Hidden Hearts. Olivia Dade

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СКАЧАТЬ mouse from her boss’s grip and exited the form without saving. “I’ll fill one of these profiles out on my break. By myself.”

      Angie’s lower lip poked out. “But I was enjoying myself.”

      “All by myself.”

      Satisfied that the profile-in-progress had disappeared forever, Mary settled back behind the circulation desk and gazed blankly at her computer screen.

      Online dating. She’d never, ever pictured herself trying to find strangers to date via the internet. But heck, it wasn’t as if she were locating lots of good options in the flesh. And she couldn’t help but be touched by her friend’s efforts on her behalf.

      Angie, who was rinsing an empty yogurt carton in the workroom sink, looked up when Mary spoke quietly. “I’m sorry I won’t let you help me with my profile. But thank you for caring enough to give me the kick in the pants I needed.”

      “No problem.” Angie tossed the carton in the recycling container, emerged from the workroom, and took a seat beside Mary. “You’re a wonderful woman and a stellar employee. You deserve to get whatever your heart desires.”

      The praise had her blinking hard for a moment. When she could see clearly again, she offered her boss a smile and went back to work, her heart warm through and through.

      “Do you want to take your break?” Angie asked. “I’m done with mine, so I can clear out the rest of the inbox.”

      A new e-mail from Mr. O’Connor had arrived. By this point, Mary was feeling somewhat proprietary about him. “I’ll take care of the last few messages before my break. I’ve been e-mailing back and forth with an elderly gentleman, and he’d probably prefer to keep dealing with the same person here.”

      When she read his latest message, she had to blink a few times to make sure she’d understood it correctly. The personal part was brief, as she’d come to expect.

      Info is below. THANK YOU.

      But according to his birthdate, he was only thirty-three years old. Not elderly at all. So maybe he was agoraphobic? Or severely ill?

      Poor man. Poor, poor man.

      She reached into a nearby drawer, removed a card, and opened up a new library patron file with a click of her mouse. And a few minutes later, she wrote Mr. O’Connor—Miles—back:

      Dear Mr. O’Connor: Your card number and password are below. I’ve also attached instructions for browsing and borrowing e-library books. If you have any difficulties, please feel free to e-mail me or any other staff member for help. We’re happy to assist.

      His next e-mail arrived minutes later, when she was in the middle of checking out a pile of children’s books. She clicked on it as soon as she could, eager to read his response. Surely he’d be pleased by his new card?

      Dear Ms. Higgs: You’re a goddess. Thank you.

      She beamed at the short missive. This. This was why she’d originally wanted to teach, and why she now worked at the library. The desire to help her community, instilled in her by both her parents, had driven her for as long as she could remember.

      And she knew it was selfish, but every time she assisted someone, that unwelcome restlessness deep in her bones seemed to ease. At least temporarily.

      Dear Mr. O’Connor, she typed back. My pleasure. Write anytime. You already know the general library address, and mine is [email protected]. Take care.

      “So, Mary…” Angie drummed her fingers against the circulation desk. “If you were picking new flooring, would you prefer a blond wood? Or something darker?”

      Oh, for pity’s sake.

      “I agreed to try online dating. So why not just ask me what hair color I prefer in men, instead of using some belabored metaphor?” Mary met her supervisor’s eyes and tried to remain firm. “And I’m filling out my own profile, remember?”

      “We’ll see.” Angie offered her usual blinding, confident smile. “How do you feel about reddish or gingery tones in wood? Like, say, a nice cherry color?”

      2

      FROM: [email protected]

      TO: [email protected]

      Monday, January 16, 2017 9:52 a.m.

      Dear Ms. Higgs:

      Sorry to bug you. Can’t seem to figure out what to do. Help?

      FROM: [email protected]

      TO: [email protected]

      Monday, January 16, 2017 11:05 a.m.

      Dear Mr. O’Connor:

      Please don’t apologize! I enjoy assisting people.

      I’m so sorry to hear you’re having problems. What stage in the process is giving you trouble? Browsing? Checking out? Downloading to your e-reader?

      If it’s any consolation, you’re not alone. We always get a flood of people after the holidays who need help with their new devices.

      Sincerely,

      Mary Higgs

      FROM: [email protected]

      TO: [email protected]

      Tuesday, January 17, 2017 10:07 a.m.

      Dear Ms. Higgs:

      Sadly, mine’s not new. I’ve just never put books on it by myself before.

      My stumbling block seems to be downloading. Later today, I’ll e-mail you with more information. Right now, too frustrated to type more.

      Thank you for your kindness. Please call me Miles.

      FROM: [email protected]

      TO: [email protected]

      Wednesday, January 18, 2017 8:55 a.m.

      Dear Miles:

      From the description you sent last night, I think I’ve figured out the problem. I’ve attached more detailed instructions below.

      If they don’t help, is there anyone nearby who can help you? Or did you just move to the area?

      Please feel free to call me Mary.

      Sincerely,

      The Librarian Formerly Known as Ms. Higgs

      FROM: [email protected]

      TO: [email protected]

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