Page 15 of Bookworm
“Okay,” I said again. “Understood.”
It was a big lie. I didn’t understand anything. It definitely did not make sense that in all that time of being close they hadn’t hooked up… not when they so clearly had chemistry.
“Hey,” I asked, nudging his elbow. “What do you call five Siths piled on top of a lightsaber?”
Based on the way he sighed in relief, my effort to both lighten and change the conversation didn’t go unappreciated. His eyes narrowed and he pulled his top lip between his teeth in thought like he used to do when trying to solve a complicated calculus equation in high school. “Siths…” he said slowly. “... on a stick?”
I grinned. “Close. A Sith Kebab.”
“I’ll have to remember that one.” He gave a quick chuckle that sounded like a snort, then turned to a closed door with a keypad lock and handle, gesturing to it. “This is the rare books room,” he said, suddenly down to business and clearly not wanting to discuss Star Wars punsorJasmine any further.“You’ll be given your own code that you choose. Only you will know it. And we will link your thumbprint to the code so that even if someone else does gain access to your code, only you can utilize it.”
This level of security might have come as a surprise to most people, but at Oxford, we had a similar rare books room that was even more high tech and did a retina scan. Only four people had access to that room… the head of our graduate program department being one of them. And if she was bringing a class into the rare books room, our admission was heavily documented with a secretary there taking minute by minute notes of us from the second we entered to the second we left.
So this fingerprint coded door lock that you can buy off Amazon? It was small potatoes compared to what I was used to.
Adam hit some buttons on the lock, then gestured to it again. “Here you go,” he said. “Punch in the code you would like to use while you’re here working.”
I stepped forward and typed in 0720… it was the code I’d been using for years out of habit, but for the first time in seven years, I actually paused, inhaling a sharp breath at the meaning of those numbers. The meaning of that date.
July 20th. The day Adam and I first met at the bookstore.
The day was actually so much more than that. Yes, it was when Adam and I met. But it was also the first day that Addy and I bonded. The day she became like a sister to me.
And, as I came to learn later, the day she and my dad kissed in the back of the bookstore, forever ruining the history aisle for me.
Thank God Adam couldn’t see the numbers I punched in. Hell, even if he had, would he remember the significance of that date? Sure, it meant a lot to me, but for all I knew he didn’t remember anything about that day.
He might not remember the adorable way his glasses hung crooked on his nose. Or that he was easily four weeks past due for a haircut. Or that he wore a black hoodie with a red zipper that matched my black doc martens with the red rubber soles.
“When you’re done,” Adam said, interrupting my thoughts, “push your thumb onto the plate at the door handle.”
I did as he said until a loud click sounded and the door recited in its melodic robot voice:“Thumbprint detected.Please state your name.”
“Harper Meyers,” I said aloud.
“Harper Meyers,” the robot voice repeated. “Code and thumbprint recorded.”
Another series of clicks from the door, then the voice said, “Door Unlocked.”
Wrapping my fingers around the cool metal of the handle, I pushed down and opened the door, walking carefully inside.
It was smaller than Oxford’s, but grand in a different way. In a charming New England sort of fashion.
But something was off. There was a bitter scent in the air and when I looked into the corner, the wood wasn’t glossy and glistening with freshly cleaned wax. It was scorched. Blackened in the small corner.
The fire. Adam had mentioned some sort of fire yesterday when he picked me up from the airport. If only I could make my dumb brain remember the drunken conversation we’d had when I lived in London! My life would be so much easier.
I held the door open for Adam who still stood on the other side of the threshold.
He shook his head. “Close it and I’ll use my code to come in after you.”
Again, not all that surprising. Other than the fact that I would have suspected some sort of camera or something that could record if I bring a guest in with me. Hell, they might have that,too. I searched the corners of the room until I saw a small black orb in the far right corner.
I assume this meant that I wasn’t allowed to bring any guests in with me. Even with my code and thumbprint. While someone at a higher station than me probably was allowed to do that, I was a lowly conservator. A freelancer of sorts. I had no power. No clout. No station higher than hired help.
Moments later, the door buzzed and Adam entered, shutting it behind him.
“Are you allowed to bring your students in here?”
