I paste on my polite smile as the man shuffles up to the counter, which comes up to waist height. Now I can see his blue eyes are bloodshot and dark circles rim his lower eyelids.
"Good morning," I say. "How may I help you?"
"I am in need of information about alchemy."
He sounds British. I've met quite a few Australians who emigrated to North Texas, but this guy is my first Brit.
"Alchemy?" I say. "Let me check our catalog, but I doubt we have much on that topic. Most people check out novels or kids' books."
The man observes while I type keywords into the search screen on the computer. Just like I thought, we don't have anything about alchemy.
"Sorry," I tell him. "We don't have those kinds of books in our collection, but I could probably get some on interlibrary loan. Or you could try the research databases we have access to. I can show you how to use them."
"That would be brilliant. Thank you, Miss…"
"Allison Dahl."
He offers me his hand to shake. "I am Dr. Sefton Stainthorpe."
"Nice to meet you, Dr. Stainthorpe."
"And you as well, Miss Dahl."
"You can call me Allison."
He tugs at the collar of his shirt and clears his throat. "I prefer formality, if that's acceptable to you."
"Sure. Whatever you want."
I get to work collecting all his info to sign him up with a library card, so I can request books for him via interlibrary loan.
Dax interrupts my story. "Sefton lived in Texas?"
"He gave me a local address, but it could've been fake. The library didn't run background checks on patrons. May I continue?"
"Yes."
Sefton leaves with my promise to hunt down some books on alchemy. What an odd subject to study. Creating gold from lesser metals? It sounds like nonsense to me. No one can transform one thing into a completely different thing. Can they?
Maybe I don't get the whole alchemy thing, but I always do my job and go the extra mile for my patrons. Two days later, I phone Dr. Stainthorpe to let him know I've found several books for him as well as a ton of articles he can download on his home computer using the library's gateway. He asks me to print them out instead since he "can't understand the internet." Whatever. Printing out weird articles is part of my job.
A week after I'd first met Dr. Stainthorpe, he returns to the library to pick up the stuff I've gathered for him. I'm pushing a cart around while I reshelve books when Dr. Stainthorpe finds me in the stacks.
"How are you this eve, Miss Dahl?" he asks.
I suppress a chuckle. This eve? Nobody talks that way. "Is there any chance I can convince you to call me Allison?"
Shoulders hunched, he averts his gaze. "It seems inappropriate. We aren't well acquainted."
"We can change that." I pat his arm. "Let's be friends, hey?"
I swear his cheeks turn faintly pink, and he still won't look me in the eye. "Perhaps we could be friends. You've gone to a great deal of trouble to find those books for me. Might I take you to dinner?"
"Um…" Not sure if that's ethical or a good idea. But then, I don't have a great track record with men. Dr. Stainthorpe seems nice enough, but I've only met him twice and spoken to him on the phone once. Something about him makes me uneasy, though I can't put my finger on what it is. "Maybe another time. I'm always wiped out after an evening shift."
Yeah, I'm trying to let him down politely.
He looks disappointed and follows me back to the check-out counter in silence. While I scan the barcodes on the books I'd ordered for him, he keeps watching me. When I set the stack on his side of the desk, along with the papers I'd printed out, he scratches the back of his neck and almost winces.