11. Tabitha
Amelia joins me behind the reference desk and grabs a new release from the book cart. “So are you and Cam still not talking?”
I scowl at my boss. Every day for the last two weeks she’s slid that into conversation, and every day for the last two weeks I’ve replied the same way.
”I am never talking to him again. He is a liar and I should never have trusted him.”
”He”s not like your father, Tabby. He?—”
Thankfully, a teenager approaches the desk, cutting off Amelia before I throw the withdrawn stamp at her.
She hands the boy a onetime computer use slip and grabs a barcode to stick on the book.
I grab a book from my weeding cart and wait until the kid is out of earshot before I hiss, ”This has nothing to do with my father.” I regret telling her about my childhood, but it’s one of the repercussions of being a librarian. When we sit together at the reference desk, the words just flow.
“But you’re acting like Cam betrayed your trust when he?—”
“He kept a huge secret from me for years. If that isn’t a betrayal of trust, then…” I realize I’m raising my voice, and drop it back down to a more appropriate whisper. “I don’t know what is,” I finish. “He knew—he knew how important honesty is to me. We’ve said a thousand times that we were completely honest with one another, but instead…” I groan. “Never mind. I’m over it—or would be if everyone. Just. Stopped. Asking. About. It.”
”Tabby,” Amelia takes me by the shoulders and looks me in the eye, “you are not even close to over it. You’ve got to get past this anger, try to make a deal with the devil, and cry before I’ll believe you’re over it. Trust me, I speak from experience.”
I shake my head because I know she’s right. ”Amelia, I told him everything. I told him every one of my secrets. There isn”t a single thing about me he does not know.”
”Even the time you got phished with an email that claimed it had control of your camera and recorded you?—”
”I told him.” I groan. ”He’s the one who helped me install new antivirus software—because I thought he was a tech support guy. And turns out he’s a billionaire!” I grab a few books off my cart while Amelia pulls out a stack of new barcodes from the drawer. “I thought he was still paying off his apartment, and it turns out he can afford a mansion like Jane and Bryan’s. How is that even real?”
It still hasn’t quite sunk in. I’d been so convinced Cam was writing fan fiction that he had to show me his publishing contract before I believed him. A publishing contract that had so many zeros my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. And if that wasn’t enough to take in, he told me he’s been investing that money in tech startups—so in a way, he is a tech guy—except for one minor detail… apparently his investments paid off. Big time. As in billionairelevels. Turns out the only reason he lives in his tiny apartment is he didn’t know how to tell me.
“It’s like I don’t even know him.” I slam the withdrawn stamp on the book in front of me with a bit more force than necessary. “Cam knows literally everything about me and it turns out I don”t know him at all. I thought he was my best friend and now…” I trail off as Sylvie approaches the desk.
I direct my attention away from Amelia. “Sylvie, would you trust a man who lied to you?”
”Hell to the no. I wouldn”t trust any man,” she says.
I give Amelia a pointed look that says, ”Exactly.”
“Sylvie, would you trust a person who lied to you?” Amelia asks.
Sylvie puts her hands on her hips and wrinkles her brow. “I’m no expert in relationships, but I do know this much: if Cam Gail lied to you, he had a good reason to. Much as I hate to admit it out loud, that young man is a good one. Now, do you happen to know where I can find that new murder mystery, the one with the red cover?”
“I’ll look it up for you,” Amelia says, turning the computer screen to face Sylvie as she runs a search.
They manage to track down the book in a few short minutes, and a satisfied Sylvie leaves me with a gloating Amelia. “If you can trust anyone, it’s Cam. Even Sylvie thinks so.”
I shake my head. “He”s a complete stranger, Amelia. All those times I was at his house and he said he was working, he was actually?—”
Amelia raises an eyebrow. ”Working.”
”All I can think about is whether he was writing sex scenes while I sat on his couch reading.”
Amelia smirks and mutters, “I’m sure he was.”
Of course he was.
My body betrays me by launching a kaleidoscope of butterflies in my belly as I remember how good it was with Cam. Kissing him. Touching him. Reenacting the scene from his next book. His book. “I don”t want to talk about this anymore.”
There are still two hours left in my shift before I can go home to a tub of peanut butter cup ice cream and a novel that was definitely not written by Abigail Cameron.
Amelia finishes with her new book cart and goes back to her office, but every once in a while she peeks her head out. I wonder who she’s looking for. And then I notice that the library is getting kind of packed for a Wednesday afternoon.
I cross the floor to her office. “Hey, what did I miss? What”s going on?”
“Jane is filming a special episode of Book Talk with Byron today. I thought I told you.”
I frown. I”m ninety-nine percent sure she didn”t. “I guess now is not a good time to take my break?”
“No, go ahead. I”ll cover the desk.” Amelia takes my spot and I stroll across the library toward the stairs. I almost make it when I”m intercepted by a familiar face.
