AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I just saw your QuickStar reel. You can’t just quit.”
“I’m not quitting. I got fired.”
“I mean your Book Talk with Byron videos. You can’t stop posting. Please tell me you’re not just giving up.”
We stare at each other for several seconds. Half of my brain is concentrating on not letting my body be sucked into his sexy vortex, while the other half plays his words on a loop. Why does he care about my posts on QuickStar?
Then, it hits me.
“Oh, I’m so sorry if me losing my job interferes with you getting free publicity for your robot empire!” I don’t use my librarian voice. In fact, Sandra and Mike, two locals sitting inside the restaurant on the other side of the street, look up and stare at us.
Bryan shakes his head. “That’s not it at all. Look, I’ll do what I have to in order to make sure you keep posting ‘Book Talk with Bryan’—”
I don’t know what overcomes me. Actually, I do. It’s rage.
“Book Talk with Byron. By-ron.” I poke his hard, muscular chest with my index finger several times—just below the open collar of his dress shirt—as if trying to find his off button. And it seems to work since he stops talking.
The couples at all three tables in the restaurant window across the street are now focused on Bryan and me. I decide to give them a show.
I’ve just lost my job, why not my dignity, too?
I quote Jane Eyre in a decidedly unladylike volume. “Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong!” And then I add my own quote, too. “Robots don’t have dreams, but library assistants do. We dream of being able to pay our mortgage and electricity bill!”
I shout the last part as I storm off and turn the corner onto my street. I own a two-story townhouse, with a friendly family of three on one side and a lovely old couple on the other. I’ve lucked out, because both sets of neighbors are readers, and we often stop to chat about books when we cross paths.
I have a big mortgage on the house. Buying property seemed like a good idea when I put the down-payment on it last year. I really thought working at the library meant job security. Amelia always said I was a tremendous asset to the branch, and my performance reviews have been stellar. How could I anticipate I’d be replaced by a robot?
My heart sinks at the thought of having to sell my home. But what choice do I have? I’ll never find a job that has benefits and pays as well as a library assistant. There are so few job prospects for English majors. Literally, the only other job I can think of is writing a book—and that is definitely not for me.
What does that leave? Working two minimum wage jobs to pay my mortgage and bills? Selling the house? Applying to other libraries in other towns?
Even as the thought comes to me, I’m already pushing it aside. I grew up here. My entire life is in this little town. Are a robot and his egotistical inventor really going to force me to pack up and leave the life I love behind?
Tears stream down my cheeks as I try to get my key in the door. I don’t even realize someone’s behind me until a large hand grabs my shoulder.
I let out a shriek, turn, and try to jam my key into my attacker’s throat—but given how tall he is, and how uncoordinated I am, I end up grazing his rock-hard chest.
“Whoa.” Bryan raises both hands and takes a step back.
I should apologize, but I start to shout instead, “What more do you want from me? Haven’t you done enough?”
The oblivious billionaire opens his mouth to speak—probably to convince me to keep posting promo videos of his robot—but I don’t let him.
“Go away! You’ve ruined my life, and I never, ever want to see you again.”
BRYAN
My heart clenches at the sight of Jane’s tears. The way her face contorts as she glares at me hits me right in the gut. I want to pull her into my arms and comfort her, but she’s holding that key between us like a weapon.
“Can we please talk?” I reach a hand out instead.
Jane slaps it away. “Fuck off, Lord Bryan.”
I can’t help it that her reference makes me grin.
Jane’s scowl deepens, and she unlocks the door to her little house.
“Jane, wait,” I order as she steps inside. When I realize she plans to slam the door in my face, I stick out my foot to block it.
