Page 22 of Bookworm
I stood there, fake grin plastered on my face, palms sweating, looking completely guilty. “I’m working on restoring the damaged books,” I blurted out and pointed to the piles stacked across the room over my shoulder.
I shifted my weight back and forth, then crossed my legs to keep myself from nervously peeing my pants.
The man looked me up and down briefly, the smile spreading on his face. “Adam told me you might say something ridiculous.”
“Adam?”
“Yes. I’m Dr. O’Macklin, the head of the English department. And you’re Harper Meyers, I presume?”
Despite the fact that I was still wiggling like a dying worm on a hook, I reached out and took Dr. O’Macklin’s hand. “Yes, of course. It’s nice to meet you in person, Dr. O’Macklin.” I recognized the name from the email contracts I had received about this gig the morning after that dreaded phone call. “Where’s Adam?”
“He’s been held up by some students who wanted to go over their papers with him after class. So, he asked me to come relieve you so you could check to see if your supplies had arrived at your apartment yet. Thing is, you two don’t have to guard the books damaged by the fire. I sent out a notice yesterday to everyone who has a code to this room that it is not to be used until you are finished with your restoration.”
“Wait… so… no one is going to be coming into this room during the time that I’m here working?”
Dr. O’Macklin nodded. “That’s right. It’s forbidden. And if anyone other than me, you, or Adam does come into the room, please come tell me straight away. However, I have the app for the door lock on my phone,” he said, holding up his iPhone. “And it alerts me every time a code is used. So I’ll know if anyone uses their code to enter.”
I exhaled deeply and the tension in my shoulders relaxed for the first time since we knocked that bookshelf over. “That is such a relief. So… I can leave, right?”
“Absolutely. And you can leave any supplies here that you need so that you’re not carting them back and forth every day. Rest assured, your stuff will be safer here than in your apartment even.”
“Oh thank God. Plus, I have to peesobadly.”
He chuckled and gestured for the door. “Well, grab your stuff and go right ahead. Don’t let me hold you up. And nice job on that suffix of your adjective.”
I froze, staring at my bag.
The bag that now housed a damaged, expensive antique book.
I gave a nervous giggle that tittered, echoing through the small room. “Well, I did study at Oxford,” I said, with a not-so-humble brag. “They’d have a conniption if I didn’t get my suffixes right.”
“Noted,” Dr. O’Macklin said, his laugh booming like Santa.
He was waiting for me. Waiting for me to grab my things to walk me out.
There was no way to slip the book out of the bag and successfully hide it without raising some major red flags.
With trembling hands, I scooped my keys, wallet, and my Kindle off the table, shoving what I could into my pockets. Then, grabbing my phone, I paused the podcast that I’d been listening to.
Far more tenderly than a bag should require, I lifted the strap and ducked into it, carefully situating it on my hip. I didn’t have a lot in my bag, but even the tiniest thing could damage such delicate, old paper.
Cringing, I racked my brain, trying to remember if I’d taken my nail clippers out when I got to the apartment.
I could slip into the bathroom, wait enough time for Dr. O’Macklin to leave, then come back to put the book back into the room.
But, he’d just said he receives alerts and can see who uses their code for that room and when. How suspicious would it be if just after he walked me out, I went right back in? If he asked,I could lie. I could say I forgot something in there and had to retrieve it.
Yes, that would work.
Ithadto work.
He followed me out of the room, but didn’t shut the door behind himself. He just stood there, propping the door open with his foot.
I couldn’t leave Dr. O’Macklin in that room without me. No matter how badly I had to pee.
He pointed to the left. “The restrooms are just down the hall and on your right.”
I paused a brief moment, looking at his hand still on the door handle, foot propping it open. “Are you staying to work?” I asked, tilting my chin toward the open door.