“There you are.” Ruthanne beams when she sees me. “I was hoping you could recommend a book.”
“I was actually just going on break. Can you ask Amelia?”
“No, it has to be you. You”re so much better at knowing exactly what I like to read. I promise I won”t take much of your time. Just a couple of minutes. You don”t mind, do you, dear?”
Nobody can say no to Ruthanne. “All right. What are you in the mood for?”
“I”m thinking a second chance romance,” she says. “Something where the hero grovels, offers a swoon-worthy apology, and the heroine forgives the little lie that broke up the perfect couple.”
I narrow my eyes at her because this all sounds a little suspicious. “Unfortunately, I can’t recommend any books where the hero lies to the heroine. You know what they say—once a liar, always a liar—and any heroine who doesn’t know that is a fool.”
Ruthanne gets a twinkle in her eye, and I know for sure she”s up to something. “I love the stories with foolish heroines the most! The more foolish the better. Those are the absolute best second chance romances, since the passion is so high.”
“Well, if you knew the lie Cam’s been telling me since forever, you’d be upset, too,” I snap.
Ruthanne leans toward my ear and whispers, “The secret that he’s actually Abigail Cameron? I’m the one who drove him to that publishing house ten years ago, dear. I was with him when he signed that first contract.”
I almost fall over. “You knew all this time? You knew, and you listened to me gush about Abigail Cameron and make a fool of myself!”
“Now why would you think you were making a fool of yourself?” Ruthanne pats my shoulder.
I jerk away from her touch, and her smile grows. I wonder if I’d lose my job for screaming at a patron when it’s Ruthanne the Brash. I inhale a lung full of air, but she starts talking again.
“Is it because now that you know Cam wrote those love stories, you can finally see what’s been in front of you this whole time? Is it because it took a romance series featuring you, my dear, as the only woman the Duke has ever loved, to believe that you are worthy of that love? Is that why you feel like a fool?”
She places her hand on my shoulder again, and I let her. Images of all the hints Cam has made over the years that he’s wanted to change the status of our friendship play at high speed in my mind and my heart. Hints he wrote right into the stories he knew I loved and would devour right there for me to see, if only I’d known to look.
All the times he’s offered to take me out for a fancy night out and I’ve refused, not wanting to risk adding one more comparison to my long checklist of things no other man could ever do as well as Cam.
How he loved to watch me read romance books and asked me questions about what I enjoyed in the stories.
The way he always rubbed the inside of his wrist whenever I told him I had a date, that funny little thing that he said soothed him… oh my goddess… it’s true and I’ve been willfully blind.
“And the penny drops,” Ruthanne claps her hands. The air fills with the sound of “shh” all around us. “Oh, look—Book Talk with Byron is starting.” She gestures toward the romance section.
I frown. “I’m going on my break.”
“I heard today was a special episode. Come, let”s watch together.” Ruthanne takes my hand and tugs me toward the crowd.
I”m too tired and my heart hurts too much to argue. I follow her and hope that Jane”s episode is interesting, because I could really use a distraction. I spot Byron, the shelving robot, putting away some paperbacks. Jane pats him on the side and says something to him, but I”m so used to seeing our library assistant turned librarian talking to the robot that it no longer seems odd.
Nobody else seems to think it’s odd, either. Everybody gathers around, and then Jane turns to face us.
“Today we have a special guest with a very special announcement,” she says.
And then he steps out. Cam.
“Hello, everybody,” he says. His cheeks flush and he bunches his hands into fists, the way he”s always done when speaking in public.
Cam hates being the center of attention, and to see him so uncomfortable makes a part of me—that part that’s been his best friend forever—want to give him an encouraging smile and a “you got this” thumbs up. I look away instead.
Cam clears his throat. “Everyone, I need to come clean. I”ve kept a secret from all of you for close to a decade, and worse yet, I kept that secret from the love of my life. Tabitha Edwards.”
At his words, every single person in the library turns to look at me. Even those who don’t know me—which, in our little town, just leaves the tourists—follow everyone else’s gaze. I feel my cheeks burn, and I suddenly wish I could disappear.
Cam clears his throat, and people turn back to him. He looks like he wishes he could disappear, too.
“Tabby, I am so sorry I didn”t tell you my secret identity sooner.”
“Who are you? Superman?” a kid in the crowd yells.
Cam chuckles. “I wish.”
“I bet he’s Batman,” a teenage girl announces. “He only wishes he was Superman.”
A few people laugh.
Ruthanne gives me a shove forward, and suddenly everyone moves so that there’s a clear path between Cam and me. He catches my eye and I see a man who’s been trying to tell me who he was for years. I see it. I finally see it.
“Tabby, I swear to you, I wanted to tell you. I don”t want any more secrets between us, and I want to prove to you that you are not only the most important person in the world to me, but that I’d give up everything I have to convince you of that. Everyone, I have been telling you all a lie,” he pauses, takes a big breath and…