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“Your blonde girl still hasn't been here, huh?” said Lute, laughing behind his hand. “She's not my blonde girl,” groaned Vaggie, annoyed. “I don't even know her name.”
Lute burst out laughing, “Then your pining is even more pathetic.” With a thud, Lute slammed a pile of books down on the table in front of Vaggie. “Those are the returns, clear them away.”
“Why don't you do it? I'm doing the statistics right now,” said Vaggie without looking up from the computer. “I have a meeting in a minute, and besides, I'm your boss,” said Lute, folding her arms in front of her with an arrogant smile.
“Fucking Adam in the break room is not a meeting.”
“At least someone's fucking me. It seems like it's been a long time since you last did, judging by how rigid you are,” Lute said spitefully.
Vaggie would love to wipe that damn grin off Lute's face, but she needed her job. Sera would fire her first before she would even consider firing Adam's bed bunny. The job was annoying, but it was easy enough and the money was good. Besides, there was ‘her’. The blonde customer who came in almost every week to borrow books.
Most regular customers had their niche; they borrowed books by a certain author, genre, or something similar. But not the beautiful blonde; she always had something different.
Sometimes a book on ancient history, then a book on religion, on architecture, a cookbook exclusively with tofu recipes, a book on crocheting plush ducks, and last time a novel by a new author. In short, it was always a surprise what she borrowed, and that made each of her visits exciting.
Vaggie had tried to assess the beauty in order to strike up a conversation with her, but she didn't know how. Of course, she could have looked up the blonde's name in the library database at any time, but that didn't seem right to her. She wanted to ask the blonde her name in the normal way; she didn't want to come across as a stalker.
With the carts full of books, she drove through the rows and put the books back on the shelves in their respective places or sorted them back into their correct sections. Sighing, she reached for a book titled “Rehabilitation: Is There a Way Up?”
Vaggie wasn't sure if she believed in second chances. She wanted to, for herself at least, but did that really apply to everyone? She climbed up the shelf. Yes, the book had to go back to its place on the top shelf. She would need a ladder for that, but it was in the break room, and she didn't want to go there under any circumstances.
So she would just have to stretch a little. “Come on,” she groaned, trying to push the book onto the shelf, but she was a few inches too short.
“Oh shit,” the book had fallen out of her hand. She bent down to pick it up and banged her head against something hard. “Ouch, sorry,” Vaggie recognized that beautiful voice.
“Are you okay?” asked the nameless blonde, and Vaggie forgot how to speak. “I hope I didn't hurt you,” she said with a laugh and patted her head, “My father always says I have a pretty thick skull.”
“Oh, nonsense, it's fine,” said Vaggie, who remembered how to speak again. “By the way, I'm Charlie,” said the blonde, who now finally had a name, and picked up the fallen book.
“Vaggie,” she replied, running her fingers through her hair sheepishly. She should have brushed it beforehand; it probably looked like a bird's nest. “I, uh, I know,” said Charlie, playing with the book in her hands.
“That's right, I'm wearing a name tag. Silly of me to introduce myself,” said Vaggie tensely, wanting to slap herself for her behavior.
No, well, God, this is embarrassing, but how can I explain it?" Charlie stammered, and Vaggie couldn't help but find Charlie even cuter for it. “I've been here so many times because I wanted to talk to you, but I never had the guts. I thought I could try using a book, but I didn't know what you liked. And what if you had noticed that I actually had no idea and then called me out for it? I wouldn't have survived that,” Charlie talked himself into a corner.
Her gestures were so frantic that she almost stumbled over her words. If Vaggie hadn't been interested in Charlie before, she certainly was now. Never before had anyone tried so hard to make contact with her. It only made Charlie seem even cuter and more likeable to her. “Charlie,” she interrupted her flow of words, “I'll be off work in an hour. Would you like to go out for something to eat?”