Page 21 of Booked for Kidnapping

I resisted the urge to snort, as I witnessed, day in and day out, the consequences of poor education. One of my duties as a librarian was to help those lacking that education to get the learning they needed to be able to function in society.

Day after day, I questioned how much good I did, but I refused to quit.

My stubbornness proved to be my salvation as often as it proved to be a prison.

“That is but one facet of our duties as librarians,” I replied, wondering how people handled mincing every damned word as part of their daily life. “Whenever you’re ready, I have the wire information. Once the wire arrives, you’ll be issued your donation receipt.”

I still questioned how I’d gotten saddled with working with the library accountants on gathering and processing charitable contributions, but I refused to complain about it.

“Just give me one more minute. I’m just logging into my bank account now.” According to the sounds of his typing, the senator typed faster than most secretaries or played some sort of game that required he bang the keys at an insane rate.

I made a note to practice typing, as I wasn’t about to let some damned politician beat me at anything.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

I relayed the wire information, careful to repeat the account and transit information so it would reach the library’s charitable contributions account. I instructed him to leave his phone number in the additional information box so he could be texted with a copy of his receipt and given an option to receive another copy by mail or email. “It can take up to 72 hours for the wires to be fully processed, depending on the bank. If the bank is open, you’ll usually get your text within five minutes of the wire being received.”

“At this time of night, I expect it’ll happen sometime tomorrow. Excellent. My wife has already explained some of the financial burdens libraries face. She informed me the computer systems are often a significant problem, especially for the librarians themselves. Is this true?”

“Very. We often will try to make certain the computers the patrons use are sufficient, which results in the private computers having some issues in terms of age.”

“Well, I would definitely like for some of that money to be used to upgrade the computer systems, then. That’s important, especially when job searching. I’m certain the amount sent will be sufficient for that cause. Is it possible to put a placard up in memory of Senator Maybelle and Senator Godrin?”

“Absolutely. I can make the inquiries. I’ll bring a tablet to make notes of these requests. The library board needs to approve everything like that, but I don’t anticipate there being an issue with such a placard in a suitable location.”

“That sounds good. My wife had warned me there might be hoops to jump, but I’m relieved to hear you are willing to make the effort.”

I rolled my eyes at his implication I wouldn’t, especially when it involved paying the library money to upgrade the computers. “Such requests don’t take long to send over to the board. The library often refuses requests that are intended to support businesses, but memorial placards are often approved depending on the situation. We do bar mention of political affiliations, but as long as the memorial placards are neutral or leave a wholesome message, they are typically approved. When the library reopens, I can show you several we have in our branch. You can also go to one of the other branches the next time you are in New York to see how we handle them.”

“I think I’ll do just that. So, when would be the best time and place for a dinner meeting?”

“I’ll have limited mobility for the next few weeks due to my foot, so anything without excessive stairs. I can manage, but it’s not ideal.”

“Yes, I have noticed that New York is not precisely accessible. My wife complained about that, especially now that she has to use a cane sometimes. She broke her foot two years ago, and when the weather sours, she limps.”

Ah-ha. I found many people changed their tune when they had to watch a loved one suffer. The changes the Hamptons had made to their household after the accident reminded me on a daily basis that I’d become more than a purchased acquisition.

I needed to unload some of my personal baggage before it crushed me beneath its weight.

“Any restaurant with limited steps will be fine, although if it isn’t within a block of my home, I’ll have to make transport arrangements.”

“I would be pleased to pick you up for the evening. I’ll make sure I bring a car suitable for your needs. Do you think you’ll require a wheelchair?”

“It’s a possibility,” I admitted. “My doctor doesn’t want me to put unnecessary weight on it.”

“Does your chair fold?”

“It does.”

“I’ll make sure to bring the right vehicle. My wife is really good at that sort of thing, so I’ll impose on her before she heads out of town on a trip.”

“Thank you, Senator. That’s appreciated. Why don’t you pick the restaurant? According to my fiancé, if given the choice, I will go to my favorite Chinese restaurant every time, without variation, in an attempt to flash-fry my remaining taste buds. I’ve convinced him to try some of the gentler foods, and he is slowly coming around, but he has a long way to go.”

“I asked a restaurant once to make me the spiciest dish they could, and I had to ask for something to make it hotter,” the senator replied with pride in his voice. “There is a South Korean restaurant that makes stellar Buldak. Have you had it?”

“I haven’t had any type of Korean food,” I confessed.

“I’ll take you there. They have a dress code, but as long as you’re not wearing jeans, it will be fine—and I can warn them you’re suffering from health problems, so they’ll relax the code for you, I’m sure.”