Page 29 of The One Night Dash
“What do you mean,maybe?” Sofie hisses.
“Okay, yes,” I admit, cheeks warming, “but it was?—”
Hildy doesn’t wait for me to finish. She strides forward, still holding the cat, and extends her hand. “You’re Noelle, right? Look, I know you’ve probably got applicants who’ve logged years in retail or customer service, but I swear I’m the perfect fit for this place. I’m a PhD candidate at LIU’s Palmer School of Information Studies, based at NYU’s Bobst Library. I’ve still got a couple of years left before I defend, but right now? This is what I need, a real connection to books outside academia. I TA for two professors, which locks me up until three-thirty on weekdays, but after that? I can be here. Every evening. Weekends, too.” She says it in one rush, then adds quickly, “And I know that probably sounds like overkill, but honestly? This is exactly where I want to be. Books aren’t just research material for me, they’re … home.”
Claudia arches a brow. “She’s pitching you like she’s auditioning forShark Tank.”
“I don’t want to oversell myself,” Hildy says, though her wide grin, “But I also really, really want this job.”
Sofie leans an elbow on the counter. “You’re telling me someone as smart as you wants to workhere?”
“Hey.” I hip-check her. “Do not diss Pembrookes.”
“I’m not dissing it. I’m?—”
“Theory is fine, but this?” Hildy replies to Sofie’s question without hesitation. “This is where people touch the books. Educate themselves through another’s eyes, see their situation in a character who can help them see a path out. Where stories actually change lives. You don’t get that in a lecture hall.”
I feel something tug in my chest at that.
The cat squirms, and she sets him gently on the counter. Then she lifts her chin and delivers the final blow. “Hire me, and I’ll alphabetize your romances by trope in less than an hour. And I promise I won’t dog-ear the pages.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. “You’re hired.”
Sofie groans. “Seriously? Just like that?”
“Seriously,” I say, smiling at Hildy, who looks like she might burst into tears of joy. “Because anyone who calls a bookstorehomeis exactly the kind of person I want watching over mine. When can you start?”
“Now?”
“All right, how about tomorrow?” Angie, clearly the voice of reason, laughs. “We have paperwork to do before you start.”
As they walk toward the actual office, not my space upstairs, Nalani asks, “What about the cat?”
I lift the long hair fluff ball up and see he’s a nurtured male. “Ernest stays. Hemingway needs a friend.”
“Someone must be missing him.” Nalani pets him.
“When I take him to the vet, they can scan him and see if he’s chipped. For now, we can keep him safe and loved.”
“One step closer to being a crazy cat lady,” Sofie jokes.
EIGHT
DASH
The hotel roomis quiet except for the hum of the heater and the faint thrum of traffic below. Koa’s sleeping in the bed on the other side of the hotel room. I can’t sleep. All I can think about is Noelle’s dress getting to her before she leaves for Lauren’s wedding, and the fact that it felt damn good helping her out and real fucking bad knowing she doesn’t have it now.
Koa told me last night, after our win, that Nalani tried talking her out of going to Lauren’s wedding, that Noelle had a crush on Louie back then, and Lauren knew it when she went after him. Guy’s a nerd, but smart as hell and has been involved in tech start-ups from the get-go. She did that shit toNoelle.Sweet, pretty, smart Noelle.
When my phone lights up with Sal’s name at seven a.m., I head to the bathroom and answer on the second ring. “What’s up, Sal? Dress good to go?”
Sal sighs, and I know something isn’t right. “That dress that you and that very sweet, too good-for-you girl brought me? I did what I could, but there’s a stain near the hem and another just below the zipper. Protein stains that have clearly been there for years. They went unnoticed because our focus was on the coffee stains.”
I slouch against the wall. “You’re sure?”
“Kid, I could spot a coffee stain in my sleep. And let me tell you, this one’s not coffee; it’s protein, and it’s permanent.”
My gut twists when I think of Noelle’s face when she talked about the way the dress made her feel—it lit up like she’d won the cup.
