Page 7 of The Arrangement (Executive Suite Secrets #3)

LIAM ROSE

It took some digging and intense internet searches, but Emily and her girlfriend uncovered that Rome worked at a small local library across the Ohio River in Northern Kentucky.

My brain still refused to believe what they’d found.

When we were kids, we’d given a lot of bullshit answers about what we wanted to do for a career, but never in my wildest of dreams would I have ever believed that Rome was a librarian.

He was too boisterous for libraries. Not to mention, he’d never been all that fond of reading.

I’d been sure that he’d end up working for his family’s company as some overpaid executive who did nothing.

But a librarian?

My brain still struggled with the information, but I was running out of time.

Dr. Case was getting restless with my lack of results, and there wasn’t an abundance of jobs for a paleontologist who specialized in the Ordovician period during the Paleozoic era.

Everyone was always more interested in the later periods, such as the Cretaceous era, which had the tyrannosaurus and triceratops.

It was fine. At least I didn’t have to deal with trying to unbrainwash all the kids who were convinced that all the big land dinosaurs existed at the same time and that the Jurassic era was the moment in history that had interesting dinosaurs. Thanks so much, Hollywood.

With no meetings and nothing pressing on my schedule, I drove over to the library where Rome was supposedly employed.

I figured I could at least check it out and see if Emily’s information was any good.

If I was lucky, he’d be there and I could spy on him, giving me the chance to compose the perfect approach.

Some way to ask for a donation while not giving up what shreds of dignity I still possessed.

Yeah, that was totally possible.

The drive across the river and up into the hills of Kentucky was pleasant as trees decked out in fall colors crowded the road.

Halloween was a few days away, and the temperatures had grown more erratic, jumping from summerlike highs and falling to where people were fearing the trick-or-treaters might have to contend with snow.

Everywhere you looked, there were smiling jack-o’-lanterns, black cats, and faux gravestones.

I thought I even saw a thirty-foot inflatable Frankenstein’s monster in front of one house.

A sigh slipped out of me as my brain inevitably wandered to Halloweens I’d spent with Rome.

After we’d become friends, his mom would always drop him off at my house, and we’d go trick-or-treating together because the houses in my middle-class subdivision were much closer, allowing us to run from place to place.

It had been about dragging in the biggest haul of candy.

By the end of the night, I’d be exhausted from running, and my stomach would be sore from all our laughing.

After that stupid kissing incident, I never went trick-or-treating again. I said it was because I was too old, but deep down, I always knew that it wouldn’t have been the same without Rome there to make his stupid jokes and speculate on which house was going to give out the best candy.

The female voice for the GPS issued instructions to get off the highway, snapping me from my wandering thoughts.

I followed the route for another ten minutes and pulled off at a nice two-story building surrounded by old trees and newer shopping plazas.

It appeared the region was still being transformed from farmland into subdivisions and shops.

My stomach knotted as I got out of the car and crossed the parking lot to step inside.

A pleasant hush fell over me and touched all the way to the bottom of my soul, reminding me of the blissful quiet of some of my favorite museums around the world.

It was the awed quiet that came when humans were in the presence of great history and knowledge. Or, at least, that was what I imagined.

It was a nice local library with warm, butter-yellow walls and beige carpeting.

On the left, as soon as I entered, was a couple of drop-off slots for books and other media.

It led to a small room with a couple of windows where I could see someone dutifully checking books in and sorting them.

In front of me was a round reception desk occupied by two librarians who were working at computers.

An older woman with shoulder-length, steely gray hair looked up and smiled at me.

I returned it with a nervous nod of my head and forced myself to stroll past her, trying to look nonchalant while watching for any sign of Rome.

I couldn’t let the bastard sneak up on me.

The first floor held the usual bank of computers for anyone who needed one but maybe didn’t have one at home.

A scattering of tables held a few people reading books.

And past them were the stacks. First the fiction shelves and then the nonfiction.

