Page 4 of Bella and Her Beast
“It’s a beautiful day out, isn’t it?” I ask, throwing the question over my shoulder to him.
He doesn’t respond. He’s shaking his leg nervously, and his hands squeezes into a ball and relaxes. Classic signs of irritation or anger. Sensing that something may be bothering him, including me, I seek to assist.
Taking a seat in front of him, I lower my head to put my face in his line of sight. “Is there something I can help you with?” I ask.
His hand stops its previous action when he locks gazes with me. He removes the shades from his face and sure enough, those beautiful blue orbs are looking back at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were speaking to me,” he humbly replies.
For a minute, my words catch in my throat. This is the first time I’ve had a real close-up view of him and he isn't what I expected. Something about the way he looks at me stirs me deep inside.
The smile he casts with his apology holds me for a second.
“Hi, I’m Isabella. I’m the head librarian here. I just notice, well, we notice you come in here daily and you never speak, not that you have to or should. I mean, if you have nothing to say, then why would you speak.” I laugh and catch on to my incessant rambling. “Sorry. I am a proficient public speaker, yet for some reason, I cannot express myself well today. But if you need anything, just let us know.“ I quickly excuse myself from this embarrassing scene and head back toward the desk.
“Bella,” he calls. “I actually do need some assistance. Would you mind?” He stands and saunters to the other side, pulling out my chair for me to sit.
“I take my seat and I swear he sniffs my hair when he pushes it in before returning to his own on the other side.
“Yes, how can I help you?”
He stares for a beat or two, licking his lips before he goes to speak. “I was wondering, what do you know, or even think about folklore and if you believe it could be true?”
The subject isn’t surprising since a lot of the books he seems interested in deals with this very subject. “Not in the current day and age. I mean, people turning into wolves or vampires is a bit overreaching. I do believe in witches, or brujas as my Gigi calls them.
“Gigi?” he questions.
“Grandmother. She likes to be called Gigi instead of abuela or granny, or g-ma, as some may say. Is this why you only read these types of stories?”
“I’m a writer, so I’m gathering public opinion.” He smiles, and that pulls one from me.
“Well, in that case, for entertainment purposes only, I’ve always admired a wolf. Something dark, sexy, and mysterious about them. Plus, they say dogs are descendants of wolves and they are my favorite animal.”
“I like dogs too. Not that I’m putting out a resume or anything.” He does this nervous laugh thing that is part nerd, part sexy.
“I guess I should get back to my station, but if you need any help from me, just let me know.” I walk away for a second then turn back to him. “You can check that book out and take it home instead of coming in here every day,” I add.
“This is like my work space so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll keep coming.”
I shrug my shoulders and get back to the front, taking my seat next to Joy.
“You two looked awfully chummy over there,” she quips.
“I told you he was nice. He’s doing research on a project he’s working on.”
“What is he one of those paranormal hunter types?”
“He’s a writer.”
“Ooh, a writer, you say. Well, that’s just up your alley, now ain’t it?”
“Joy, please. You know I don’t do relationships.”
“No one said anything about a relationship. I just simply remarked that if he is in fact a writer, you would be all over him because of your love for the written word.”
She’s not too far off the mark. I love to read and to have a person who crafts words to build worlds and provide an escape at my disposal would make me the happiest person in the world. However, I shrug off her comment. It would be too forward of me to interject myself into his life. I run the reports for the late fees and prepare the system for the auto-dialer notifications and emails. With these tasks out of the way, I won’t be in a rush trying to close up by myself.
I scan over the inbox looking for material requests so I can print them and go gather the items. Joy is busy checking out the group of kids who just finished today’s story time. With all the special orders printed, I assist Joy.
“Oh, wow. This was my favorite book when I was a little girl. You’ll love it,” I say to the young lady standing before me. She has two long French braids with bows on the end and is wearing a cute little bright yellow shirt and white shorts. Her eyes are wide with anticipation, and I can sense her excitement.
