Page 22 of Booked for Murder

Our household? While the contract necessitated I live in the same household, it had been his household, and I had classified as nothing more than a servant.

“You’re an idiot, Janette,” Beatrice informed me.

Sometimes, I just couldn’t win. “You’re siding with him? Why would you even side with him?”

Beatrice didn’t know Bradley beyond his reputation of walking the straight and narrow without exception. His request proved he would dip his toes in murky waters if needed.

Most failed to realize he would get his hands dirty for the right cause until it was too late.

To my surprise, she smiled. “Would you like a list of reasons why?”

“No, but thank you for your most kind and generous offer. When you start making lists, I think about killing you, but then I’d miss you because I’d killed you, and that just makes me even more annoyed, as killing you isn’t an option.”

Beatrice cackled. “You’re such a bitch.”

I was.

Bradley considered me with an intrigued expression. Instead of commenting, he wandered around my living room and kitchen, examining everything with interest. “She’s incredibly stubborn, isn’t she, Miss Beatrice?”

“Preaching to the choir,” Beatrice grumbled. “I’ve checked the dictionary to see if they updated it to showcase her as the prime example of stubborn and prideful. They haven’t gotten the memo yet.”

“I’ve also been made aware of your somewhat turbulent relationship with Janette, and it seems those rumors are true.”

“It keeps things lively.”

“Will it be an issue should you have to work with her for an extended period of time?”

The last thing I needed was daily contact with my best enemy in the library system. We’d either kill each other or complete our transformation into a legendary nightmare of the New York Public Library. There was no in between.

Bradley flirted with disaster tossing us together.

“It’s not,” Beatrice admitted after a long enough pause to suggest it would be, but she’d deal with it anyway.

As I felt the same, I shrugged.

“Really, Janette?” Bradley’s exasperated sigh startled me. “I take my eyes off you for a few years, and you become a disaster on two feet.”

Before I could stop myself, I answered him with a disgruntled snort. In good news, I managed to bite back my retort, which involved having the freedom to pick fights with Beatrice if I wanted, and I didn’t need his damned permission anymore to do it.

“Maybe you two need an intervention far more than bitch lady and I do,” Beatrice muttered. “It’s like being stuck in a cage with a pair of hungry, angry lions, and one has a thorn in her paw.”

“The traumatic damage done to her foot is far more than a mere thorn,” Bradley replied. According to his expression, if he had my abilities, he would’ve put an end to Beatrice then and there. “If it could break, it was fractured, she suffered catastrophic muscle damage, and for the first month following the crash, it was unknown if she would even emerge from her coma.”

I scowled at his open exposure of my injuries despite it being the truth. “She is a bad friend, and I’m an even worse friend, but the only one who gets to bicker with Beatrice is me. It’s been a while since I’ve used my magic, but I’m willing to make a mess for a good cause.” To anyone else, the warning would’ve been classified as bravado, but Bradley narrowed his eyes, and after a moment of consideration, he nodded. “We fight. Get used to it. We fight loud, early, and often. I will resent anyone who prevents me from having my arguments with Beatrice.”

“It’s true. She goes out of her way to start a fight, and she’s usually doing it to snooker more money out of the library. They send her to do the branch’s negotiations.”

“Well, of course. She is experienced with the art of negotiation.”

“Only in that I’ve observed enough negotiations to learn the art through osmosis,” I complained.

“You can be one of the negotiators next time,” he promised.

“Next time?” I asked. “Have you forgotten I’m a librarian now?”

“You’re a librarian for now.” Bradley leaned over so he could regard my feet with narrowed eyes. “I will be apprehending you at some point in the near future to have that looked at.”

“I have a doctor here.”