Chapter 49

"I'm going to have to visit the bathroom and take care of some things." He grunted like he was in pain.

I couldn't help but look at his dick.

"Don't stare at it," he hissed. "That's just going to make it worse. It loves when you look at it."

"Sorry," I said, trying to suppress a giggle but failing miserably. His face flushed a deep red but the corners of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile.

"Even your apologies are sexy," he groaned. "You laugh now, sweetcakes, but you'll be making different noises in bed tonight."

His playful threat had sparked anticipation in me that I didn't know was possible. The banter between us, the teasing? All of it felt so natural and easy. I couldn't help but wonder if this was how it would always be with him. All I knew was that I enjoyed the flirtatious game we'd started. I liked talking dirty. All the romance books I read were paying off.

"Who's that?" Archer asked and suddenly got very serious.

I glanced in the direction he was looking. "Shit, that's my boss, Philip. I didn't know he was going to be here today."

"Are you in trouble?" he asked.

"No. I shouldn't be."

When Philip spotted me, he approached with his gaze locked on me like a heat-seeking missile. I didn't like being the target. My heart raced. His stern expression sent a shiver down my spine. I never did anything to warrant a scolding.

I was truly the perfect employee. I wasn't used to him scowling at me. I'd seen him snap at other people but not me. Had he somehow overheard me and Archer? I got flustered at the idea he happened to overhear that conversation that was not meant for anyone's ears except ours.

"I need a word with you," he demanded.

What could possibly be wrong? "Of course."

I assumed he was pissed that he caught me sitting with Archer. It wasn't like the library was hopping. But then again he was paying me to work. I should be dusting or organizing.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed, suddenly remembering we were in a library.

"I was just talking," I said. "Reading."

He scowled. "Plotting."

"What?"

"I know you've been working hard to sabotage me," he said with disgust. His anger and hatred rolled off him in waves.

"Sabotage? Me? I've poured my heart and soul into this library, dedicated myself to serving the place. How could you think I would ever intentionally harm it?"

"You know exactly what you did. You just cost me a fortune."

"I don't understand," I said, shaking my head. "What are you talking about?"

"I was supposed to sell this place. I would have made a huge profit. I should have been able to retire on the profit I would make. But then you had to be a hero."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I thought you wanted to save the library. When this one went private, I thought the goal was to save it and restore it."

He snorted. "That was the plan, but I have a huge opportunity and you're destroying it."

"My intentions weren't malicious," I said. "I only wanted to do what was best for the library and the community it serves."

"You and that stupid fundraiser and all the flyers," he hissed. "You're making me look like a monster."

"The flyers are meant to raise awareness," I said. "Isn't saving the library a better option? You'll still make money. If it gets the improvements it needs, it could bring in more money."

"Do you know what those developers are willing to pay?" he asked.

"No, but is it really about the money?"

He threw his hands up. "Of course it's about the money."

"I think a library is about more than just profit," I said calmly.

"That's the most na?ve thing I've ever heard," he said.

"Na?ve or not, it is the truth," I retorted back, a newfound fire in my eyes. "You may be the owner of this place but it's not yours to take away. It belongs to the community, to all the people who seek refuge in the worlds these books create."

His lips contorted with annoyance, clearly vexed by my audacity. It wasn't something he was accustomed to. "There is no place for old-fashioned sentimentality in this world," he snapped back. "It's eat or be eaten. Survival of the fittest."

"Maybe that's your world," I said, standing up to him. "Where do you think these people are going to go to study in peace? Where will children come to learn about concepts like ‘survival of the fittest'? This library isn't just a place for homeless people to use the internet. Lots of people get access to the world right here. A fancy building they will surely be banned from entering isn't helpful."

His eyes narrowed, perhaps seeing me for the first time not as a mild-mannered librarian but as a passionate advocate for those we served. "I did not hire you to turn this place into a homeless shelter," he sneered.

"They're applying for jobs online," I said. "Well, most of them. Randy keeps looking up politicians' home addresses, and I'm not getting involved in that. But my point is, a library is not just about handing out books. It's about serving the community. Maybe you should think about that. Why did you buy this place if you were just going to turn around and sell it to the highest bidder?"

