Page 26 of The Secret Librarian

‘Come this way, Mr Anderson,’ said a well-dressed man, presumably the restaurant manager, and they were whisked away to a corner table. ‘Your champagne will be with you shortly.’

‘Champagne?’ she asked, raising a brow. ‘Are you trying to impress me?’

‘It’s been a successful day, that’s all,’ he said, sitting back in his chair and flashing her a contented smile. ‘It’s also been a very long time since I had dinner with a beautiful woman.’

Avery knew she was blushing but she no longer cared.

She imagined that someone as elegant as Camille heard such words all the time, and Avery very much doubted she’d twist herself in knots about her face flushing.

She vowed to be more like her new friend and sat confidently, her shoulders squared as she smiled at her date.

‘So, tell me what you’re enjoying most about Lisbon,’ James asked as their waiter brought a bottle to their table and poured champagne.

‘The weather, the intrigue, the work, the people ...’ Avery grinned at the surprised look on James’s face.

‘Perhaps I should have asked what you’re not enjoying,’ he said, before raising his glass and touching it gently to hers when she did the same. ‘The list might have been shorter.’

‘Considerably shorter,’ she said with a laugh.

They both took a sip, and Avery couldn’t help but wiggle her nose when the bubbles tickled, which only made James smile all the more.

‘Tell me one thing you don’t like,’ he said, once they’d set their glasses down again.

‘I don’t like the letter I received from my boss turning down a request I made, when I know perfectly well how to do business here,’ she said. ‘But then that’s not really something not to like about Lisbon, per se.’

‘It’s very easy for someone in Washington or London to tell us how to do our jobs, but we’re feet on the ground here. Without being rude, I simply don’t think they understand the currency in a place like Lisbon.’

Avery took another little sip of champagne and found it slightly less bubbly the second time.

‘You requested items to trade, I suspect?’

She laughed. ‘I did.’ She wasn’t even going to ask him how he knew.

James leaned forward, his hand on the tablecloth only inches from hers. If she stretched her little finger ever so slightly, she would be able to touch his. It seemed he had the same thought, because he did exactly that, brushing the edge of her finger with his.

‘So what was your solution?’ he asked. ‘If that’s not classified information, of course.’

‘I wrote immediately to my sister and asked her to send a care package containing only Time magazines, chocolate bars and bubblegum,’ Avery said.

‘I was clearly told that such items weren’t an approved currency and wouldn’t be sent from Washington, but they never said I couldn’t give personal gifts to my favourite booksellers or newspaper vendors, did they? ’

James’s easy laughter sent a warmth through her, and she found herself bravely moving her little finger even closer to his so that they were looped together. But then he went still.

‘You have a bruise,’ he said.

She glanced down at her wrist, moving it slightly so the silk of her sleeve covered it. It was barely visible now, so she was surprised he even noticed it. ‘Oh, that’s nothing. A story for another day.’

He gave her a long, steady look, but he must have noticed it had made her uncomfortable because he smiled and leaned closer, deftly changing the subject.

‘We really should look at the menu,’ he said. ‘They sell out of all the best dishes most nights, and I’d hate you to go home hungry.’

Avery was happy to sit back and let James order for them, noticing that he held the menu in one hand, never moving his finger from hers even when their waiter returned to take the order.

It was then Avery understood that this feeling – the nerves in her stomach and the excitement at having her skin skim against a man’s – was what had been missing when she’d been engaged.

She could sit with James all night, their conversation easy and their laughter even easier.

She was halfway around the world, but somehow she’d never felt more alive, or more at home.

Or more attracted to a man.

‘I hope you like fish,’ he said, when they were finally alone again. ‘Because according to the waiter, it’s divine.’

Avery giggled.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘James, do you actually speak Portuguese?’

He cleared his throat and made a noise that she couldn’t decipher, which only made her laugh more. ‘I was certain it would be easier to pick up once I was living here, but in all honesty, I can only get by with the basics.’ He groaned. ‘He didn’t actually say that, did he?’

Avery shook her head. ‘He said he would have recommended the chicken, but I’m certain the fish will be excellent.’

This time when they both laughed, James placed his hand over hers, and his palm was still covering her fingers when their first course was served.

‘Avery, have you had lunch with your bookshop friend again?’

‘Camille? Not lunch, no, but I’ve seen her a few times.’

Avery glanced up at James as they walked. She liked James, a lot, but she also loved the friendship that was growing between her and Camille, and she wouldn’t say anything to him that might jeopardise that.

‘Do you believe she’s as she seems?’ he asked.

‘Is anyone as they seem in Lisbon?’ Avery teased. ‘It certainly seems there is a lot of espionage at play.’

‘ I’m as I seem,’ James said, leaning in and placing his hand over hers as they walked. She had her fingers looped through his arm, and now with him holding her hand she realised just how close their bodies were. ‘You can trust me, Avery, I promise. We’re both on the same side.’

She stopped resisting the urge to drop her head to his shoulder then and just did it, liking the feel of him, the warmth of him against her. Everything about being with James was new to her, and she found herself wishing the night could keep going, that it wasn’t almost drawing to a close.

