Chapter Five
Callie
The next morning, after managing to sleep well enough even after the drama of the “haunting” the night before, Callie woke up and showered in the en suite attached to her room.
She had to admit that however grumpy he might be, Trey did good work.
The high-end fittings, like a rainfall showerhead and towel warmer, might not be the kind of thing she remembered from her summers in Hilton Head when she was a kid, but as an adult, she could totally get behind the idea of turning a beach trip into something that was luxurious as well as fun.
When she and Stella wandered into the kitchen a short while later, she found Trey seated at the Formica table scribbling away with a stylus on a tablet.
He must have heard her sneakers on the cork floor, however, because without looking up he said, “’Morning; there’s coffee in the pot. But if you need breakfast you’ll have to go into town. I have a grocery order coming in from the store on the mainland but it won’t be here until this afternoon.”
Callie didn’t need to be told twice. She was already pouring herself a cup of what she could tell from the scent was the chicory coffee Khaki had introduced her to at one of the library meetings.
Adding a healthy dose of half-and-half from the cream pitcher on the counter, she took a sip and closed her eyes in bliss.
When she turned around, Trey was watching her with a speculative expression. “You act like you haven’t had coffee in weeks. There wasn’t a single Starbucks on your drive down?”
She leaned back against the counter and wrapped her hands around the mug she’d chosen from the collection near the coffee pot, which read, it’s decorative gourd season motherfuckers!
There had been a time when using a coffee mug with a swear word on it would have been a bridge too far for her, but she didn’t have to worry about little kids wandering in from the children’s room anymore.
Maybe she’d invest in a whole assortment of profane beverage-ware now that she was free of the restrictions imposed on her by the Cincinnati powers that be.
When she realized she hadn’t answered his question, Callie gave a little shrug. “I had plenty of coffee and soda on the drive down. I just need a little extra boost after the rude awakening last night.”
At the mention of the excitement in the stacks the night before, Trey scowled. “I can’t believe I never figured out where they were piping in the spooky sounds from before now. Meddling kids.”
Callie raised an eyebrow. “You realize you sound like a Scooby-Doo villain, right?”
“I’m not the villain here,” he said with a little bit more heat than Callie thought the situation warranted.
But then again, she’d only had to deal with one round of the unwanted Halloween cats.
From what Trey had told her last night, he’d been getting the haunted house treatment for months now.
“I should have reported them to the police chief weeks ago, but I didn’t really think it was worth the hassle.
But now you and Stella are here and, well … ”
He scratched the back of his neck self-consciously, and his face turned almost as red as the jazz fest tee he wore. “I could see how upset Stella was by the cat sounds,” he admitted with a shrug. “And it’s not cool to scare animals on purpose.”
Callie felt her heart warm at his protectiveness on her cat’s behalf. She wanted to tease him about it, but decided they didn’t know each other well enough for that kind of joking yet.
But Stella, clearly, had no such reservations.
Almost as if she understood what he’d just said, Stella jumped into Trey’s lap and reached up to paw him on the face.
Startled, he drew an arm around her to keep her from falling.
“Um, no problem,” he told the little cat, and Callie was just the smallest bit jealous that her cat seemed to be bolder than she was.
Then, as if her piece had been said, the cat turned and bit Trey’s arm.
“Hey!” he cried out. Callie couldn’t blame him, really.
Stella had sharp teeth. But when he raised his arm to inspect it, Stella jumped back down to the floor and took off out the kitchen door and into the hallway, like she was late for an appointment.
“Little devil,” he said, frowning after her.
Well versed in the unpredictability of cats, it was Callie’s turn to shrug. “She’s a female. They’re well known for not being as sweet as the boys.”
Trey looked surprised at this. “Then why don’t you have a boy?”
“That’s not how cats work. You don’t get to pick and choose. The cat distribution system decides for you.”
Still frowning down at where Stella had snapped at him, Trey said with a slight shake of his head, “Cat people are weird.”
