Hadley for you, not because I want a good man at her back. One I trust. One I know will protect her in the manner in which I’d protect her—that being by any means necessary. Maybe I want Hadley for you because I want a good woman at your back, too. One I know will light those shadows. One I know will do everything she can to heal the pain you have locked inside. There’s not a man in this building who doesn’t have demons. Not a man who doesn’t have the same nightmares you have. The difference for some of us is, when those nightmares come, we have exactly what we need lying next to us to help beat them back.”
With that, Jasper walked out of my office. I sank back into my chair unable to catch my breath.
Approval from Jasper Walker.
Jesus fuck.
A man who loved his children beyond reason. A man who wasn’t stupid, who knew exactly what giving his blessing would bring.
Hadley in my life, in my bed, and under my protection.
Protection I’d once failed to provide.
Nicole’s sweet smile came to mind and I slumped down further. I let the guilt fortify my resolve.
Why the hell would Jasper give his blessing to a failure?
8
I was seething mad as I made my way across the library to the circulation desk.
“Uh oh,” Ellen, who was working the desk, whispered, “I see you read the memo.”
“Yes. I read the memo.”
A memo that the library board had emailed stating that not only would the library not be purchasing new copies of the four books that had been destroyed but they were refusing to take the anonymous donation that replaced the damaged copies.
“Child,” Ellen drawled. “I see you’re all fired up. But you put those books back in circulation, you know the next email you get won’t be a memo. It will be a formal write-up.”
Ellen Potts was an older woman who had retired from teaching but found she didn’t like puttering around the house and her husband didn’t like to travel, which was how she’d prefer to spend her retirement. Since that wasn’t in her future, she worked at the library three days a week. This meant she was smart, observant, and had played by the rules for twenty-five years.
I didn’t play by the rules—not all of them, anyway.
Especially not the rules that removed books from library shelves. Not rules that forced someone’s personal opinion on others. There were plenty of books I personally didn’t like, didn’t agree with the message, or I plain thought sucked, but it was not my right to tell others what they could or couldn’t enjoy.
“Censorship is wrong,” I told her.
“I agree with you. But the library board has made its decision.”
“It’s wrong, Ellen. You know it. If we restricted access to every book someone had a problem with, we’d have no books.”
“I agree.”
I knew she did. I was preaching to the choir. The difference was Ellen had spent years in education, where she had to succumb to the demands of the board of ed or face the possibility of losing her job. She had told me plenty of stories about the criticism she’d faced when parents complained about her teaching style or they didn’t like the topics the curriculum covered. She’d loved her job, loved her students, so she’d given in.
I loved my job. I loved being surrounded by the written word. I loved losing myself in the pages and being transported into the universe the author created. I loved learning. I loved the creativity, the art, the beauty.
I loved it so much I was willing to face termination to stand up for it. To protect it. To make every book available to anyone who wanted it and I refused to allow my opinions color what others had access to.
I would abide by the ALA’s banned list because that rule couldn’t be broken. But I wouldn’t allow the county’s library board to strong-arm me into removing challenged books.
“I won’t be bullied,” I rasped, unable to keep the anger out of my tone. “I was taught to fight against anyone who wanted to oppress others’ rights.”
“Hadley, my sweet girl, don’t you think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill?”
“No. Because I know that molehill can very easily turn into a mountain if I don’t push back. What’s next? Travel guides to the Middle East? History books? The Bible? The Quran? Books about Buddhism? Mahatma Gandhi? Romance? Murder mysteries? The list is endless. This building affords