Page 2 of From Wink to Kink

I stare at the note, my cheeks burning hotter than the library's ancient radiators. Tod, the IT librarian, has apparently dumped me via post-it. Tod, with his thick glasses and penchant for Star Trek ties. Tod, who pursued me relentlessly for months,showering me with fun facts about the Dewey Decimal System and invitations to LAN parties.

I'd finally agreed to a date out of sheer exasperation—and, if I'm honest, a smidge of curiosity. One awkward dinner led to even more awkward fumbling in the dark. Tod insisted on lights out, probably to hide his Spock pajama, and somehow, I'd found myself in a ‘romantic entanglement’ that lasted three excruciating months.

And now, thanks to his socially inept breakup method, the entire library staff knows we've been ‘doing it.’

I can hear the whispers, the ones no doubt shared as I made my way in this morning.

Can you believe it? Ruby and Tod? I always thought she had better taste in men... and cardigans.

My backpack and jacket drop to the floor. I take a few shaky steps forward and rip the note off my locker. Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. They’re not sad tears. No, they’re angry tears. Because I am fucking furious.

This is the cherry on top of the crap sundae that has been the last year of my life. After dropping out of college—turns out, interpretive dance wasn't the surefire career path I'd imagined—I was lucky to land this job. But instead of living out my librarian fantasies of recommending life-changing books and shushing rowdy patrons, I am the grunt-work kid.

Shelving books? My domain. Cleaning up mysterious stains in the children's section? Call Ruby. But staffing the reference desk, the holy grail of library positions? Fat chance. Not without that elusive piece of paper declaring me officially educated.

I take a deep breath. I square my shoulders. I won't let Tod and his post-it break me. So what if everyone knows about our sad excuse for a fling? At least I'm not like Howard and Tammy from acquisitions, who think their affair is a secret.Please. Their heated debates about the Oxford comma aren't fooling anyone.

I sear Matthew with a look, and he holds up his hands. “By the time I saw it, the damage was done. Everyone else had already seen it,” he moans. “I thought about taking it down, but figured you’d want to know how and why everyone knows.”

“You’re right. It was the right thing to do,” I say, swallowing my anger.

“I tried to catch you before, but I got caught up with someone looking for an old issue of the San Francisco Examiner.” Matthew looks at me, his big brown eyes filled with worry. “Do you want to talk about it? Hey, I could beat him up. Except, you know, us gay guys don’t really beat people up.”

Sighing, I step over my backpack and walk to the time clock. After entering my information and hittingsubmit, I wait until the screen displayson dutybefore I turn to face him.

“No,” I say honestly. “I don’t want to talk about it. And you don’t have to beat Tod up. I’m going to go hunt him down and shove this post-it note down his throat before I strangle him with his own tongue.”

“Wow. Vicious,” he says with a shimmy. “Can I watch?”

His eager reply gets a shaky laugh out of me. I take a deep breath, then another.

Get your shit together, Ruby. You have eight hours of work ahead of you. Focus.

I slam my locker door hard, harder than necessary, after stuffing it with my belongings.

“We’ll grab a coffee later,” Matthew tells me, patting my shoulder. “And, Ruby, it’ll be fine. I promise.”

“I know. Thanks.” I give him a slap on the arm as he leaves so he thinks I’m cool and not freaking the fuck out. With a deep breath, I lean my head against my locker door, the cold metal a shocking contrast to the explosive angry heat filling me.

From righteous to horrible in less than ten minutes.

As I march out of the locker room, head held high, a flash of color catches my eye. A brochure is pinned to the bulletin board, featuring palm trees and turquoise waters. ‘Escape to Enlightenment: A Librarian Wellness Retreat in Costa Rica,’ it proclaims in swirling script.

Who knew?

Without thinking, I snatch it down and shove it to my pocket alongside Tod's farewell note. I'll deal with him later. At the moment, I have books to shelve and my dignity to reclaim.

I refuse to give my coworkers the satisfaction of seeing me hurt and angry. Instead, I smooth down my appropriate-for-work black skirt, make sure my blouse buttons are not gaping, and give the new clogs a nod, as if affirming I still love them. With a jut of the chin, I paste a smile on my face and glide out of the locker room like I’m a queen about to greet her subjects.

Her Highness, Ruby Brooks, at your service.

I get a few more stares and whispers as I make my way to the return desk, where I’m stationed ninety percent of the time. Sometimes I work ‘roundup,’ which means I give everyone else their breaks, so I don’t have a set station. Rarely do I get to staff the reference desk, though. My dream job.

"Psst! Ruby!"

A hushed voice makes me jump, and I almost drop the stack of books I'm reshelving. I turn to find my coworker, Tammy, peering at me from behind a cart of returns.

"I heard about Tod," she says, her eyes wide with gossip-hungry curiosity. Most of the time, gossip is abouther, and her not-so-secret relationship with Howard. "Are you okay?" she asks, the corners of her mouth turning down in solidarity with my pain.

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