One Step Away (A Bedford Falls Novel Book 1) (18 page)

So when would he be leaving? Had he already
informed the Board? And where did that leave her? She’d just
started and expected to work with Lance to ensure that she
fulfilled her duties and picked up all the knowledge that he’d need
to pass along to her.

Dread filled her. What would happen now? The
Board would obviously want to hire an experienced director who
could give her the guidance she needed. But until then, would she
become the interim director? If so, she wasn’t prepared for the
guidance and insight needed to lead her organization. Her previous
position as department head had given her plenty of leadership
experience, but anyone tasked with becoming an interim director
needed much more mentoring before they stepped into that
position.

Alexander still hadn’t removed his gaze from
Lance. “Why did you ask me to stop by?”

Lance got to his feet, motioned to Marisa,
stepped away from the table, and walked out of the room.

Astonished at Lance’s total reluctance to
discuss the subject of this meeting, Marisa stared at Alexander,
who spun around, astonished to see Lance simply walk out of their
meeting.

Turning, Alexander looked directly into her
eyes with an impenetrable stare. “What’s going on?”

She felt a spark of intensity flicker
through her. She had never seen Alexander look so determined, so in
control. It was unexpected and unsettling and, she couldn’t believe
she was even thinking it, but kind of…sexy. She shook her head to
banish that stray thought.

The disarming realization that Lance might
soon be leaving obviously distracted and confused, which explained
why her mouth had gone dry. And it explained why she’d had a
momentary thought that never would have occurred to her otherwise.
She swallowed and licked her lips as she met his gaze.

“Well?”

“We’re going to be changing our borrowing
restrictions. We’ve run some reports, and your patrons constitute a
large percentage of our highest circulating materials: videogames,
new DVDs, and new books. It means our taxpayers are paying for your
community to use our materials. And we’ve revised our policy to
prevent that from happening in the near future.”

Reciprocal borrowing had always been a
long-standing partnership between all public libraries in Illinois.
This new restriction would greatly affect the amount of time
Alexander’s patrons would be waitlisted for items they’ve
requested. It would result in many upset patrons…patrons who would
complain to Alexander and his staff, thereby making both his
patrons
and
staff irritated and edgy.

He stared at her. “You said a ‘large
percentage’ of my patrons used your materials. What kind of figures
are we talking about?”

Marisa removed the packet from under her
notebook and handed it to him.

He paged through pie charts, bar graphs, and
spreadsheets that verified Marisa’s claims. He’d known that Vista
Heights’ patrons frequented Bedford Falls and used their materials,
but based on the way his eyebrows lifted a notch, he had no idea
the statistics were so high.

Many Vista Heights’ patrons would soon need
to return to their home library, and most of them would be upset
that their library couldn’t compete with the abundance of materials
that Bedford Falls offered to its customers. After all, while both
libraries had similar budgets, Vista Heights served three times as
many people. Therefore, Alexander’s library faced a huge shortfall
of materials without the budget to make up for this disparity,
which would aggravate a considerable number of its residents.

Vista Heights’s patrons would soon lash out
at the Bedford Falls’ staff for instituting this change.
Afterwards, they would turn their dissatisfaction upon their home
library – and at Alexander for failing to anticipate this
inevitable policy change. And since he came from Bedford Falls,
he’ll have given them one more reason to dislike him.

Watching as Alexander’s bewilderment gave
way to annoyance, Marisa could only imagine that he regretted
taking the promotion at Vista Heights. And it hurt her that he’d
soon have plenty of ill will thrust upon him.

Alexander put the packet aside and shaded
his eyes with a hand. “You couldn’t have told me about this
sooner?”

“I found out about it on your last day.
That’s why I was late to your goodbye party. I knew what this would
mean for you, and I—”

“Didn’t want to tell me? So when does this
policy go into effect?”

“A little less than a month from now – on
November first.”

