Beauty's Kiss(41)
“So you don’t love him.”
“I’ve been telling you that for weeks.”
Taylor felt as if a massive weight tumbled from her shoulders. She breathed in, and then out, and in again, feeling lighter than she had in ages.
“I wanted him to love me,” Jane added. “But apparently he felt more brotherly towards me.” She slumped onto the counter. “Do you know how often I hear that? Why do men just want to be my friend?”
“You’re smart. Ambitious. That’s scary for men.”
“Why?”
Taylor grimaced. “I don’t know. Men are stupid.”
Jane burst out laughing. “Did you really just say that?”
“Of course I don’t mean all men, but I think men are far more insecure than they like to let on. I just don’t think they’ve evolved as much as we woman would like to think they have.”
“Are you a feminist, Taylor Harris?”
“I don’t know if I’m a feminist or a realist. But I can’t help thinking that men might be hampered by all their testosterone, while estrogen allows women to be flexible. Because we have to be flexible. Our lives are all about growth and contraction.”
“I had no idea you were such a deep thinker.”
Taylor shrugged and smiled. “Book girls rule.”
Jane shook her head, smiling. “You’re a nut, and for your information, I wouldn’t have ever set him up with you, if I didn’t think you could be the right one for him.” She hesitated a moment. “Troy’s liked you from the beginning.”
“He didn’t even know me until he scooped me up on the side of the highway.”
“He knew about you long before that. Troy was a big part of you getting this job, Taylor.”
“What?”
“Come on, you knew that. He’s a board member for Marietta’s Friends of the Library—”
“I did not know that. I thought Cormac was.”
“Troy replaced Cormac over the summer. There was no way Cormac could care for Daisy and continue with working and holding volunteer positions on all the various non-profits, so he let most the volunteer work go.”
“Wait. I’m getting confused. Daisy isn’t Cormac’s daughter?”
“Daisy was the daughter of Cormac’s best friends, Daryl and April Wilde. Daryl and April died in that big accident on the Las Vegas strip last June. I’m sure you heard about it. The accident was all over the news. Now Cormac is raising their baby.”
“Wow. I didn’t know all that. And I definitely wasn’t aware that Troy had been part of the hiring committee.”
“He was one of the ones that recommended you.”
“There were some who didn’t want me?”
“There were some who thought the library should replace Margaret with someone older, and more mature.”
“Like Judge McCorkle, maybe?” Taylor muttered.
Jane’s eyebrows shot up. “How did you know?”
Taylor’s jaw dropped. “He wasn’t part of the hiring committee!”
“He was. Along with Annabeth Collier, Chelsea’s mom, Sharla Dickinson, the principal at Marietta High, and Samuel Emerson of Emerson Ranch.”
“Ella’s Dad.”
Jane nodded.
“How do you know all this?” Taylor asked.
“Committee meeting notes are always saved in a city Dropbox folder I have access to as Director for the Chamber of Commerce.”
“So you know Marietta’s dirt.”
Jane grinned. “I do.”
“People should be nicer to you.”
Jane laughed as she reached for her coat and purse. “Yes. Yes, they should.” She slipped her coat on. “What time is Troy picking you up tomorrow night?”
“Five forty-five, so we can be there at six, since that’s the start of the cocktail hour.”
“I’m planning on being at the hotel by five thirty. Just to be on the safe side. Mitch is going to meet me there since I’m going so early.”
“That’s no fun.”
“It’s okay. I don’t think Mitch and I have all that much in common anyway. He’s a sports nut and I like the arts.”
“He is a high school football coach.”
“Exactly. Good looking, hunky as heck, but once again, not the right guy for me.”
That evening at home, instead of curling up with a book, Taylor gave herself a manicure and pedicure as she sat in the living room with Kara. The TV was on but Kara was reading through a huge stack of legal briefs and Taylor wasn’t really paying attention to the television program.
“What color did you decide for your nails?” Kara asked, without looking up from her paperwork.