They even had a nice section for people who were doing genealogy research.

After peeking into a few of the other windowed rooms, I wandered through the stacks, trying to fight the urge to read the titles as I walked past them.

Now was not the time to locate a new book to read.

Besides, my residency was across the river in Ohio.

It wasn’t likely that I’d be able to get a library card here, anyway.

Maybe.

No. Focus! Rome first. Books later.

If I accomplished my goal today, I’d head to the library closer to my home and get a new book there. Or maybe six. Whatever.

The library was moderately busy for a late afternoon on a Tuesday.

A scattering of people sat at tables with stacks of books or even the paper, reading in the watery light that fell from the windows.

There were more seated in quiet areas between the rows of tall bookshelves, lost in stacks of fiction.

I inched along, peeking down the rows one by one, trying to make sure I spotted him first.

But no Rome.

It took me only three or four minutes to cover the entire first floor. Unless he was in one of the back rooms limited to employees, he wasn’t on the main level. Of course, there was a chance he wasn’t working today, and I’d have to keep returning until I caught him.

When I’d wandered through the main area, I paused near the reception desk, debating whether I could be bold enough to ask one of them if Rome was on the clock today.

The danger was that they would tell Rome later that someone had shown up searching for him, which would destroy the element of surprise.

They wouldn’t be able to give him a detailed description because I’d come to the library in disguise.

Fine, I wore a Cincinnati Reds baseball hat pulled low, a large black hoodie, jeans, and my thick black glasses instead of my contacts, but the important thing was that I appeared nothing like I had that night at the concert.

There was no way he’d know it was me who was looking for him.

Yes, this would be okay.

As I gathered up the courage to ask one of the librarians at the front desk, a loud cheer echoed through the open entrance area, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin.

I twisted to spot a set of wide stone stairs leading to the second floor.

The shout seemed as if it came from a group of children.

“It sounds like story time is once again a big hit,” a librarian commented behind me.

Her companion chuckled. “I thought Rome said he was planning to read the new dragon book we got in last week. He spent the morning practicing the voices for it.”

“I’m sorry I missed that,” the older woman murmured.

“You didn’t. I took some video. Let me get it.”

I tuned them out as my brain struggled to comprehend what I was hearing. Rome worked in the children’s section of the library? Just the idea that he had anything to do with children struck me as…odd. He was so evil. Heartless. Thoughtless. Selfish. How could anyone let him near kids?

Biting the inside of my cheek, I started up the stairs, slowing as I reached the top because I wasn’t sure if I was about to step into Rome’s line of sight. Meeting rooms lined the right side, and a children’s library and teen section were on the left.

In the children’s section, there were long rows of bookshelves, but they were much shorter for smaller readers.

On top of one bookshelf sat a giant blue dragon who watched over his hoard of books and littlest guests.

A mural of rolling green hills dotted with fall-colored trees.

Despite it being a cold and dreary day, the library was a warm and cheery escape.

A reception desk stood like a friendly guardian at the entrance, with a pair of librarians ready to greet everyone who entered, but they weren’t paying any attention to me. Both of them were standing and staring at the rear of the room.

I eased into the library and peered down one of the wide aisles to see at least twenty kids seated on the floor along with a scattering of parents.

All of them gazed up at the man in a blue plastic chair, holding a book in one hand.

Rome was dressed in a pair of brown slacks and a cream-colored cable-knit sweater that made him appear like a soft, approachable marshmallow despite his overall evil dark beard.

With all his focus on the book and the kids in front of him, I could look my fill and not worry about him noticing.

That night at the museum, I’d noted that he was still taller than me, but it was only by an inch at most. The prick must have gotten his growth spurt early, while what small amount I had hadn’t kicked in until I was nearly done with high school.

His brown hair was arranged in a high pompadour, as if the idiot was trying to give himself another inch in height, while his bright ocean-blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he read the book about the dragon.