“What?” Alexander said, rising from his
chair. “That’s it? My community has been checking out those
materials for over a decade. And you want to make this huge change
in less than a month?”

“I’m sorry,” Marisa said, unable to meet his
gaze. “If it’s any consolation, your patrons will be upset with
us…before they turn on your management team.” She shook her head,
wishing she could have phrased that better. Marisa meant to sound
apologetic, but no matter what came out of her mouth, she wouldn’t
have to deal with the repercussions of the policy her library had
put into effect.

“For a few months,” Alexander said, “my
patrons might be angry with your library. But after that, they’ll
come back to their home library and get upset because we don’t have
your budget. Is that timeline fixed?”

“The Board of Trustees just agreed to it a
couple days ago. And knowing that Lance doesn’t like Vista Heights,
I don’t see him changing that date.”

Alexander cracked a smile out of
disbelief.

Marisa could see him silently making mental
calculations. “We’ll help in any way that we can,” she said, using
a commiserating tone.

“Really? How does that work?”

“I didn’t do this, okay? The department
heads brought it to the Board. They made this decision, not
me.”

“Who said anything about you? I didn’t.
Three weeks goes by and you get an ego the size of Mount
Everest.”

Marisa looked down and exhaled, trying to
regain her peace of mind. She knew where his temper stemmed from,
and she couldn’t blame him for unleashing some of it on her. But
she feared that bringing up a personal issue during a professional
one might not be a wise decision, so she stayed with the topic at
hand. “We’ll work with your library to try and…make this adjustment
as smooth as possible.”

Alexander just shook his head. “Smooth?” He
laughed. “Like that’ll happen. Your library has been giving away
the store for over a decade, and you decide to overturn all of that
goodwill with less than a month’s notice? Your Board has just
walked into a public relations nightmare, and you’re dragging my
library down with you.”

Marisa didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t
do anything to help him. She met his gaze, hoping she could say
something, do something that would lessen the magnitude of the
situation he now faced. But nothing came to mind. Besides, based on
his demeanor, she got the impression that any attempted measure of
consolation would infuriate him.

“I didn’t think taking a promotion would
wreck my career,” he said. “And even worse than that? Knowing that
my last employer would get the ball rolling.”

“I’m sorry. I wish—”

He waved off any explanation she might offer
and headed for the exit. “I’ve got go. I’ll see you around.”

“Alexander, please—”

Just as he reached the threshold, he
swiveled back to her. “And from now on, call me Alex.”

He stared into her eyes with such intensity
that Marisa felt her knees weaken. He had never talked to her like
that. She opened her mouth to reply, but she couldn’t summon her
voice. She could only nod.

Seeing that she got the message, he spun
around and disappeared.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

An hour later, to get his mind off of the
career challenges that awaited him, Alex got on his bike and rode
to the DMV, placing his full concentration on his surroundings in
order to ride safely on the streets. Once he arrived at the
facility, he was surprised to find it still open – he forgot that
he’d left work early to attend the meeting at Bedford Falls.

The facility would remain open for another
hour or so. He didn’t want to wait to practice, which meant he’d
need to stick around until after the last person left, because
according to a sign in the lot, practicing on the range was
prohibited. He turned to leave, but instead focused on how the
library that helped him rise to the position of library director
now basically declared war on him.

Disgusted by the negativity in his life, he
decided to take the motorcycle test. After all, he’d taken to the
streets for over a week now, and he hadn’t encountered any
difficulties in traffic, so he expected to do just fine on the
course. Besides, he needed to succeed at something to prevent a
dark cloud from following him home.

He entered the driver’s facility, handed in
paperwork to take the test, then sat and waited for fifteen minutes
before a female instructor called his name. Alongside her, Alex
walked out into the parking lot, a small range exactly 30 feet wide
by 75 feet long.

