Molly rubbed the back of her neck. She and Adam had been leaning over the microfilm readers for almost two hours. They were slowly making their way through the summer of ’64, but they had to be thorough. And it was too easy to get distracted by the stories of the day. Every now and then one of them would read aloud an interesting tidbit.
Molly leaned back in the chair, giving her eyes and body a break from the task. The small room was stuffy and dimly lit to aid in viewing.
“Any luck?” She leaned toward Adam. He was on the July fourth issue of the Herald.
“Nothing yet. It’s rather tedious, isn’t it?”
“We don’t want to miss anything though.” She leaned in farther, peering at a photo of a bride and groom smiling at one another. “They look so young. They were probably just my age.”
“People got married younger back then.”
“That’s true. People are waiting longer these days. Especially in the city, I hear.” She caught a whiff of his cologne or soap, something manly and fresh.
He continued to scroll through the reel. “It’s true for the people in my circle. They want an established career before they settle down.”
“Not a bad thing, I guess.” She flickered a sideways glance at him, catching a glimpse of his profile, the light of the reader bathing his face in a silvery glow. “What about you? Any prospects in that department?”
He continued to scan the screen’s content, his fingers tapping the buttons to adjust the view. “Not really. Nothing serious anyway.”
She stared at his agile fingers for a moment. He had nice hands. His fingers were squarish, tapering down to nails that were clean and tidy, but not manicured. He wasn’t a rugged guy, but even so, he definitely wasn’t the salon type.
She wondered what Jordan’s hands looked like. She hadn’t noticed them last night except for the one thought she’d had early in their date—that those were the hands that wrote breathtaking stories.
“You?” he asked.
She looked at him, finding him closer than she’d expected. Her hand was on the back of his chair. She curled her fingers around the plastic back.
Was it warm in here? “I’m sorry, what?”
“I asked if there’d been anyone, um, special for you.”
“Oh. I haven’t really had time or opportunity to date since I returned from college. There was someone a couple years ago. We dated awhile but . . .” She lifted a shoulder.
“Didn’t work out?” he asked.
That overused phrase didn’t quite do it justice. “It ended badly. He just wasn’t who I thought he was.”
Adam cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, me too.” Her phone vibrated in her pocket with an incoming text.
She didn’t check her phone but leaned into the reader and continued on to the community section. She didn’t want to talk about Dominic. She may have gotten over him, but she lost a little piece of her dignity every time she recounted the story.
They’d met two summers ago when he visited her church. He was handsome and charming, and when he asked her out she said yes. He was easy to talk to and her family liked him. Skye was the only one with reservations, but Molly’s friend was particular. Molly had no reason not to believe he was who he said: CEO of a home health care company in Charlotte and owner of one of the new mansions on the lake.
For the first time in her life, she felt herself falling in love. It was an enthralling experience, just as the romance novels promised. She was dizzy with the feelings he evoked. She shared her heart, her thoughts, her vulnerabilities, and he shared his too. Or so she thought.
They were five months into the relationship when the real owner of the house, the real CEO, arrived and found them grilling out by the built-in pool. It had only taken a few minutes to realize Dominic was actually the property manager—and not even that by the time the homeowner was finished with him.
Molly and Dominic fought, and when she realized the depth of his lies, she walked away from him once and for all.
Afterward she was in shock. Levi had always called her idealistic, and she was beginning to think he was right. Still, Dominic had fallen so short of perfection, anyone would’ve been disgusted. She spent the next weeks sorting through the lies and wishing feelings could be blocked as easily as phone numbers. Skye had been a huge help in processing it all.
It took her a year to get over Dominic, but before her heart could completely heal, her parents died, throwing her into another tailspin. Who and what could she even count on? No wonder she was a bit of a mess.
“Hey,” Adam said suddenly. “Look at this.”
Molly leaned back over, her eyes following his index finger to the screen where there was a list in the sidebar.
She read aloud. “Benjamin D. Schwartz, 2nd place, smallmouth bass, 2.6 lbs. His middle initial!”
He shared a smile with her. “Bingo.”