward the doorway and didn’t notice him until he stopped in front of her. “Jesus!” she gasped, slapping a hand to her chest.

“Sorry,” Gabe said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Lauren got a phone call. She should be back any second.”

“Oh. Okay.” She crossed her arms again and stepped farther back into the hallway, then raised a thumb to her mouth to chew at the nail. He noticed that despite her smoky eye makeup and glossy lips, her nails were bare and cut short.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he asked.

When she finally gave up her vigil and looked right at him, Gabe was a little shocked by the vivid blue of her eyes. But he was the only one who felt that jolt, apparently, because her frown was decidedly suspicious.

“I’m Gabe,” he offered. “We met today at the library.”

“I remember,” she said.

“Is something wrong?” Gabe asked. “Do you want me to grab Lauren for you? She’s probably right outside.”

She sighed and shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I just need a drink, and I was hoping not to mingle.” She waved toward the bar, and Gabe winced at the casual gesture. She really was a bit of a diva. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a gentleman.

“I’m happy to grab something for you. What do you drink?”

He expected a complicated order, but she shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a cosmo, I guess?”

It came out as a question, but he nodded. “A cosmo. You got it. I’ll be right back.”

“Could you bring it to the office? I have to go through these questions. And I really need a drink.”

He headed toward the bar, deciding he’d need a drink to get through this evening, too. Just as he got the bartender’s attention and ordered a beer and a cosmo, a loud, friendly voice rang out over the PA system.

“Hello, locals!” the warm voice called.

He turned and was shocked to see that it was Veronica, holding a microphone, her arm draped over the big blue vase.

“I’m Dear Veronica, in the flesh!”

The crowd cheered and hooted as she laughed. Her face looked transformed again. Neither cool and haughty nor young and uncertain, her round face now held a friendly, open warmth and a wide smile.

She waved at the whole crowd. “It’s great to finally meet you in person!”

That was a lie. She hadn’t even wanted to step out of the hallway. Gabe shook his head and turned back to pay the bartender.

“I hope everyone has their questions in,” she continued, “because I’m ready to judge all of you.”

A moan swept through the crowd, and she laughed over it. “That was only a joke. I’m here to help, of course. So I’m going to steal all of your secrets...” Gabe glanced over his shoulder to see her scoop up the vase. A young woman darted up and dropped one last piece of paper in.

“Ooooh!” Veronica called. “You look like trouble!”

The whole place clapped as the laughing woman’s face went scarlet.

“Okay,” Veronica continued, “I’ll be back to answer your most burning questions in a few minutes. In the meantime, I’m told the martini of the night is called Your Favorite Mistake, which is about as appropriate as it gets, so drink up!”

A cheer went up as she waved again before disappearing into the hallway. Gabe sighed and collected the drinks to follow her.

By the time he’d picked his way through the crowded room, the hallway was empty. He passed two bathrooms and a door to the kitchen before he came upon a closed door marked Employees Only. Holding the beer between his elbow and his chest, he managed the knob and the door swung open.

He’d expected to find that crowd-pleasing Veronica again, but the woman seated at the desk before a pile of folded notes was pale and chewing on her lip.

“Thank God,” she said when she looked up and saw him. Actually, she wasn’t looking at him but at the drink. Both her hands reached out for the cosmo, and they were trembling.

“Hey,” he said when pink liquid dribbled over the rim and hit the desk. “Are you okay?”

“I saw my boss out there,” she muttered, then sucked in a deep breath. She took a sip of the drink and closed her eyes. “I’m better now, thanks.”

Was she an alcoholic? Had she just been jonesing for a drink? But no...she shuddered slightly as she took another sip. “God, that’s strong.”

“Do you want my beer instead?”

She grimaced at the beer. “No, but thank you.”

After one more sip of her pink drink, she put both hands flat on the desk and blew air through her pursed lips. The notes trembled and shook. She breathed deeply in, then nodded. “Okay, I’ll be fine now. Thank you very much.”

“No problem,” he said. “I’ll see you out there. Break a leg.”

She laughed, that big smile returning for a brief moment before it went crooked and uncertain. “Right. Break a leg. I’ll try, I guess. Oh, I should pay you back!”

Her hand swung around and hit the martini glass with an alarming chime, but she scrambled and managed to save the glass before it tipped. “Oh, thank God,” she gasped, “That would have been a tragedy.”

“Not an insurmountable one. I promise I’d have gotten you another.”

She laughed again, her round cheeks going pink. “You’re really sweet. Thanks for helping me out.”

