39

Knox

I skip work Tuesday.

Not because I’m not going back to the West Park Branch Library. I finally called Gertie back last night and told her I’d be back, but that I needed a couple days off.

Today, though, I’ve showered, put on clean pants, and I’m out of the apartment.

I’m even meeting a woman for coffee.

“I heard a rumor you quit at the library,” Lila says when we sit down. We’re at a chain coffee shop, even though I like The Bean Tree’s food and coffee better, because a chain coffee shop doesn’t make me think of Parker.

Or so I tell myself.

“I did,” I tell her. “They begged me to come back, though I don’t know why. I’m an insufferable employee with ego problems.”

She laughs. “That’s not the best way to start a job interview.”

“Don’t know that I want the job.” Except that’s not true.

I love working at the library. I grew up in my mom’s library, and I fucking own the adult section of the West Park Branch Library. Libraries are in my blood.

But my objection to working for Lila isn’t about the work. Being on the front lines of selecting the next great romance novel? That’s fucking power. I like it.

What I don’t like is the idea of being a slave to a job.

Of working so hard, so long, so many hours, that I never get to enjoy life.

Of becoming my father.

I don’t know if he was a good guy or a bad guy. Honest truth. He worked as many weekends as he was home, always up before dawn, home after Troy and I were in bed.

Since Parker kicked me out, I’ve been thinking about him a lot.

Not often that happens. Never thought he was a big influence on me. But his death was. If falling in love with Parker has shown me anything, it’s how much I’ve let fear of becoming my father rule my life.

I’ve tried to become my mother instead.

And while I truly do love working at the library, I need to be me.

Lila’s mug clunks onto the table, and I pull myself back into the coffee shop.

“What happened?” she asks.

I could play dumb, but there’s no point. Women know these things. I try to still my knee, but it won’t quit bouncing. “You know the engagement was fake the whole time. You were there.”

“Huh.”

I eyeball her. She smiles a pretty smile that does jack shit for me.

“I saw your eyes light up the night of the bachelor auction when she flagged you down,” she says. “It was never fake. You just didn’t know it.”

“Okay, wise one, then why did she dump me?”

“Maybe because you still live with your grandmother.”

“You don’t really want me to come work for you, do you?”

She laughs again. “Oh, I think we’d get along just fine. You give me shit, I give you shit, we argue over a few books, we argue some more over who found the next Fifty Shades but give each other all the credit in public…”

Sounds a lot like working at the library.

A chair slams down between us at the two-person table, and I look up to find Parker’s fourth brother glowering at me. “Couldn’t wait two fucking days to find a new woman, asshole?”

I don’t actually know who’s oldest and youngest—I call Jack the fourth because I met him last and know the least about him.

Also because I figure it would probably piss him off. “Couldn’t even wait one,” I reply.

“And he has a death wish too,” Lila says on a sigh as I easily dodge Jack’s right hook. She stands and puts herself between us. “Sit,” she orders.

“He—”

“Is here looking for a job, which you should appreciate.” Lila snaps her fingers and points at the chair Jack dropped.

He stays standing, but he doesn’t take another swing.

Probably waiting until my guard is down.

“She dumped him,” Lila says. “She wants him to be a grown-up and he’s still living with his grandmother.”

“Jesus.” I’m rapidly deciding working for this woman isn’t in my best interest. “She just wanted me for my body. Short-term. We both got what we wanted, so we ended it.”

“You got what you wanted,” he repeats.

“She got what she wanted. And newsflash—she called it quits.”

“Why?”

“Because she was done with me.”

“Who fed you that horseshit?” Jack demands.

“Who the fuck do you think? And don’t talk about your sister like that.”

Jack takes a wide-legged stance. “You believed her?”

“Yes, I fucking believed her.”

“You ask her why?”

I’m warring with myself, because on the one hand, I want to slug Jack for butting in and for not respecting his sister’s opinions. On the other, I’ve asked myself that very question more times than I can count.

And then I ask myself why I didn’t stay and demand an answer from her, at which point I don’t know if I would’ve been a jackass or a hero, and I’ve never been on the line of wondering, which means it really could’ve gone either way.

He throws himself into the chair he banged up to the table. “You know what Parker’s afraid of?”

I could probably make a list, but I’m not going there with her brother.

“She’s afraid of getting her heart broke, you moron,” Jack fills in. “What’s easier? Dumping you, or waiting for you to dump her?”

“I wasn’t going to fucking dump her.”

“Does she know that? Because it’s no secret you go through women like you go through loincloths.”

“I’ve had one fucking loincloth for the last eight years.”

He shrugs. “Bad analogy. Point is, you’re a player, and she knows it.”

Yeah, he and I had this argument already. About a week ago, in fact, while my nuts were in danger of going up in flames.

And since Parker dumped me, there’s really no good reason for me to not return the favor. Except for the part where we have a witness. Lila seems to be enjoying this.

“You’re also unfortunately the best of the fuckers she’s ever dated.”

Yeah, tell me something I don’t know. “We supposed to hug and sing hippie songs now?”

“No, you’re supposed to get your head out of your ass and fix my sister.”

I want to be pissed that he’s going behind Parker’s back, but I can’t work up the anger.

Not if there’s any chance she’s hurting even half as badly as I am.

“What’s wrong with Parker?”

He stands. “Apparently none of your goddamn business, if you can’t stop moping for yourself long enough to consider how she’s feeling.”

Lila smiles at me over her coffee mug while Jack slams out the front door. “Sounds like you’re not the only one taking the break-up hard,” she says cheerfully.

“Your cheerfulness is fucking annoying,” I tell her.

“Says the man who smiled through getting spit up on by a baby.” She pulls out her phone. “I’m emailing you a few contingencies for my job offer. You have forty-eight hours to respond before I go to the next blogger on my list. Manuscripts are piling up. I’m losing patience.”

Still so fucking cheerful.

While I’m sitting here with heat cascading through my chest and my heart threatening to thump right out of it.

If Parker’s hurting—if she dumped me because she was afraid I’d dump her instead, if she does actually care—then I don’t give a fuck about Lila’s pile of manuscripts.

I stand.

“Heard a rumor she has band practice at Chase Jett’s house tonight,” she says casually as her thumbs fly over her phone. “And while I obviously can’t discriminate based on relationship status, you’re basically no good to me—or your Mr. Romance fans, or any library patrons—when you’re moping.”

“Why do you know about Parker’s band practice?” I ask.

“We’re two professional women who work for demanding bosses and don’t have enough time for fun, which we’re both working on changing. We’re having lunch tomorrow. Although she sounds like she needs it sooner.”

I glare at her.

She smiles and takes another sip of coffee.

Lila Valentine is quickly becoming the sister I never had. Still don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing, but I know one thing.

I’ve been a moron.

And I’ve let Parker down.

Again.

Time to fix this once and for all.