Karina Bliss - What the Librarian Did

“I’ll settle the legal bill with what the tabloids pay me!” she yelled back. He heard the sound of cabinets and drawers being opened. “Where’s the bloody soap?”

Devin renewed his struggle. “As if I’m telling you!”

She slammed the bathroom door. He tried to reach the knots on his left wrist with his teeth but the librarian had strung him so tight he couldn’t get close. Just as well-he’d probably kill her if he got free right now.

“Devin.” A faint, familiar voice from the doorway wrenched him from his revenge fantasies.

“Mom,” he rasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I host the Coronary Club here Fridays.” As her fascinated gaze trailed over his bonds, he heard the sound of approaching voices, then several elderly women appeared behind her.

“Oh, my Lord, Katherine,” whispered one of them. “Is this one of your boys?” Everyone behind jostled for a look-see and within seconds half a dozen matrons stood at the end of the bed, checking him out with unabashed interest. And Devin discovered he did have inhibitions left.

He wiggled to try and lift the waistband of his boxers, which had gone dangerously low when Rachel had hauled off his pants, but all that did was draw the ladies’ attention lower.

“Anyone getting palpitations, leave the room,” said Katherine in a pained voice he recognized from his childhood. The one that usually preceded a grounding.

Devin cleared his throat to bring everybody’s attention back to his face. “It’s not what you think.”

The bathroom door opened and Rachel came out, rubbing a bar of soap on the zip of the dress, which was lowered to her waist. “The cabinet’s full of women’s toiletries. You’ve got quite a little harem going-” She looked up and gasped so hard, her lovely breasts threatened to pop out of her lacy strapless bra. Devin didn’t much like Rachel’s clothes, but her underwear was fantastic.

The expression on her face made her look like a Picasso: it was all over the place. He grinned suddenly. Okay, this was worth it. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” he suggested kindly.

Her grip convulsed on the soap, which popped free and flew across the room. The ladies followed its trajectory, then turned back to stare at Rachel, who was zipping her dress up as fast as she could. “I’m not a groupie,” she faltered. “I’m his librarian.”

“And this is a new approach to chasing overdue books?” suggested Katherine helpfully.

Devin waited for the moment Rachel’s eyes widened as she registered their resemblance.

Because, as any bass player knew, timing was everything.

Then he settled back on his pillows. “Meet my mother.”

His date squared her shoulders and held out her hand. “How do you do.” Then Ms. Grace-under-pressure crumbled. “You see, I thought he had another woman,” she explained, clinging to Katherine’s hand. “It was your shoes under the bed. They were kicked off as though…” Rachel finally realized she held his mother’s hand in a death grip and dropped it. “Well, my mistake.”

Color flooded Katherine’s cheeks as if she was having a hot flash. Except she’d been through menopause. A horrible suspicion dawned on Devin, becoming certainty when his mother flicked him a guilty look. His mouth tightened.

“Now who’s got some explaining to do?”

SOMEONE UNTIED HIM. Devin got dressed, then he and Rachel made cups of tea for the Coronary Club. Because making nice, he told her when she fluttered, panicking, toward the exit, was the way you persuaded people to keep your secrets. It worked with the media…sometimes.

Rachel approached every individual and earnestly explained all the circumstances. Devin followed with a plate of low-fat oatmeal cookies and some high-octane flirting.

Devin and the ladies had a good time. Rachel and his mom skittered away whenever there was the remotest possibility of Devin being alone with them. But he didn’t own a cowboy hat just because it looked good.

He corralled his first filly when his mom left the safety of the herd to say farewell to one of her cronies. The elevator doors had barely closed on her full-figured friend when he said behind her, “You had sex with someone in my bed?”

Katherine turned on him defensively. “I changed the sheets.”

He’d hoped for a denial. “This isn’t the fifties, Mom. There are STDs to worry about now, AIDS.”

She tried to step past him. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Dev.”

He blocked her escape. “And what about your heart condition? I mean, should you be raising your heart rate like that?”

“Orgasms are very good-”

“Oh, God!” Devin clapped his hands over his ears. His father must be turning in his grave.

Katherine pulled his hands away. “For relieving stress, which in turn reduces blood pressure.” Exasperated, she surveyed him. “I did warn you not to start this conversation.”

“Well, who is it?” he demanded. “I’m assuming there’s only one.”

She considered him. “That’s none of your business, any more than what you do with Rachel is mine.” Her voice softened. “She’s adorable, by the way.”

Rachel came into the foyer at that moment, shawl clutched around her and staring over her shoulder as though fearful of being followed. Devin waited until she was close. “Looking for me?” he asked, and she started guiltily.

“I’ve explained our misunderstanding and accepted total responsibility.” She avoided his gaze by smoothing the fringe on her shawl. “I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.” Awkwardly, she held a hand out to his mother. “Nice to have met you, Katherine.”

His mom clasped it in both of hers. “And you.”

Devin cut short the pleasantries. “How are you intending to get home?”

“I ordered a taxi.”

“I’ll wait with you. Mom-” his gaze pinned Katherine’s ”-we’ll talk when I come back.”

“Devin…we won’t.” Her tone was equally adamant. “At least not about that. Goodbye, Rachel.” She smiled. “I do hope I’ll see you again.”

“Oh, I’m nowhere near through with her yet,” he promised his mother.

Rachel got twitchy as soon as the elevator door closed. “I’m sorry about earlier.” Despite her calm tone, she kept jabbing at the elevator button to try to make it move faster. “I jumped to-”

Devin backed her into a corner and kissed her.

She broke free, surprised. “Aren’t you mad at-”

He kissed her again. Harder. This time when she came up for air, she was disheveled and breathless.

“It’s probably for the best. You and I aren’t-”

And again. The woman would not shut up. He could feel the moment she stopped thinking “shoulds” and “shouldn’ts” and started thinking “why nots” and “maybe.”

Started seeing him as he’d grown to see her-a fascinating world unexplored. This time when he lifted his head that intriguing glow was back in her gray eyes.

Devin let the warmth permeate through to his bones before he stepped back. “We’re even,” he said.

“INSERT THE SIXTH NOTE after the fifth to give your bass pattern a lighter, more upbeat quality…yeah, that’s it.”

Mark tried but he couldn’t sustain concentration past a few bars. “I’m sorry.” Disheartened, he stopped playing. “I guess I’m not feeling it today.”

He watched apprehensively as Devin took off his acoustic guitar and walked out of the living room of his apartment. Miserably, Mark stared down at the view, his bass still hanging from his shoulder strap.

At 11:00 a.m. on a clear summer morning, all Auckland’s landmarks were on display-the Sky Tower, the bridge and Rangitoto, the dormant cone-shaped volcano in the harbor. How many chances would his mentor give him, he wondered, before he wrote him off?