Gabe was surprised to feel his own face going slightly warm. “No problem.” He backed out and closed the door, leaving this odd woman to her work. He knew less about her after their second interaction than he had after their first, but one thing was certain. She was high maintenance as hell. A drama queen, maybe. Or just high-strung. Whatever she was, he was staying far away from it.

His phone buzzed as he reached the end of the hall and Gabe took it from his pocket, smiling when he saw his sister’s name pop up in a text box. Another high-maintenance woman, but one he couldn’t bear to keep at a distance: his middle sister, Naomi.

How was your first day? she asked.

Good. I’m out with the other librarians right now.

She texted a big smiley face. Girls’ night???

Something like that, he responded. Are you back home?

Yes, Paris was a blast, but now Mom’s trying to feed me, and Dad’s just...disappointed.

Yeah, Gabe was disappointed, too. But he was hopeful that once his sister got through a few more years of international modeling, she’d be ready to settle down and take over the family business. Then again, he’d been telling himself that for more than ten years. Unfortunately, Naomi had turned out to be one of those rare models who was even more popular in her thirties than she had been in her teens.

And their older sister? Yeah, she was an even bigger disappointment to their father.

It was all up to Gabe now.

Gabe shook his head and texted back.

Just eat one burger and make them both happy.

I tried that last time. It didn’t get them off my back, and I had to run ten extra miles on the treadmill.

Tragedy! he responded, then added a crying face to the text.

Kiss my ass, little brother.

Love you, too, he sent before he tucked the phone back into his pocket. One hour of this Dear Veronica nonsense, and then he could head over to his new place, ignore family and work obligations, and get on with his new life.

* * *

VERONICA COULDN’T FEEL her own hands and she couldn’t quite hear what she was saying. It wasn’t the martini affecting her, unfortunately; it was pure, unadulterated terror.

Despite the numbness, her hands were still holding the letters she’d chosen to read, and the crowd was still clapping and smiling. She couldn’t remember much of the past forty-five minutes, but maybe it was going fine. She might even be doing a good job, but she had a feeling the crowd approval had more to do with the alcohol. Not that she minded.

“And now, our sixth and final Dear Veronica letter,” she said into the microphone, lowering her voice a little to bring down the noise level in the bar. It worked. The roar subsided.

She drank the last of her now-warm cosmo and took a deep breath. “‘Dear Veronica, I feel like I’m a pretty good catch. I’m young, relatively pretty, educated and fun loving. Men ask me out. I wouldn’t say I have any problem getting a date, and my standards are reasonably high. I expect a potential mate to be employed and funny and hot as hell—’”

“That’s you, Steve!” someone yelled out, causing howls to erupt.

Veronica smiled and pointed in the direction of the noise. “Find me later, Steve.” She waited for the laughter to quiet, then continued. “‘So why do I always end up being the booty call? Why am I never the girlfriend? It makes me feel like I’m not good enough. Don’t get me wrong—I love sex, but I’d like more than that, and the last three guys I’ve dated have all ended up being casual.’ It’s signed That Girl.”

Veronica looked out over crowd. “Now...this letter might mean something to a lot of you.”

There were moans of agreement.

“Let me start with this. There’s nothing wrong with a booty call.” Veronica laughed at the ruckus that caused, then shook her head and moved on. “Sex is fun. Sex is good. Booty-call your way through life if that makes you happy. But apparently, it’s not making you happy, That Girl, so you need to figure out why you’re willingly participating in this unfulfilling little dance.

“I notice that you referred to yourself as ‘relatively pretty’ and then referred to your dates as ‘hot as hell,’ which makes me think you could be flattered by their attention. Let’s be really honest here—there is nothing flattering about someone wanting to bone you.”

She paused to let the crowd react, and a server sneaked over to hand her another martini. “Oh, thank you!” Veronica whispered, surprised and relieved. Her mouth was drying out and her hands were sweating. She gratefully took a gulp, then turned back to the audience. “I hear some disagreement, but let me be clear. There are men out there who will put their penises in a tree. There are men out there who will put their penises in sheep. You do not need to feel flattered that a man wants to put his penis inside you.

“And as for women...think of all the slimeballs out there you see taking women home every single night. Those women are happy to sleep with a slimeball, so, men, don’t be honored that they’ll sleep with you, too. Sex is not flattery! It’s one of our basic animal needs and people will do a lot of nasty shit to get it.”

“She’s talking about you again, Steve!” a man shouted.

