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“When I mentioned the Dubliners, you stopped. I take it you’ve read that too?” she pushed.
He shook his head, his eyes shifting to the books beside them. “I haven’t read them yet. I stopped when you said something I was unfamiliar with. I wanted to be a gentleman and let you pass and lead the way.”
“Maybe you just wanted to see me pass?”
Amelia immediately found herself blushing. She turned to her shoulder in disbelief that she had blurted such a thing out. It was unlike her, and not only had she never spoken to a man that way, but she also didn’t want to come across as being unprofessional to a customer either.
Instead, the man chuckled to himself and nodded his head. “You’re funny,” he said, turning to lean in and read her nametag. “Amelia. We need more librarians like you in this city.”
“How so?” she replied, not sure if she should take offense or not.
“You’re quirky, and clearly know your literature. May I ask a personal question? I don’t wish to impose.”
His voice was like velvet. Effortless, seamless, fluid and entrancing. Amelia would have confirmed with a fully formed word, but instead, all that came out was an embarrassing squeak followed quickly by a nod.
“A smart and beautiful woman like you, working in a library, without a ring on your hand. Do you not have a husband?”
Amelia swallowed the lump in her throat. She couldn’t believe he would ask her such a thing. It wasn’t that he was asking her a personal question. And she knew that he didn’t know her. But she never considered herself to not only look beautiful but to even think that someone else would have ever even wanted to marry her. The thought of it nearly made her laugh if it hadn’t been for the fact that this living, breathing, very real work of anatomical art had just complimented her.
Her.
“What the hell was going on?” Amelia thought to herself as she turned and began to check the books for where she was in the row.
Amelia couldn’t help but brush her hair aside and place a hand on her cheek. She could feel the warmth of the blood rushing to her cheeks, which were surely now an embarrassingly pink hue.
“I’m sorry if that was too forward of me,” he said.
Amelia shook her head. “No, no. You’re perfect,” she said, closing her eyes and wincing at herself. “I’m not married.”
“Boyfriend?”
She shook her head again.
“I’m alone. Just me, and my cat.” For a split-second, Amelia regretted that admission. What if he hated cats? Or worse. What if he stalked her home and was secretly some creep or serial killer?
Amelia’s eyes returned to the man’s face. She studied him for what felt like an eternity but was just a mere few seconds. If he really was a serial killer, she would be okay with dying at his beautiful hands. As ridiculous as that thought seemed, she knew that he wasn’t. She didn’t know for sure, but she could just tell by the way that he carried himself. He wasn’t hiding anything. He wasn’t some scummy person life randomly threw at you who would ruin your life. No. He seemed like a distinguished gentleman. Educated, handsome, beautiful, and into literature. He was, by all accounts and purposes, at least to Amelia and her standards, her ideal book boyfriend come to life. Like he was plucked out of her very own mind and placed right in front of her. It was as if every quality in a man she had ever dreamt of one having, had all manifested into the single body that now stood before her.
“Well, then, Amelia,” he said. “After you’re done helping me with my book search, would you care to join me in getting a cup of coffee? Perhaps we can talk about some more literature?”
Did he just fucking ask me out on a date?
Amelia felt dizzy for a split second. She had to lean against the bookcase but made sure she did it subtly enough that it wasn’t entirely obvious. The last thing she needed was to pass out or have her knees buckle and send her barreling down to the floor below. Knowing her, that would be exactly what would happen, and she wasn’t going to allow that. She couldn’t. She even pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming or making this up. That it wasn’t some figment of her imagination. Was she still asleep at home? Had she fallen asleep at the front desk and would wake up to find herself drooling and staring off into a non-focused nothingness?
Before Amelia could even respond, she nodded and found words coming out of her mouth faster than her brain could even decipher.
“Absolutely.”
The man smiled and outstretched a hand. Amelia stared down at his extended hand, forgetting every nuance of human interaction. She felt like she looked like a fool for the three seconds she stared at his hand in front of her before remembering how to be a decent human being and how to actually greet someone.
“Cassius,” he introduced.
Amelia swallowed a lump in her throat. His name was exotic, and somehow, was a perfect fit for his appearance. She had never met a Cassius before. She had never even seen one before, until now that was. And in so many ways, it seemed not just fitting, but like nothing else would have ever made sense. He certainly looked nothing like a Bob, or Richard, or Kevin. And he was definitely no Christopher, or Paul, or Jake.
“Amelia,” she returned as she shook his hand, even though from her name tag he had already known her name. Now it just seemed official.
“Well then, Amelia. It’s a pleasure to not just meet you, but to be able to take you out for some coffee afterward.”
Amelia smiled, unsure of what to say or how to respond. She had no idea how to form sentences anymore. And as smart and book-savvy she was, and as much as she loved literature and lived amongst a world of words, she just couldn’t get her brain to stop being a jumbled mess. It was like a train had run off its track. She knew how to function, but because she was derailed, she was confuzzled and the harder she tried to get herself back on track, the harder it just seemed to be getting.
