Evelyn Harper
The faint sound of my name pulled me from my thoughts. At first, I thought I was imagining it. The library was quiet, except for the soft scrape of a chair against the floor and the occasional murmur of patrons flipping through books. But then I heard it again, louder this time.
"Evelyn."
I glanced up, startled, to see James leaning casually against the library counter, his polished smile firmly in place. His sandy blond hair caught the afternoon sunlight, and his tailored blazer looked impeccable as always. James Calloway, mayor of Willow Creek and the boy I'd had a crush on since I was old enough to understand what a crush was.
"Lost in thought again?" he teased, sliding a coffee cup across the counter toward me.
"I've been busy," I replied, taking the cup hesitantly. The faint hazelnut aroma drifted up, warming me in a way that was both comforting and infuriating. James always remembered my favorite. He always remembered everything.
"Well, I'm glad I caught you," he said, his voice softening as he leaned slightly closer. "I wanted to talk to you about something important."
"What is it?" I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I already knew.
James sighed, running a hand through his hair in that effortless way he always did when he was trying to seem casual. "It's about the library."
"James—"
"Just hear me out," he said, holding up a hand. "You know I care about this place as much as you do. But the numbers don't lie, Evelyn. Attendance is down. People aren't using the library like they used to."
I bit my lip, staring at the coffee cup in my hands. I didn't need him to remind me. The attendance reports had been sitting on my desk for weeks, untouched. It wasn't that I didn't care—I just didn't want to face the truth.
"This place has so much potential," James continued, his voice taking on that persuasive tone he used in town hall meetings. "But it needs fresh energy. New ideas."
I stiffened. "The library isn't supposed to be trendy. It's a space for learning and reflection, not entertainment."
James smiled, but there was a hint of exasperation in his eyes. "I'm not asking you to turn it into a theme park, Evelyn. But if you want to keep it alive, you need to adapt. That's why I think you should work with Theo Sinclair."
"Theo who?"
"The new guy," James said, his smile brightening again. "He opened that modern book café, Chapters & Brews, a few months ago. He's been hosting these creative events—poetry nights, book clubs, that sort of thing. And people love it. He's bringing something fresh to the town."
My mind flashed back to the man who'd disrupted my crafting event just the other day. "You mean the guy who barged into the library handing out flyers?"
James chuckled. "That sounds like Theo. He's got a lot of energy, I'll give you that. But he's got good ideas, too. I really think he could help you bring more people into the library."
I wanted to argue, to tell James that the library didn't need Theo Sinclair or his flashy events. But I could see the determination in his eyes. James always had a way of looking at me that made me feel like I could do more, be more. It was part of the reason I'd liked him for so long.
"Just meet him," James said, his voice softening. "Talk to him. For me?"
"Fine," I muttered. "I'll meet him."
James's smile widened, and he reached out, lightly squeezing my shoulder. "You won't regret it."
The next afternoon, I stood outside Chapters & Brews, gripping the strap of my tote bag tightly. The building looked inviting, with its wide front windows and a wooden sign above the door painted in warm, earthy tones. The name was written in bold, curling letters, and smaller signs in the window advertised Poetry Night Thursdays and Coffee + Classics Book Club.
Through the glass, I could see shelves packed with books, their spines colorful and well-worn. Small tables were scattered around the room, each with mismatched chairs and tiny potted succulents. Toward the back, a café counter gleamed with polished wood and a glowing menu board listing drinks with names like Latte Lit and Brewed Awakening. The space was busy, alive, and effortlessly charming.
I took a deep breath and stepped inside. The scent of coffee hit me first, rich and slightly sweet. Low music played in the background, blending with the hum of conversations.
Behind the café counter stood a young woman with cropped brown hair and a bright smile. She was talking animatedly to someone as she poured a latte, her hands moving quickly and precisely. The person she was talking to turned slightly, and my stomach sank.
Theo.
He looked different in the light of his own space—more relaxed, more like he belonged. His black hair was tousled, and his gray eyes sparkled as he laughed at something the barista said. The tattoo sleeve on his left arm was more noticeable now, its bold designs running all the way to his wrist. He radiated energy, like he was in his element here.
I hesitated, wondering if I could slip out before he noticed me. But of course, that was when his gaze landed on mine.
"Librarian," he said, his grin widening as he leaned on the counter.
"Theo," I replied, my voice a little sharper than I intended.
"Didn't think I'd see you here," he said, straightening. "What brings you to my little shop?"
Before I could answer, the barista turned toward me, her smile widening. "Oh, you must be Evelyn! Theo mentioned you. I'm Mia."
I blinked, caught off guard by her friendliness. "Nice to meet you."
"Mia runs the café side of things," Theo said, gesturing to the setup behind him. "She's the real brains around here."
"And you're just the pretty face?" I asked before I could stop myself.
Theo laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Exactly."
I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling flustered. "James suggested we collaborate on an event," I said, trying to regain control of the conversation.
"Collaborate?" Theo's eyebrows lifted in mock surprise. "With me?"
"Yes," I said firmly. "Apparently, your… energy could be beneficial."
Mia snorted, and Theo grinned. "Well, I won't argue with that. Let's talk."
We moved to a small table near the café counter, and I pulled out my notebook, flipping to a page I'd prepared. "I was thinking we could host a reading marathon," I began. "Something simple. Maybe alternating between library and bookshop staff."
Theo leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "A reading marathon."
"Yes," I said, ignoring the skepticism in his tone. "It would focus on substance, not spectacle."
"Substance is good," Theo said, nodding. "But why not make it fun?"
I frowned. "Fun?"
"Yeah," he said, leaning forward. "What about a live reading competition? People could vote for their favorite reader. Maybe throw in some prizes."
"This isn't a game," I snapped.
"Why not?" he asked calmly. "If it gets people into the library, isn't that the point?"
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words stuck. He wasn't wrong, but the idea of turning the library into some kind of entertainment venue made me uneasy.
"We'll compromise," I said finally. "No competitions. But we can include some interactive elements."
"Deal," Theo said, holding out his hand.
I hesitated, then shook it. His hand was warm, his grip firm, and for a split second, something like a spark shot through me. I pulled back quickly, trying to ignore the tingling sensation in my palm.
"This is going to be fun," Theo said, his grin returning.
"We'll see," I muttered, gathering my things.
As I walked back to the library, my hand still tingled where he'd touched it. I told myself it was nothing. Just a fluke. But deep down, I wasn't sure I believed that.