Read It and Weep (A Library Lover's Mystery) by Jenn McKinlay Read Free Book Online

navigate as hostile ones. Sometimes it was just easier to hate your ex, but she didn’t hate Sully. Far from it.
    “Lindsey! Hello, earth to Lindsey.”
    She turned her head to find Ian standing beside her. Oh, no, how long had he been there? Had she really been staring at Sully like a lovesick twelve-year-old?
    “The set is really coming along,” she said, hoping he’d think she’d been scrutinizing their progress.
    “Yeah, I have a solid crew,” Ian said. “Especially that fine young man working on the steps there.”
    He had a twinkle in his eye when he pointed to Sully, which Lindsey chose to ignore.
    “So, what do you know about papier-mâché?”
    “For the set?”
    “No, for a donkey’s head.”
    “Hey, now, I know you’re sore at Sully and all—” he began but Lindsey interrupted with a laugh.
    “No, it’s for the character Nick Bottom. You know, the one that Puck sees in the forest and gives the head of a donkey,” she said. Then she grinned. “If it was for Sully, I wouldn’t be making the front end, if you get my drift.”
    Ian busted up with a laugh of his own and Lindsey joined in. At least she could joke about it. When Sully appeared on her other side, Ian took one look at his friend and laughed harder. Lindsey, on the other hand, felt bad and abruptly grew serious.
    “You okay, Ian?” Sully asked.
    Ian nodded, and visibly tried to pull himself together. “Could you show Lindsey the supply closet?” A snort escaped as he added, “She has to work on an ass.”
    Sully frowned and looked at Lindsey.
    “I need to make a papier-mâché donkey head,” she said.
    “Ah.” Sully nodded. He sent his friend one more concerned look and said, “Follow me.”
    The supply closet was tucked into a corner backstage. Sully opened the door and yanked on a string hanging from the ceiling. A single lightbulb lit the enormous walk-in closet and Lindsey’s eyes went wide at all of the stuff crammed onto the shelves.
    Half-empty paint cans, drop cloths, miscellaneous props, ladders, rolls of chicken wire and bags of plaster filled the space, with no rhyme or reason. The closet was just begging to be sorted, and Lindsey’s inner librarian clamored to be let loose.
    “Whatever you need, should be in here—somewhere,” Sully’s voice trailed off doubtfully.
    “Thank you.” They were standing side by side in the tiny room, which seemed to shrink the more aware Lindsey became of Sully. She would have taken a step away from him, but there was no place to go.
    “So, uh, holler if you need anything,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving finger trails in the thick, mahogany curls. He looked as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it.
    He left the room and headed back toward the loading dock. Lindsey stood in the doorway and watched him go, feeling forlorn.
    “So, it’s the boat captain,” a voice said from behind her.
    She turned to see Robbie standing behind her, watching Sully walk away. He took a long drink out of the water bottle in his hand.
    “I don’t know what you mean,” she said. She turned back to the closet, feeling the heat of embarrassment warm her face.
    “You have a thing for the boat captain,” Robbie said. He followed her into the closet. “That’s why you’re so resistant to my charm.”
    Lindsey said nothing, but began to dig through the shelves for supplies. This did not deter Robbie, who kept talking as if their conversation was still going.
    “I can’t say that I blame you,” he said. “He really is a handsome lunk, but he doesn’t say very much, does he?”
    “He doesn’t have to,” Lindsey said. She could have kicked herself. Now it sounded like she was agreeing with him.
    “Oy, so I’m right!” Robbie said. “Still, he doesn’t have my accent or my celebrity aura . . .”
    “Or your wife,” Lindsey added. She found a small roll of chicken wire and put it aside.
    “Kitty?” he asked. “We haven’t been husband and wife,