True believer - Nicholas Sparks [45]
“Hey there,” Lexie greeted him. “How’s it going?”
Jeremy turned. “Good. Thanks.”
She slipped into her jacket. “Listen, I was thinking about running out to grab lunch, and I was wondering if you wanted me to bring you something back.”
“Are you going to Herbs?” he asked.
“No. If you thought breakfast was busy, you should see the place at lunch. But I’d be happy to pick up a to-go order on my way back.”
He hesitated for only an instant.
“Well, would it be all right if I came with you to wherever it is you’re going? I should probably stretch my legs. I’ve been sitting here all morning, and I’d love to see someplace new. Maybe you could even show me around a bit.” He paused. “If that’s okay, I mean.”
She almost said no, but again, she heard Doris’s words, and her thoughts became muddled. Should I or shouldn’t I? Despite her better judgment—thank you very much for that, Doris—she said, “Sure. But I’ve only got an hour or so before I have to get back, so I don’t know how much help I can be.”
He seemed almost as surprised as she did, and he stood, then followed her out the door. “Anything at all is fine,” he said. “Helps me fill in the blanks, you know. It’s important to know what goes on in a place like this.”
“In our little hick town, you mean?”
“I didn’t say it was a hick town. Those are your words.”
“Yeah. But they’re your thoughts, not mine. I love this place.”
“I’m sure,” he agreed. “Why else would you live here?”
“Because it’s not New York City, for one thing.”
“You’ve been there?”
“I used to live in Manhattan. On West Sixty-ninth.”
He almost stumbled in midstep. “That’s just a few blocks from where I live.”
She smiled. “Small world, isn’t it?”
Walking quickly, Jeremy struggled to keep up with her as she approached the stairs. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope,” she said. “Lived there with my boyfriend for almost a year. He worked for Morgan Stanley while I interned in the NYU library.”
“I can’t believe this . . .”
“What? That I lived in New York and left? Or that I lived near you? Or that I lived with my boyfriend?”
“All of it,” he said. “Or none of it. I’m not sure.” He was trying to fathom the thought of this small-town librarian living in his neighborhood. Noticing his expression, she had to laugh. “You’re all alike, you know that?” she said.
“Who?”
“People who live in the city. You live your life thinking that there’s no place in the world as special as New York and that no place else has anything to offer.”
“You’re right,” Jeremy admitted. “But that’s only because the rest of the world pales in comparison.”
Glancing over at him, she made a face that clearly telegraphed, You didn’t just say what I think you said, did you?
He shrugged, acting innocent. “I mean, come on . . . Greenleaf Cottages can’t exactly compare to the Four Seasons or the Plaza, can it? I mean, even you’ve got to admit that.”
She bristled at his smug attitude and began to walk even faster. She decided then and there that Doris didn’t know what she was talking about.
Jeremy, however, wouldn’t let it go. “Come on . . . admit it. You know I’m right, don’t you?”
By that point, they’d reached the front door of the library, and he held it open for her. Behind them, the elderly woman who worked in the lobby was watching them intently. Lexie held her tongue until she was just outside the door, then she turned on him.
“People don’t live in hotels,” she snapped. “They live in communities. And that’s what we have here. A community. Where people know and care about each other. Where kids can play at night and not worry about strangers.”
He raised his hands. “Hey,” he said, “don’t get me wrong. I love communities. I lived in one growing up. I knew every family in my neighborhood by name, because they’d lived there for years. Some of them still do, so