“Okay, Steve,” Veronica said, “don’t find me later.” She winked in his direction. “But for this letter writer... You describe yourself as ‘fun loving’ and I’m afraid proving that you’re down for casual sex is part of proving just how fun you are.” She paused to let that sink in and registered a couple of women who looked as if they’d just heard the truth.

“If casual sex isn’t fun for you, then don’t do it. It’s not a requirement—it’s an option. Buy a good vibrator and take a break from being the fun girl who’s down for the superhot guy. Because if you think those men can’t tell that you’re flattered by the attention, you’re fooling yourself. If you believe they’re too hot for you, then you can bet your ass that they think so, too. And if you’re smiling your way through a booty call and pretending it’s a great way to spend a weeknight, those men are not going to try to talk you out of it.”

She took a deep breath. Almost done.

“So take a break. Reevaluate your choices. Figure out what you really want. And if what you want is to get serious with someone, then you wait for a person who’s serious about you. You wait for the guy who calls you when he doesn’t want sex.”

A few of the women frowned and Veronica smiled. “Okay, wait for the guy who’s dying to do you and also wants to spend time with you not having sex. Is that better?” All of the women cheered. “All right. Thank you very much, everyone. This has been a blast. I’ll see you in the paper!”

She waved blindly at the clapping crowd, then turned, meaning to grab her drink and retreat to the office to hyperventilate, but the glass was empty. Had she downed that whole thing in five minutes? No wonder she felt dizzy. Before she could retreat, someone rushed up behind her and squeezed her waist.

“You were amazing!” said Lauren.

“Was I? I think I’m going to faint.”

“Everybody loved it! You’re a natural.”

“I’m not,” she murmured, starting to see spots. She managed to smile toward a female voice that called out a quick thank-you, but then Veronica pointed her body toward the hallway and started walking. “I just need a minute,” she said.

She felt Lauren pat her back, and then Veronica was alone in the cool hallway and the noise of the crowd receded. She made it to the office, shut the door and collapsed into a chair.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Oh, my God, I did it. It’s over.” Her heart began to calm. The spots in her vision faded.

The door opened on a loud whoosh, and Veronica smiled gratefully, ready to fall into Lauren’s arms now that some of the shock had passed, but it wasn’t Lauren. It was Gerald King, the managing editor of the paper.

Oh, God. What if he’d finally seen through her stupid charade? What if he’d hated it?

“I’m not going to beat around the bush, Veronica.”

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.

“We were hoping to promote the paper and help pump up the locals’ specials advertising with tonight.”

“I know,” she breathed. Unfortunately, the spots were completely gone now and she could see Gerald’s stern face perfectly. He was only forty-five, but there was something in his posture that always reminded Veronica of her dad. Some arrogant, implacable way he held himself. She wished she hadn’t cornered herself in the office. There was no escape from his disappointment now.

“But this is going to work out differently, I think.”

She was already nodding, conceding her awfulness.

Gerald grunted, but she couldn’t decipher the noise. “Anyway, Thursday nights are fairly slow this time of year, and the place was almost full tonight. The owner is damn happy. I think we can make this a great summer tie-in for the paper. Hell, maybe we can even take it to a bigger location during ski season, though I’d much rather increase permanent circulation than just get a temporary bump in advertising rates. But hell, why not go for it all?”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“Every Thursday. Locals’ Advice Night with Dear Veronica. One hundred bucks a pop for you, paid as a bonus. Are you in?”

Are you in? He asked the question so casually. Almost as an aside, a formality. Of course she was in, because the paper wanted her to do it and she always said yes.

Veronica stared at him.

“Hey,” Gerald said, snapping his fingers. “Are you in? The manager wants to announce it before everyone leaves.”

She nodded, meaning that she understood what the manager wanted, but Gerald took it as an agreement. “Great. I’ll let him know. Good job out there.” And then he was gone, and Veronica had to come back and do this all over again next week.

The black spots swarmed again, descending on her like flies on a carcass. Could you die of regret and terror and stage fright? Veronica lowered her head to the desk and let the coolness of the fake wood seep into her face.

She’d succeeded and become a disaster in one fell swoop. The same fucking magic trick she’d been pulling off her entire life. But there was no running from it now. Jackson was home. She had nowhere else to go. She’d have to keep this charade going for a long while. And it had only felt as if everyone was watching before. Now they really were.

CHAPTER THREE

GABE STRETCHED OUT on the sun-warmed surface of the rock and let his sore muscles absorb the heat. The sky was a pale, pure blue above him and the breeze dried his sweat. His fingertips ached from bracing himself in a vertical crack after a misstep, but even that was perfect. He closed his eyes and melted into the mountain.

