Page 1

CHAPTER 1

Paige Turner frantically scrubbed at the wet stains dotting her silky, turquoise blouse. The cheap paper towel wadded into a clump, doing little to remove the muddy marks. Instead of lifting the spots, her blouse now sported beige flecks.

Her shoulders slumped as she fought the losing battle in the tiny bathroom stall. She glanced down at her ruined outfit. She couldn’t show up to her interview looking like this.

With renewed vigor, she whipped a fistful of toilet paper from the roll and tried again. Her elbow banged off the aluminum door as she wiped a spot on her skirt. She winced, rubbing at the sore spot and stomping a high-heeled foot against the grimy, tiled floor.

A chunk of chocolate éclair wedged behind the toilet caught her eye, and she grimaced at it, wondering who would eat within the filthy coffee-shop bathroom.

Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her flaming-red hair began to escape her chignon as she returned her attention to salvaging her outfit, cursing the bus that had sped past her as she stood on the street corner. It had hit the large mud puddle from last night’s thunderstorm with such intensity that the mud had splashed clear up to her thick, square-framed glasses.

Tears formed in her eyes as she tossed the wad of toilet paper into the toilet and collapsed onto the seat with a sigh.

She’d earned an interview for the position of librarian at the Shadow Harbor Public Library. She might as well kiss the job goodbye if she showed up like this.

And she needed this job. The three dollars and sixty-seven cent balance in her checking account necessitated landing it.

She sank her chin into her palm, letting her other hand drape over her knees. Should she go to the interview? She glanced down at her soiled clothes, filled with muddy stains and wet spots.

“Hopefully, it won’t matter,” she said with a sigh.

The door to the ladies’ room creaked open. The din of the morning rush at the coffee shop beyond floated in on the air. A pair of reptile-print, spiked heels clicked across the floor. The door to her stall jimmied as the woman tried to push inside.

“Occupied!” Paige called.

A disgusted sigh escaped the woman’s lips, and she stamped the red sole of her designer shoe against the cracked tile. “Are you going to be much longer?”

Paige knit her eyebrows, her nose crinkling. “There’s another stall.”

“Whatever. I’ll wait. Just hurry up, okay?”

She narrowed her eyes, offering a stony glare at the graffitied door. She tugged her arm upward to adjust her black, plastic-rimmed glasses. Her wrist snapped back before it reached her face. She yanked at it again, her forehead crinkling.

With a shake of her head, she closed her eyes, puffing out a long breath. Her bracelet had caught her hosiery. Pulling too hard would snag her pantyhose. Not pulling at all meant she’d have her wrist stuck to her knee.

“Hello? Are you coming out?”

“Yes, just a moment! My bracelet is caught on my pantyhose.”

Should she pull off the hosiery? Her pale skin, betraying the long hours she spent with books, changed her mind.

She leaned forward and squinted at the bracelet. Filled with eight charms, it had been the only thing left with her when she’d been dumped outside of a convent as a three-day-old baby.

Gingerly, she wiggled the small dragon charm. Its barbed tail stuck between the fine knit, refusing to come loose. Paige teased the tail from the fabric. It popped loose, leaving behind an imperceptible hole that would likely be covered by her pencil skirt.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she lifted her tote bag and stood. Her lips formed a grimace as she felt something race down her thigh, over her knee, and onto her shin. She winced, letting her gaze fall to her legs before she squeezed her eyes shut. A large runner in her stockings peeked from under her skirt and continued down to her ankle.

Her head fell between her shoulder blades.

“Maybe no one will notice,” she murmured as she tugged the door open. It stuck until she jimmied the flimsy aluminum loose, flailing her arms to stay upright.

With the door open, she straightened her open-front blazer and stepped out of the stall. The restroom’s other occupant eyed her up and down, an expression of disdain crossing her uppity features before she shoved past Paige into the stall and slammed the door shut.

Her chunky heels clicked across the stained tile of the coffee shop’s small bathroom. With her sore elbow, she pushed open the door and crossed the small cinnamon-scented coffeehouse.

Cars buzzed past as she stepped onto the sidewalk. Traffic had picked up considerably since she’d ducked into the popular shop one block from the library. How late was she?

She glanced at the large clock tower looming over the city’s center. Her jaw fell open as a groan escaped her plump, red lips. She slung her bag over her shoulder and sprinted toward the crosswalk.