Page 25 of Let's Talk About Love
Ten minutes later, Takumi called her name. She ducked down lower behind her monitor—a knee-jerk reaction. His voice saying her name made her stomach flip.
“Alice?” he asked louder.
“Yes?” she answered, eyes on her screen.
“Are you going to play music?”
“Oh, sure,” she said.
She plugged her phone into the small blue speaker Essie had purchased for the room. Without thinking, she pressed Play to pick up where she had left off this morning. The player kicked in at the chorus of “I’ll Make Love to You” by Boyz II Men.
Her heart stuttered and stopped. “Shit!” she exclaimed. She’d never moved to stop a song from playing so fast in her life.
He smiled. “Have a problem with Boyz II Men?”
“No.” There went her beloved boy band playlist. Alice adored cheesy love songs. Listening with Takumi in the room, however, might be her undoing. She selected another playlist, and the opening song from her favorite anime began to play, which was in Japanese. Stopping that one with the quickness, she covered her face and prayed to be put out of her embarrassed misery.
“What was wrong with that one?”
Alice answered, still using the monitor as a shield, “I turned it off before I could get accused of being culturally insensitive and then fired.”
Takumi laughed. “You can play the song if you want.”
“No, it’s fine.” She scrolled through her playlist, settling onInstrumentals, a playlist composed of blissfully wordless OSTs from movies.
Midway through the surprisingly quiet shift, Takumi left for his break. He hadn’t spoken to her again after the musical snafus until she told him to go. Alone in the basement, Alice spun in her chair, waiting for Feenie to text her back.
“How are things?” Essie called from the elevator.
“Fine.” She stopped midspin, pulling back up to the desk. “Takumi’s on break.”
“When? I didn’t see him come up.”
“He took the stairs for some reason.”
Essie used a paper towel to wipe the tabletop before sitting on it. She always sat with her head held high and her legs crossed not at the knees, but at her ankles. Alice’s grandma told her that’s how proper young ladies were supposed to sit.
(And then she would tease her grandma by saying she’d settled for being a heathen and would probably slouch until the day she died.)
“I didn’t really need to check on him,” she confessed. “It’s boring as hell up there.”
“Umm, it usually is,” Alice said.
“True. But today feels extra soul-sucking.”
Alice laughed. “Do you even like your job?”
“They pay me a decent salary, I have health benefits, and I’m one promotion away from running the place. What’s not to like?” Essie rolled her eyes, which made Alice think she was being sarcastic even though it didn’t sound like it.
“What made you want to be a librarian if you think it’s boring?”
“It wasn’t any one thing.” She gingerly flipped through one of the new arrivals. “After I graduated from college, I couldn’t find a job anywhere else and ended up getting hired here. My expensive new diploma earned me minimum wage. After a year of abject brokedom, I decided to go back to school so I could defer my loans for a bit. Cara suggested library sciences since I didn’t plan to quit, and six years later, I’m still here.” Essie closed the book. “Boring isn’t necessarily terrible. There are far worse jobs to have and a multitude of negative ways to feel about them. You’ll see when you’re older after a few more years of work experience.”
Alice schooled her face. She didn’t want to be disrespectful to Essie (somehow she managed to be both an almost-friend and a great supervisor), but shehatedwhen people pulled out thatyou’ll see when you’re olderline. How in the world was that supposed to be helpful? It was infuriating and condescending more often than not.
“In other actually interesting news,” Essie continued, “Takumi was asking me about you before you got here.”
“Really?” Alice perked up.
