Page 51 of Booked for Theft

THIRTEEN

I wondered what I’d find hidden within their pages.

Within five minutes of arriving at work and checking my work email, I realized I was in for a week from hell. Politicians from every level of government had swarmed, and all of them wanted to contribute to the library system. The New Yorkers of the lot came out in force with their wallets ready, and they wanted to contribute to a memorial plaque for Senator Thaddens, a lover of all things books.

None of the potential donors brought up the man’s politics, and they all mentioned his love of history and literature.

The remaining politicians on Dr. Castor’s list came armed with requests to donate during an in-person meeting along with inquiries on if it would be appropriate to offer personal thanks in the form of a book or two for my personal library as gratitude for helping Senator Thaddens final wishes come to pass.

Fortunately for my sanity, the President of the United States had been informed of such inquiries and had already sent a note to my boss that such things were permissible, including a note that the average book cost no more than fifty dollars for those wanting new hardbacks.

If President Castillo viewed books as being worth no more than fifty dollars, and that gifts of such meager value were acceptable, then I would pretend there was nothing amiss about accepting books from politicians.

Those bribing me with books went to the top of the list for personal meetings, and I sorted the rest by the value of their donation before diving into emailing and calling everyone back based on their preference. Most wanted an email or text, but four wanted calls, and they had been kind enough to leave me their schedule so I could reach out when they were available.

By noon, I had scheduled a lunch date on Wednesday with Representative Forsythe of Alabama, who would be in New York until Friday due to the funeral. Representative Dareth of New York had won points with me by inquiring if I might bring Bradley out to dinner. He wanted to try the dish that had made me cry, as rumor had spread I was a connoisseur of all things spicy. Then, because Representative Dimitris of Texas wasn’t to be outdone by some pesky northerner and had a friendly rivalry with Representative Dareth, I’d end up tangoing with both men at the same time.

They would be available on Friday night, and they wanted to prove their mettle to me of all people. As such, I’d made us a reservation for dinner at the Indian restaurant Bradley had found.

The last of the men left on Dr. Castor’s list, Representative Allany of Nevada, would be in town until Thursday afternoon, and he would be able to see me Thursday morning before heading to the airport.

All of them had brought at least one book for me.

I wondered what I’d find hidden within their pages.

By the time Monday evening rolled around, I’d managed to reply to all the inquiries, book the in-person meetings, and secure a little over a hundred smaller donations through sending the appropriate link. When I’d first suggested we have a donation page for each major contribution category, I’d angered the entire library administration from the comfort of my California hotel room. It had taken me an hour to convince them to do it, and it had only taken a week for them to see the difference.

Our acquisitions page received the most love, and our libraries would be monuments to knowledge for generations to come—assuming the government didn’t tear our society down around us. I worried that might be the case. As the final minutes ticked down before I was scheduled to flee, I checked my bank account to discover that my fiancé had been playing with money again, depositing thirty thousand dollars for me. Rolling my eyes, I called him.

“Are you working late tonight?” he asked upon answering.

“No. I’m checking my bank account and discovered you had been playing with your depositing privileges again.”

“If you hadn’t wanted me throwing money at you, you wouldn’t have given me your banking details.” He laughed at me. “Why were you checking your account?”

“I am going to the used bookstore on my way home. I wanted to figure out how much I could spend on adding to my empire.” I heaved a sigh to inform him I’d been pushed to my limits. “Please tell me you have no plans for Friday night.”

“I did not have any plans for Friday night. What’s happening Friday night?”

“We have a dinner date with a pair of politicians, both of whom wish to engage in culinary warfare. They will be attempting to survive the Indian restaurant. I made a reservation already, and I introduced myself as your fiancé, the insane woman who wants it spicier. They knew who I was. They referred to me as the Future Mrs. Bradley Hampton, and they laughed while doing it.”

“I was quite hopeful I would defeat you this time. And I did. I’ll admit, I’m a little disappointed that I did not become instantly married upon providing food spicy enough to make you cry.”

Well aware we would be processing our marriage documentation the same day as the engagement party, I rolled my eyes at his antics. “I’m pretty sure I confirmed our engagement party and the filing of important documentation. Also, we need the license, and I have a lunch date with a politician on Wednesday, and we’ll be near one of the courthouses that handle those papers. As such, I’m going to require you to be nearby so we can attend to that documentation on Wednesday.”

“I will enjoy adding you to my calendar on Wednesday. Are you prepared for some good news?”

I smiled at the thought of kittens. “If it’s about furry companionship for Ajani, I’m interested.”

“I took Ajani to the shelter where the litter of kittens is at, and we are now the proud custodian of two foster fails. There are not the original foster fails I was in talks with the shelter about, but I think you will find our new girls to be delightful demonesses out for our blood and home.”

The pride in Bradley’s voice did me in. “All right. Tell me how this came to be.”

“The shelter had all the candidates out, and there were two that had just been brought in from the street. They’ve been bathed, flea treated, and given vaccinations, but that was it. They were still wet from being bathed. Ajani circled the room, hissed at most of the litters, and stole a sopping kitten, carried her to the carrier, and put her inside before grabbing the second kitten and deciding they were hers. Fortunately, Ajani did not view me as a risk to her kittens, but the shelter workers got hissed at. Those are her kittens now.”

“Please tell me you recorded it.”

“I did record it. I’ll just apologize now, because by the time she stole the second kitten, I was laughing hard enough I snorted. I think she remembered being rescued when she was a sopping wet and cold kitten. They were wet, yes, but they weren’t cold. But Ajani was a superstar and got them groomed and dried off. Fortunately, they’re a little older, so we won’t have to worry about bottle feeding them.”