“No weirder than dog people,” Callie said with a shrug. “We all have our quirks.”
“I guess so.” Pushing his chair back, Trey rose and tipped his chin toward her coffee cup. “You finished with that?”
At her nod, he said, “You can ride a bike, right?”
It had been years since she’d been on a bike ride, but she figured if the old adage was correct, she could answer in the affirmative. “Yeah, why?”
“I was thinking we could ride bikes up to town and get breakfast. I can introduce you to some people. If you’re gonna be here for a year, then you need to get your bearings.”
Callie frowned, wondering if there was some kind of catch. “I thought you believed I conned Miss Khaki out of this place. Why would you be nice to me?”
Turning from where he’d been rinsing out her coffee cup, he gave her an exasperated look. “It’s a bike ride and a couple of introductions, lady, not a marriage proposal.”
At his sardonic words, she drew back a little. “No need to be rude. I was just asking. And for your information, I can ride a bike. And there’s no need for you to lead me into town. It’s practically around the corner. I can find it on my own.”
“Of course you can,” he said, tossing the dish towel he’d been using to dry his hands onto the side of the sink. “But as I said before, we need groceries and I want breakfast too.”
Deciding to take him at his word, Callie went back to her room to change into something more suitable for the scorching weather, and soon emerged into the foyer wearing a fitted tank, high-waisted denim shorts, sneakers, and a visor.
She’d covered every bit of her exposed skin with sunblock given that she had the kind of complexion that blistered if she so much as glanced at a sunbeam.
Trey, who had only needed to change his shoes from flip-flops to sneakers, glanced up at her arrival and gave a quick nod. “Ready?”
As Callie followed him down the hall, she appreciated the way his shoulders filled out his tomato-colored T-shirt.
He was taller than most guys she usually encountered.
She’d guess he’d top her ex-boyfriend by several inches, though she’d always liked the fact that she and Gabe stood eye to eye when she wasn’t wearing heels.
She’d grown up around military men, and she’d always preferred not to be towered over.
Probably because as a tall woman herself, she was used to doing the towering.
Still, it was a novelty not to be the tallest person in the room. Even if it unsettled her a little.
When he unlocked a door that she hadn’t even noticed last night in their mad dash to the stacks, she raised her brows. “It’s a hidden passageway,” she breathed out, impressed at the craftsmanship it must have taken to build something like that.
“Khaki saw something like it in a movie once and convinced Uncle Remy to let her do one in here,” Trey said as he flipped on a light switch, then indicated she should follow him.
“It goes to the lower level, which is where we store the larger cleaning equipment, tools, old furniture, and beach furniture.”
He rattled off this list as they proceeded down the stairway lit with motion-activated lights, which came on and went off as they passed by.
“And this,” he said with a sweep of his arm when they emerged into a space that reminded Callie of a four-car garage, and where she saw a wide and sturdy table covered with woodworking tools, “is where I’ve been doing some restoration projects. ”
“Is that the original card catalog?” Callie asked when she saw the oak cabinet near the woodworking area.
It was clearly in the process of being sanded in preparation for staining.
She’d never been too broken up about becoming a librarian after the days when catalog cards had to be typed by hand, but she had appreciated the aesthetics of the old libraries.
With their lovely barrister bookshelves and highly polished oak card catalogs that could take up an entire wall, they’d seemed so much classier than the the tacky plastic-and-metal computer desks and shelving that had been the staples of the libraries of her childhood and teens.
The current fashion in bibliographic decor was no doubt doomed to be disdained by future generations, but it was, at least, a good blend of old and new.
“It’s so wonderful to see that you’re giving it the TLC it deserves. ”
Trey reached out to give the old cabinet a stroke—like one might give a beloved pet. “I’m pretty sure Khaki would haunt me if I treated this baby with anything less than the pampering it deserves.”