"I didn't buy it to become some sort of philanthropist." His disdain echoed loudly in the silence that followed, revealing the pure motive of greed behind his intentions.

"I am disappointed," I said after a moment, my voice trembling. "I thought you understood what we do here."

His face hardened into an unreadable mask. "You have no idea what it takes to keep this place afloat. You see only what you want to see."

"It needs a few updates." I looked around and shrugged. "It can be great again. It's been neglected for a long time. It hasn't gotten the attention of the other bigger libraries in the city, but it doesn't make it any less important, especially for those that use it."

He sighed, rolling his eyes as though the argument had grown tiresome. "Your passion, while commendable, is misguided. You need to face reality."

"Reality isn't quite so straightforward. What's real to you isn't necessarily the same for everyone else. For some, reality is knowing that this library is their haven, their school, sometimes even their home."

"I want you to take down those flyers," he said. "You've got half the city calling me. You're painting me as a villain."

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I won't. I refuse to stand by and watch it be torn down and replaced with something soulless and devoid of meaning. A building that caters to people that don't even live in this neighborhood is unwanted. I'm not going to just sit back and let it happen without putting up a fight. Someone needs to fight for this place. I'm sure you have other properties you can sell."

"I've made my decision!"

I didn't flinch. "And I've made mine. I'm not taking those flyers down."

He looked like he was going to explode again but then he backed down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't understand you," he muttered.

"Maybe that's the problem," I said softly. "You don't understand the value of this place because you never cared enough to know it."

"I can't afford to run a charity!"

"This is not a charity! It is a service, one that this community relies on. It's more than just an old building filled with books. I don't understand why this is so hard for you to understand."

"And I don't know why you think you have any say in this," he said. "I own this building. You don't know the first thing about running a business. You've got this little fantasy in your head about how this works. I'm asking you to take down the flyers and cancel the fundraiser. It will change nothing. You cannot raise the money to match what the developers are paying me. All you are doing is making a fuss about something that's already a done deal. You're purposely trying to smear my name."

"Your name is nowhere on the flyers," I pointed out. "Most people don't know you own this place. They assume it's funded by the city."

"And they are wrong," he retorted vehemently. "All they do is moan about the lack of services, but none of them would give a dime if asked for."

I smiled and nodded. "I suppose we're going to find out. Despite the odds stacked against us, I am going to try. It may not work, but we owe it to the people who rely on this place. And even if it doesn't work out, I want to say I tried."

He was quiet for what felt like three hours. I wondered if I had finally gotten through. He could stop all of this right now. The ball was in his court.

Just when I thought maybe I was supposed to walk away, taking it as a win, he looked at me as if I had sprouted a second head. But then his expression softened and he shook his head. I realized he had made a decision. "I'm sorry to do this, Mary Ellen. But you're fired. Your last check will be here for you on Monday."

Fired?

The word echoed in my mind, bouncing around like it was searching for a different definition. Just like that, everything I'd worked for, everything I'd believed in, was ripped away from me. "Are you serious?" I asked.

He nodded. "You've left me no choice. I can't have an employee actively trying to destroy me. I gave you an opportunity to leave it alone, but you refused. You could have kept your job until the deal was done, but you can't compromise. You've cost me a lot of time and frustration. I won't have it. I'm certainly not going to pay you to keep harassing me."

I stood there in shock and disbelief.

"Good luck," he said and turned to walk away. He stopped and looked back at me. "Leave your ID badge on the desk along with your library card. You won't be needing it either. You can go. Take your boyfriend with you."

The weight of his words sank in, a heavy feeling in my chest I couldn't shake off. Fired? It felt like a bad dream, one that I couldn't wake up from.

I had poured so much energy into this place. I honestly thought he would be happy that I was working to save the place. But instead, here I was, jobless. Not only had I lost my job, but I was about to lose the place that had been a sanctuary to me for so many years.

No good deed went unpunished.