“Water?” his climbing partner asked.

Gabe opened his hand and felt a bottle hit his palm. “Thanks.”

“You’re out of shape, man.”

“Fuck you,” Gabe said, opening one eye just so he could glare at Benton. “You try living in Cincinnati and see how rusty your climbing skills get.”

“We’ll work on it,” Benton said.

“Hell, yeah, we will,” Gabe sighed. “Sunday?”

“You got it. Are you up for climbing Exum?”

Gabe sat up and stretched his left arm. “Jesus Christ, what is that? Eight hundred feet?”

“Sure, but it’s six pitches. And I’ll lower you down if you get too tired.”

“You’re an arrogant ass, you know that?”

Benton grinned. “That’s why you love me.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Gabe muttered. “Hell, I’m not even sure I love you.”

“Don’t tell me you’re just using me as a route leader?”

Gabe shrugged. “You come at the right price. Free.”

“Yet again, I’m just a cheap piece of ass.” Benton adjusted the tie holding back his dreadlocks and slipped on the shades that Gabe’s sister had once said made him look just like Lenny Kravitz. He tipped his head toward the cliff edge. “Ready?” he asked.

“Just give me another minute. I’m enjoying the hell out of this.” He closed his eyes again and let the silence wash over him. It wasn’t completely quiet, of course. Trees below them rustled in the breeze and Benton’s equipment clinked when he moved. But it was more profoundly quiet on the rock than it was when hiking or camping. There was no rustle of chipmunks through brush, no chorus of birds singing, no crackle of dead leaves under boots.

He stretched and pulled himself up. “I’ll see you Saturday morning, too.”

“No shit?” Benton asked. “You’re in?”

“I’m in,” Gabe answered. He’d just gotten word that his application for Technical Search and Rescue had been approved. After a couple months of training, there was a good chance he’d be out there helping with mountain rescues during the summer months.

Benton clapped him on the arm. “I never doubted it for a second.” He gestured toward the edge of the cliff. “After you.”

Gabe hooked back into the line and stood at the edge, but before he leaned out, he took the chance to look around one last time. This was his first solid climb since getting settled in Jackson a week before, and it was the perfect day. Sixty degrees and unlimited visibility. Valleys and peaks stretched out beneath him, the trees looking like stunted bushes from this height.

A hawk glided by, not shifting a feather as it rode an air current down. “Christ, I’m happy to be here,” he said quietly.

“I know. I still remember the day I decided I wasn’t leaving Jackson. It’s a great place to stay forever, even if I do have to live on a bartender’s tips and the occasional guiding gig. I’m guessing librarian doesn’t pay much more, but I guarantee you won’t find a reason to leave.”

Yeah. Unfortunately, Gabe already had a reason to leave. He couldn’t put good views and crisp air over his family, no matter how much he loved living here. He didn’t have the option to stay. Not forever. But he’d be damned if he’d waste his time here dwelling on that.

“Rappelling,” he called out, checking the anchor, the rope and the lock on his carabiner one last time.

“Rappel on, my friend,” Benton said.

Gabe turned around, stepped down and let his weight settle him into the right position. There was nothing but two hundred feet of air behind him and it felt perfect.

“Hey!” Benton called as Gabe began to descend. “You coming out with us tonight?”

“Absolutely.”

“Great. We’re heading over to a new locals’ night at Three Martini Ranch. Dear Veronica hosts it. Supposed to be a blast.”

Gabe’s hand tightened reflexively around the rope, slowing his descent. He loosened his grip and shook off his surprise.

Between moving all his belongings into a new apartment and working his ass off at the library, he’d been too busy to think much about Veronica Chandler in the past week. She was a distraction Gabe didn’t need. But she was definitely a distraction.

He had no idea what to think of her. She was pretty, a pain in the ass and absolutely not his type. She was also funny and smart as hell, if last Thursday’s performance was any guide. She’d been transformed into that warm, welcoming version of herself once she’d started speaking, but more than that, she’d been bright as a star.

He’d agreed with every one of the answers she’d had for the letter writers, and he’d been looking forward to discussing them with her after the performance. So much so that he’d realized what a bad idea it was to stay, and he’d said his goodbyes and hauled ass before she could come out to join Lauren.

He’d figured that was the end of it, but apparently, he was going to see her again tonight. Not that he had to go, but...what good was a day off if he couldn’t hang out with old friends?

Gabe slid past an overhang and kept up a steady descent until he was back on flat ground, then shouted the alert back up to Benton.

“Geronimo!” Benton yelled back. He was down in a few minutes.