The Librarian Principle (2 page)

He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You have nothing to fear. You’ll fit in perfectly here.” He inclined his head in the direction of the library. “If you find it helpful, we can discuss any additional questions after orientation.”

“That sounds great.” Liese gave him a genuine smile as he guided her down the hall and through the door, his fingertips brushing the back of her arm. The unexpected contact sent a shiver down her spine. He motioned to the right, where a table had been set up. Liese signed the attendance sheet while Ryder bent next to her and located her orientation package.

Unfamiliar colleagues milled about, many finding a place to sit. Worried about the seating arrangements and not knowing anyone, Liese scanned the room for empty chairs while also scoping out her coworkers. Her unease must have been obvious because Ryder took pity on her and introduced her to several staff members. She tried to pay attention to her colleagues’ names and disciplines rather than fixate on the number of times Ryder touched her arm. She was almost relieved when Harvey Little, the assistant principal, motioned him to the front of the room. Ryder flashed Liese an encouraging smile and joined his second-in-command.

Dry mouthed, she grabbed a refreshment and set her things down at an empty table. She didn’t like the way Ryder’s touch affected her ability to think straight. The raw attraction that accompanied such benign contact with him caused alarm bells to ring in her head. Having a good-looking boss was one thing; crushing on him was entirely another.

Liese pretended to be interested in her orientation packet to pass the time. She hated the initial discomfort that accompanied meeting new people. Her goal wasn’t just making friends; she needed to suss out her colleagues. High school teachers, like high school students, could be cliquey. The last thing she wanted was to take up residence beside the chatty teacher who would talk through the entire meeting and made her look bad.

“Hey, mind if I sit here?”

Liese looked up to find a tall, lean, well-dressed man with sandy blond hair and brown eyes smiling down at her. He looked safe. “Sure. Go ahead.” She returned the grin and motioned to the empty seats.

“You must be our new librarian.” He dropped into the chair opposite her and leaned back, stretching his legs out.

“Um, yeah, that’s me. How’d you know?” She held out her hand. “I’m Liese Harper.”

“Blake Stone, lone drama teacher.” He leaned forward and shook her hand before reclining in his chair once again. “There were only two new hires this year. The other guy teaches science, and I met him when I was grabbing a coffee,” he said.

“Oh right. Well, it’s nice to know I’m not the only new person here.” She glanced around the room. No one else looked as out of place as she felt at that particular moment. Nonetheless, Liese steered the conversation, asking questions about Blake’s program and what it took to run a full production as the sole drama teacher. “It must be a huge time commitment for you,” she prompted.

“Sure, but I love doing it, and so do the students, so it’s worth it. If you want to help out with this year’s play, let me know. No pressure, though.” He winked and looked over her shoulder, waving enthusiastically.

Liese turned to see a tall slip of a woman slide into the seat beside her. Her short blond hair was cut into a straight-edged bob, and thick-framed, funky glasses perched on her nose. “Don’t tell me he’s already trying to recruit you to help him with one of his plays. Don’t do it. Blake is a perfectionist pain in the ass. You’d think he was running Broadway or something with his diva attitude.” Authenticity was absent in her warning. She gave Liese a warm smile. “I’m Emily Captain. I teach art and art history.”

“Liese Harper, the new librarian.” She took Emily’s outstretched hand.

“Don’t listen to anything this one says.” Blake brushed off Emily’s comment. She retaliated by flicking a paperclip at him. Theirs seemed to be a long-standing friendship.

Conversation turned to summer holidays and start-up plans for the fall, with more teachers joining the table as it drew closer to nine o’clock.

Emily flipped through her package and turned it around to Blake. “Have you seen this? They haven’t tried to outlaw it, but they sure are making it a big deal.”

Highlighted by bright yellow paper was a photocopied article on workplace harassment issues, including a bolded section on inter-collegial dating.

Blake scoffed. “I bet this is because of that principal in Berks County.”

“What principal?” Liese asked.

“The one who got caught having an affair with a teacher,” Emily explained.

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t an affair. Neither one of them was married, from what I read, so that makes it a relationship.” Blake noted as he flipped through the pages of the orientation package.

He appeared uninterested in the topic, and Liese looked surreptitiously at Ryder. Her thoughts turned to the slew of images her best friend had been sending since Liese had accepted the position at FAHL. She’d gone on endlessly about Ryder’s attributes, both physical and intellectual, and in return, Marissa had indulged her with ridiculously porno-riffic pictures. Liese hadn’t thought it much of an issue until now. However, keeping a folder of doctored images featuring her principal might not be the most ethical practice.

“Whatever. Relationship, affair, it doesn’t matter either way.” Emily gave him a withering look and turned to Liese. “Can you even imagine?”

“Teachers date each other all time,” Blake replied, gesturing to the yellow sheet in front of him.

“That’s different,” Emily said.

“Not really.”

Emily ignored him and turned her attention to Liese. “I heard the principal was transferred to an inner-city school, and the teacher has gone on the substitute list and can’t get a contract anywhere. It’s all political.”