He got on his bike, rode over to the
instructor, listened to her instructions, and pulled up to the
starting point to begin weaving through the five cones, which were
separated at twelve foot intervals in a zigzag pattern. Alex needed
to navigate his 650-pound bike at two miles an hour between cones
essentially three feet apart. The task seemed impossible, but he’d
done it a number of times in practice, so he expected to pass.

He eased off of the clutch and turned the
throttle. He veered around the first cone then maneuvered around
the next one. Excited by his success, Alex warned himself not to
hit the throttle too hard or shift the handlebars too quickly; the
slightest shift in the wrong direction could push him off the
course.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, because he
was so intent on not making mistakes, an image of Marisa appeared
behind his eyes, glaring at him with an expression that said, “You
aren’t good enough for me.” Never mind that she’d never uttered
those words or even looked at him with such distaste. She could
never be that cold, that distant.

Now, after seeing that impression in his
mind, Alex couldn’t move the handlebars for the next turn. His
brain wouldn’t even allow the command to register to his hands and
arms. Frozen with indecision and uncertainty, he plowed into one
cone. Then another. And finally the last one. He pulled in the
clutch and hit the brakes, stopping the bike.

“Okay,” said the instructor, coming up to
him while jotting down notes on the test sheet attached to her
clipboard. “Next, I’d like you to line up—”

“I’m done,” Alex said, infuriated for
letting the most embarrassing moment of his life (that never
actually happened) enter his mind at the most inopportune time.
Anger boiling under the surface made his heart thunder in his
chest.

“You could still lose four points and pass
the test,” the instructor said, not looking up from her
document.

Marisa’s imagined expression hit him once
more, one that said he wasn’t worthy of her love. Unable to block
the image from bombarding his brain, Alex knew that if he continued
with the test he would fail by epic proportions. He shook his head.
“I’m done here.” He accepted his driver’s license from the
instructor, got back on his bike, and took off down the street.

Riding home, he couldn’t get over how he’d
allowed his fears to intrude upon a completely unrelated segment of
his life. He’d wanted to overcome this obstacle to improve himself,
and he’d allowed his past to affect his future.

That night, Alex wanted to leave his
troubles behind and, thinking that consuming a good supply of
alcohol could cure his incompetence, he drove over to
Apocalyptica
to meet Damon, who just texted saying that he
met a woman at the gym and would arrive a little late. Alex ordered
a couple shots and waited at the bar, watching dozens of fish
zipping through a tank that stretched twenty yards in length behind
the bartenders.

“Well, if it isn’t Alexander no-date,” said
Brad, walking up to him.

Alex released a breath, not in the mood for
Brad’s antics. He ignored the comment, although he had to hand it
to him: it was a witty remark.

“I said, hey, Alexander no—”

“I heard,” Alex said, turning to meet Brad’s
grin. “Congratulations. It only took you a few weeks to come up
with that one.”

Brad gestured at him with a glass devoid of
liquor but loaded with ice cubes. “It must suck that you can’t get
a date.” He pulled up beside Alex, got the bartender’s attention,
and ordered another whiskey sour. He faced Alex, staring down at
him. “I could warm up some of these honeys, you know, talk you up,
that sort of thing. Maybe you’ll even get lucky. You game?”

Alex snickered. “I’m good.” He shook his
head, amazed at Brad’s arrogance.

“Just trying to help you out.” He examined
Alex’s face. “Seriously, how long has it been? A few years, at
least, right?” He scrutinized him with greater concentration.
“Whoa! Longer? How about five years? Really? Longer than that?
Maybe I was right: a decade!” After the bartender filled his glass,
Brad took a healthy swallow and looked at Alex.

“What’re you staring at?” Alex asked.

“Nothing important.”

Feeling anger rising inside him, but
determined not to let it control him, he turned to Brad. “What’s
your problem?”

“Glad you asked,” Brad said, slamming his
now empty glass on the counter. “You’re my problem. You’re the
reason I haven’t gotten with Marisa since you two had that fight or
whatever. And yeah, I’m talking sex – something you’ll never have
with her.”