She heard the rueful tone in his voice and wondered once again why, if he was so fond of his great-aunt—and it was clear from everything he’d said and done that he loved her very much—he’d essentially ghosted her for the last several years of her life.
He’d clearly embarked on this renovation of the library Remy had bought for Khaki in honor of their meeting and falling in love at St. Ignatius College so many years ago.
And given the way that the other campus buildings had been demolished by multiple hurricanes over the years, Callie had a feeling that the library had needed a major overhaul even if it was the only piece of the college that had survived.
“I’m sure she’s well aware of the work you’ve put in, both here and in the rest of the building,” Callie said softly.
“Everything I’ve seen so far has shown you do good-quality work.
I don’t see why you aren’t in New Orleans making a killing in the construction business.
A contractor of your caliber can probably name his price. ”
One of her coworkers at Cincinnati Public was married to a home builder and from what he’d said the last time she was at their house for dinner, homebuyers were hungry for homes that weren’t the kind of cheaply made, cookie-cutter subdivisions being hastily thrown up in the suburbs.
A builder like Trey would be sought after in Cincinnati, and she didn’t see why New Orleans would be any different.
But at her words, Trey gave a snort of laughter. “That’d be fine if I was a contractor, but I’m not. And I don’t want anything to do with New Orleans. Especially right now.”
That startled Callie. “But I thought—” She glanced around the workroom and looked up at the ceiling, almost as if she could see through to the lovingly restored paneling and floors above.
“You thought you knew everything about me after, what, a whole hour in my company?” he asked with a shake of his head. “You might have known Khaki, Madam Librarian, but you don’t know me. And if you plan on sticking around here, then you’d do just as well to steer clear.”
He stalked out of the workroom and down the hall to another door, which he unlocked without ceremony.
She was reluctant to follow him inside after that outburst, which was just as well because he came out barely a minute later walking an old-fashioned, teal-colored women’s cruiser bike with a basket on the front and a bell on the handlebar.
Without stopping, Trey pushed it toward the end of the hall, where he held onto the bike with one hand while unlocking the double doors with the other.
This led them outdoors, Callie realized, as she followed Trey into what turned out to be the open garage area where she’d parked her car yesterday.
She was surprised to realize there was sand beneath her feet, though she supposed it shouldn’t be much of a shock considering where they were.
It was just that while she was inside the library, it was easy to forget that they weren’t on some college campus in the middle of a city or a small town.
Once she’d stepped up beside him, Trey handed Callie a bike helmet and a set of keys. “These open the double doors behind us and you’ll be able to get inside the library the same way we came down.”
“I thought you were coming with me,” she said with a frown, taking the keys and putting them into the belt bag she wore at her waist.
“I am,” he said with an answering frown. “But I have a few things to do here first. I’ll meet you at the café in about an hour. I just want to make sure you’ll be able to get back in the library if for some reason I don’t make it up there.”
Which was considerate, she had to admit, though she wasn’t about to tell him that. He was the one who’d been acting like a pill. “Thanks,” she said instead. Then, tossing her leg over the bike frame, she put on the helmet and worked at fastening the strap beneath her chin.
After a couple of minutes of Callie failing to get the strap threaded into the slider, Trey blew out a gusty sigh and batted her hands away so that he could do it for her.
His face was so close to hers that Callie could feel the heat of his breath against the side of her face, and see the small patch of beard growth he’d missed shaving that morning.
He smelled like sunshine and coconuts, a combination she’d never guessed would be so enticing.
And wow, did that thought pull her up short.
This man wanted her gone, she reminded herself.
And what’s more, he was determined to see her run back to Cincy with her tail between her legs.
Which she absolutely would not do. It was clear he resented her for what he saw as her manipulation of his great-aunt so she could get her hands on Khaki’s money and this library.
She might agree to let him stay here as long as it took to finish the renovations on the building, but they were not friends. And they certainly weren’t prospective lovers. She would do well to remember that.
And with an agreement between them to meet up in town later, Callie started out along the sand-sprinkled road.