Chapter One: A Woman of No Importance
As with everyday, a quietness settled over the library, blanketing the books and quieting my soul. I breathe in and breath out, letting the scent of paper fill my lungs. I held an old book in my hands, twisting a string on the damaged binding. The binding sighed as I opened to the first page, running my finger over the list of faded names running down the inside cover. I laid the book down in the corner of my desk, reminding myself to give it to the bookbinder later.
When I look up, I spot him for the first time, sitting against a wall. His long black hair falls into his face as he reads from a leather bound book. He chewed his lip, and pushed back his hair before turning the page. He held his book against his bent leg. His other leg stretched out in front of him. I felt my lips curl up, the smile hesitantly pushing its way on to my face.
A woman standing at the counter quietly cleared her throat, catching my attention. I looked away from the man to the woman, letting my smile stay. "Sorry. Did you find everything okay?"
The woman set her stack of romance novels down on the counter as I sat down, smoothing out my skirt. The woman set her library card on top of her books. "Yes. I just love Austen Patters. I can't wait to get to her new novel. It's coming out in three days."
"Austen Patters... I don't believe I've read her." I logged in and took her books from her. I scanned her card.
The woman looked me over and her eyebrows raised. "Of course. You are probably too young."
I let her comment roll off my shoulders and I scanned each of her books and stamped the due date in each. The woman tapped her fingers on the counter, only stopping when I pushed her books back to her. She picked them up. I smiled wider. "Have a nice day."
The woman walked away, not saying a word. The door slid open, letting her out. I pushed an escaped strand of hair back into the bobby pin on the top of my head. I rested my chin in the air, listening as the air conditioner kicked back on. Another locket of hair fell into my eyes, but this time I only blew it out of the way. I opened my newest book, flipping through the pages until I landed on my spot. The book was about a girl whose parents were getting a divorce, and, to deal with this, she goes on a series of misadventures with her dog named Mouse. Before long, my eyes drifted away, roaming the shelves of the library. From just this position, I could still see the man with the black hair, enchanted by his book.
The slunk by and the library grew darker without the light of day coming through the windows. As eight o'clock drew near, I counted only five people in the library, my manager, a boy at a computer, an old man drinking coffee as he read a newspaper, the man with black hair, and myself. I had been watching him for most of the day. I guess I just liked something about him.
My manager walked out of the office, pulling the book cart behind him with one hand, holding his coat and the library keys in his other hand. He rolled the cart up next to me. I smiled. "Leaving early, Stan?"
"Yes, if that's all right for you. The wife planned a big dinner for us and the kids." Stan smiled when I agreed. "Thank you. I'll trust you to lock up. Have a goodnight."
"You, too. Tell Shelia hello for me."
"Will do, Miss." Stan turned around and headed for the door. The door swished open and close for him.
I stood, pushing the book cart closer to the drop box. I opened the side door and pulled out the cart, gathering the rest of today's returns and placing them on the cart. I closed the side door and began my wander around the library, depositing each book in it's proper location. I avoided the black haired man, but studied him through the cracks between bookshelves. The light cast shadows across his face, sharpening his cheekbones and chin. Never before had I seen a man read with such infatuation as he had.
The doors slid open and close twice as the old man and the young man left. Five minutes to eight, I finished re-shelving books and pulled the cart back to Stan's office. I shut off the lights and closed the door, locking it. I jiggled the handle just to be sure. I turned and jumped. The man with the black hair stood at the counter, holding his book. He smiled. "Sorry, love. I didn't mean to scare you."
I smiled. "No, you're fine. How can I help you?"
His eyes were green, matching his shirt. The man set his book on the counter. "Actually, I was wondering if you were familiar with Oscar Wilde."
"I've read a few of his works." I stepped closer, my heart racing, wishing someone else was still here. The man pushed the book forward so I could read the title. "The Picture of Dorian Gray. Were you reading that this entire time?"
"I was. I found it to be ever intriguing. Would you recommend any of his other works?" The man smiled and I smiled back. A smile like that, I could see he didn't use it often, but he should.
"I would have to recommend his play A Woman of No Importance." I stepped closer, wanting to trust him, but the lump in my throat told me to stay away.
"I hope that is not a reflection of yourself, love." He looked down and noticed how far I was standing away. "I won't bite, I promise. You can come closer."
I stepped closer and the man held out his hand, palm up. "My name is Loki Laufeyson."
I laughed and put my hand in his. He bowed and kissed my hand. "Loki, like the Norse God of Mischief?"
"Something like that. My mother chose my name. My brother's name is Thor." Loki let my hand slide from his. My skin burned where his lips had touched me. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.
I let my eyes drop from his, shyly. "Like the Norse God of Thunder. Is your father's name Odin?"
"It is." Loki nodded. His chin raised, just slightly, his shoulders back, he had all the posture of a God.
I laughed. "You have to be joking. What's your real name? Really?"
"It is Loki. Now, what is your name? Loki's dark eyebrows raised.
"Imogen. My mother chose my name. But, all of my friends call me Jen." I said.
"Imogen is a beautiful name." He said. "I saw you watching me today."
Words caught in my throat, and I scratched the back of my neck as I looked down.
"Would you like to get coffee with me?" Loki slid his hands in his pockets, watching her with those green eyes.
"Yes. I would."
