The Best Kind of Trouble
Page 11

“I’m a horrible cook. Sometimes I can’t get away from work for an hour for this or that reason, and I need something quick. Plus, I eat out. A lot. It’s better than a frozen diet meal, which tastes like tears and loneliness. I hate them. And yet, my freezer is full of them.”
He wrinkled his nose and then gave her curves a covetous look. “Why in God’s name do you need diet meals?”
“I love doughnuts and I hate exercise.”
“Sex is great exercise. I’m just saying.”
“Hmm. I’m not sure it’s a good selling point when you’re trying to get one woman into bed to reference other women.”
He cringed and then caught the twinkle in her eyes. “Oh, my God. You’re teasing me.”
She shrugged. “Some people think I’m funny. Even those of us who shush others for a living know how to laugh.”
He snickered and then paused as he imagined her all stern in a pencil skirt and a button-down white shirt. Maybe with a ruler and some really high black pumps and stockings with the line down the back.
Leading up to those twin red bows.
Clearing his throat, he drained the rest of his champagne and poured them both some more.
“Why libraries?”
“I was in my third year as an undergrad and I went to a job fair. I wandered up and down the aisles, took brochures. Took notes. Asked questions dutifully. And I ended up at the MLIS people—master’s in library and information science—spent forty-five minutes with them. I liked them. I liked what they did. Until that, I’d been considering getting a teaching degree. One of the folks I met that day urged me to apply to the graduate MLIS program, and I did.”
They continued to eat as she spoke.
“So I looked around and kept at it, and he was so helpful and kind and open. I applied and got in.” She paused. “Of course, by the time I was ready to graduate, the economy had changed. With all the cuts to libraries, I wasn’t sure what would happen. I’d been working part-time in a library near campus, so I knew how tight things were. I considered jobs outside public libraries—law firms need librarians, for instance. Colleges, universities, that sort of thing. But...the public library is important. I really wanted to pursue a position that way. This job here in town opened up, and one of my friends told me about it, and that’s pretty much history.”
“You probably could have made a lot more money elsewhere.”
Her eyes lost that teasing light and she got serious. “Libraries are important, Paddy. Libraries are not just a place to check out books. They’re a haven, a safe place for so many kids. You cannot undervalue that. Being a place, a home for people who need to escape their own unsafe places is something libraries provide. It’s a priceless thing. Some kids don’t have any adults in their lives who give a shit about them. They can go to the children’s librarian who does something as simple as holding back a book she thinks that kid would like, and it changes everything. I make enough to pay my bills and fortunately, I have family money, too. That I have the ability to be part of someone’s safe place means everything to me.”
Right then, Paddy fell a little bit in love with Natalie Clayton with her ferocity about kids and libraries.
“Go down a layer or two and you’re a fierce bitch about kids. I like that a lot.”
She shrugged.
“Family money?”
She looked away a moment and then nodded. “Yes. I considered giving it all up, but in the end, I like using it to help other people.”
“What does your family think?”
“Let’s talk about you for a while. Why did you stay here in Hood River instead of heading to L.A. or Seattle or New York?”
“I like all those places. I actually do have a condo in Manhattan and a place in Santa Barbara, where I head when I need the ocean. But my family is here. We have enough land that I can be left alone when I need it, but my brothers and my parents are close enough that I can get on my bike or take a brisk walk and be on someone’s doorstep in a few minutes. I help when I’m around. We built a studio in an old converted barn, and we do all our own production there. I know where everything is. No one bothers us in town, really. I guess at the end of it, this is my home. Everyone should have a home.”
She smiled at him and it made him happy.
“I like Hood River a lot. Love it in the fall best. Love the colors of the leaves. So gorgeous.”
“I thought you grew up in Medina?”
“No. My grandparents lived there. I grew up in Los Angeles, actually. I visited a few times every year, but I grew up in a world where the leaves never changed.”
“Where at in L.A.?”
“Whittier. It’s a suburb east of downtown. So you mentioned a sister-in-law? When did your brother get married?”
She was touchy about her family, obviously.
“Let’s see, um, about a year ago. Yeah, they’re coming up on their anniversary soon. Do you have siblings?”
“I grew up thinking no. But a few years ago, my grandmother let it slip after five glasses of wine that a person I thought was my second cousin is actually my sister.”
“Wow, that’s some daytime-talk-show stuff right there. How did she react? Did she know?”
“She doesn’t know and really, she’s better off not knowing. Not like she’s missing out on any sort of stellar parenting.”
“You don’t want to tell her? To have a relationship with her?” Paddy couldn’t imagine not going to someone who was his brother or sister. He may fight like crazy with his brothers, but he couldn’t imagine not having them all in his life.