“They’re consenting adults,” Blake countered. “Personally, I would never date a colleague because it’s a recipe for disaster. But I don’t care what anyone else does, just so long as I don’t find them doing it in the staff room.” He twirled a pen between his fingers. “I think the whole thing is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous or not, two careers have been ruined because of it.” Emily lowered her voice further. “And I think you’re full of crap. You would’ve dated that history sub last year if she’d shown some interest.”

“Are you kidding me? Never. She wasn’t my type.” Blake wrinkled his nose. “Come on, Liese, you must have an opinion on this—”

Caught up in the sudden image of her and Ryder going at it on this very table, Liese sputtered. Before she’d recovered enough to comment, Ryder stepped to the front of the room.

His voice carried above the din, and conversation ceased as soon as he uttered a word. “Good morning and welcome.” All eyes moved to where he stood, posture relaxed. But for all his approachability, Liese could see and feel the way his presence commanded the staff’s attention.

He scanned the crowd while everyone waited silently for him to continue. When his eyes caught hers, she felt a flush of embarrassment reach her cheeks. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly before he cleared his throat and addressed the faculty. Liese leafed through her package as he spoke to avoid staring. Compelling and articulate, his charismatic presence made it nearly impossible to tear her eyes away from him. The smooth cadence of his voice made even the driest of school protocols seem riveting. She even stopped imagining him naked for a few minutes, she became so enraptured.

At the end of the meeting, the principal formally introduced both new staff members, which meant she had to stand up and address everyone. Though she spoke for just a moment, for Liese, wearing a wool thong to a marathon seemed comfortable in comparison. She was relieved when the staff began to disperse and chat amongst themselves, and the colleagues at her table invited her for a drink later in the afternoon. She readily accepted, eager for the security that came with a group of friendly peers.

Ryder approached her as she gathered her things. “Any questions?”

“Probably a million, but none I can think of right now.” She smiled.

“If you think of anything, you know how to get in touch with me. In the meantime, I’ll forward you the list of potential advisors, and we can discuss who would be an appropriate match.”

“Thanks. That would be wonderful.” Liese had no idea what he meant by potential advisors. She must have zoned out during that part. She made a mental note to review the package to ensure she hadn’t missed other crucial points.

Over the weeks that followed, Liese found she meshed well with the staff at FAHL, as Ryder had been confident she would. She had only two issues: first, even after Blake finally explained the role of a teacher advisor, Liese still hadn’t managed to settle on a candidate from the list the principal provided. There were plenty of seasoned colleagues to choose from, but her unique position made it difficult to find someone who fit her needs. By mid-October she still hadn’t made a decision.

Well, perhaps she had, but the one person she felt would be perfect for the role was the one she couldn’t ask. That person was also issue number two. Liese couldn’t contain her growing infatuation with Ryder Whitehall. The more she learned about him, the more alluring he became. And he made himself freely available to her as she settled into her new position; he was always there to answer questions and provide reassurance. Combine that with his admirable background in education and his authoritative, no-nonsense demeanor, and she practically melted whenever he came near her.

Late in October, he stopped by the library while Liese was cataloging new resources. As she stretched up on her toes to return a book to the top shelf, Ryder plucked it from her hand, his chest touching her shoulder as he shelved it.

“Thanks.” Her response sounded breathless.

“Any time.”

“How can I help you?” She needlessly rearranged several books, determined to avoid eye contact for as long as possible.

“It’s come to my attention that you still don’t have an advisor.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” Of course, that wasn’t even remotely true. She had been evading the topic altogether.

“So you’ve found someone suitable?”

Liese smiled at his phrasing. She found his formality charming. “Not exactly,” she hedged.

“Have you spoken to the staff members on the list I provided? Are you having difficulty finding someone to fill the role?”

“It’s not that. I mean, no, I’m not having difficulty. It’s just that what I need in an advisor isn’t quite . . .” Liese sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I know it’s not traditional, but I’m wondering if you could advise me. Your background supports the initiatives I’m interested in pursuing, and I already ask you all the questions I would ask my advisor. It could be a very informal role.” She stopped rambling and pursed her lips, unsure how to read his complete lack of response. “It was a bad idea, never mind.”

Ryder remained expressionless for a long moment. “Principals don’t typically take on advisor roles.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position, sir.”

Something dark flashed in his eyes, and his jaw tightened imperceptibly. “I said
typically
. However, I believe in this case I’d be willing to make an exception.”

“Seriously?”

“Mmm, seriously.” Ryder nodded, apparently amused by her reaction.

In a moment of impulse, Liese threw her arms around him. His body went rigid as she came flush against him, the air around them humming with energy. Lurid images formed in her mind, and Liese let go immediately, irrationally afraid he would absorb her thoughts through osmosis. She swore she’d felt his fingertips at her waist as she stepped away—as if he’d thought to hug her back at the very last second.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” Her face felt like it was on fire.

Ryder blinked twice, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice low and rough. He cleared his throat and smoothed his tie. “However, for the sake of propriety, I’d suggest any further displays of gratitude be saved for times when there aren’t witnesses.”

Liese glanced down the aisle, expecting to see a group of students with mouths agape, only to discover they were entirely alone. But it wasn’t hard to imagine the kind of rumors that would start if they were seen engaged in such a public display of affection, and between the stacks no less.