‘You know, I think I can trust Camille, too,’ she said. ‘She’s a good person, James, and she’s doing good things that I can’t talk about. I promise you, she is.’

‘If you believe you can trust her, then so can I. You don’t have to try to convince me.’

She sighed and listened to his breathing as she leaned even more deeply into him, pleased that he hadn’t asked her questions about Camille that she wouldn’t be able, or willing, to answer.

‘Tonight has been quite something, Avery the librarian,’ James said, slowly stopping and turning to face her. ‘I would say a pleasant surprise, but then I had an inkling that it would be an evening to remember.’

He looked at her for a long moment before slowly lifting a hand and placing his palm gently against her cheek, cupping her face as he leaned down.

She tilted her chin, waiting for the moment that his lips met hers.

And when they did, it was so different to when she’d kissed Michael, the feeling going all the way to her toes as she slowly moved her mouth against James’s and he brushed his lips back and forth against hers.

‘Was that alright?’ he asked.

Avery laughed, and soon they both were, foreheads touching as they stood beneath a street light and caught their breaths.

‘It was definitely alright,’ she eventually whispered back. It had been much better than alright, it had been the best kiss of her life, although she wasn’t about to tell him that.

‘I feel like I’ve been waiting a long time for this war to be over, Avery, so that I can get back home, but now, I’m not sure I want it to be over so soon,’ he said, placing his hands on her shoulders as he stared into her eyes.

‘Because that would mean you’d be back on a plane to New York and I’d be headed back to London, and that would be a great shame indeed. ’

Avery bit down on her lower lip, catching it between her teeth. She knew it was a terrible thing to think, but she didn’t want the war to be over so soon, either. Not now that she was finally here, although she knew how selfish it was to even have such a thought when so many were suffering.

‘Well, we’d better make the most of our time here then,’ she said, wishing he’d kiss her again and then feeling sorely disappointed when he put his arm around her instead.

They began to walk again, her tucked beneath his arm, heads bent close, as if they were the only two people in the world walking the streets of Lisbon after dark. Until they neared the door to her apartment and she heard a man clear his throat and saw someone step out of the shadows.

‘Avery?’

She started, holding tight to James as she squinted, not seeing who it was until he moved into the light.

‘Tom!’ she cried, letting go of James and rushing forward to greet him. ‘What are you doing here? How did you end up in Lisbon?’

‘Long story, but the short of it is that I need my old room back. I’ve been waiting out here a while.’

‘You’ve been sitting out here all night?’

He grimaced. ‘I have. I was actually starting to consider booking a hotel room when you showed up.’

Avery looked back at James, waving him forward. ‘I forgot my manners with all this excitement. James, you remember Tom? You met when—’

‘Of course I recall.’ She watched as James shook his hand. ‘Good to see you again, Tom, and let me guess, you’re a librarian too?’

Tom’s laugh was easy. ‘Close. How did you guess.’

Then it was James who was laughing, and Avery planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. ‘All this time, you still haven’t believed I’m a librarian? Why is it so hard to believe!’

‘I promise, I believe you now,’ James said, holding out his hand to her. ‘But I fear this is goodnight for me. Thank you for a wonderful evening.’

Tom made a show of turning around and busying himself with his belongings, and Avery smiled up at James, having to tilt her head ever so slightly. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘It was my favourite night in Lisbon so far.’

James reached out and stroked a strand of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear, pausing before pressing a warm, sweet kiss to her lips.

‘Goodnight, Avery,’ he murmured, before taking one step backwards and then turning and disappearing into the night.

‘I see you’ve settled in then,’ Tom said with a grin when she spun around to face him. ‘You seem to have made friends.’

‘Not another word, or you’ll be sitting on the doorstep until morning.’

He clamped his lips together and made a little motion like he was zipping his mouth closed, and Avery just groaned and picked up one of his bags for him, happy for the company but also understanding how Tom must have felt when she’d showed up earlier than expected and he’d had to make space for her.

Because finding space for Tom to move back in again was going to be no easy task.

‘Oh, and Avery, before I forget,’ Tom said, puffing as he hauled his luggage up the stairs behind her. ‘Kilgour confirmed there’s to be no trades for acquiring publications.’

‘He said that to you too?’ she muttered, turning around to face him when they stepped into the living room. ‘He has no idea what we’re up against trying to get the material Washington needs. Trades would make acquisitions so much easier.’

She realised then that Tom hadn’t said another word, and she glanced back at him. Tom was surveying the room, taking in the stacks of books and small piles of Portuguese newspapers. Suddenly she could see the room through his eyes.

‘Funnily enough, I don’t think acquisitions has been so difficult for you, because I know for a fact that these weren’t left behind by the last guy.’

Avery ignored him. It had been the most magical evening and she wanted to keep hold of it for a little bit longer before addressing her slight issue of hoarding.

‘Come on, let me clear out some of my mess from your bedroom. You must be beat.’