When I returned to the library Monday after lunch, I realised how much I loved this job after only a week of working here. The door chime greeted me with its cheerful tune and entering the premises, I felt right at home and eager to start work.

On my way home from the dinner with Dad, I had also decided I wouldn't let myself be pressured to meddle in Conny's affairs by Cat or the mysterious Luca. The first had a dubious reputation in literature at best, and the latter could be a psychopath or something worse for all I knew, despite his cute face and dimples. Not that I really believed it, but my resolution was set. If Conny and Paco were meant for each other, they wouldn't need anyone's help to find out, right?

As usual, destiny had her own agenda.

Paco arrived at two sharp in the afternoon, wearing his trademark faded jeans, a navy shirt and the most beatific smile with his two-o'clock stubble. "Hey, Lynn, how are you holding up?"

I felt my cheeks glow in an unexpected heat wave and tried to hide my embarrassment about the reaction behind my best professional expression. "I'm fine, thanks, getting used to the routine."

"Any trouble with that erratic lamp again?"

Taken by surprise by the question, I tried to remember. When had I been in the classic section last? "I don't think so—not that I can recall." Since I believed the trouble to be connected to our paranormal house guests, I hadn't lost further thoughts about it.

"Great, then we might have solved at least this problem."

"Yes, it seems so." I had no intention of discussing my suspicions that the cause for the flickering light might be of the supernatural kind instead of the electrical. If I went on about ghosts or visitors from the multiverse, this man I'd only met once would think me nuts, and that wasn't an option. "Shall I fetch Conny for the meeting?"

Without waiting for his confirmation, I knocked on the office door before I opened it. "Hey, Paco is here about the exhibition. Do you mind if we join you for a moment?"

"Let's talk at the front desk, so we don't leave it unattended. I'm on my way." Conny saved her file and picked up Marjorie's planner. She was right. One of us was supposed to be available to the library customers during opening hours. Fortunately, there weren't many around yet.

My coworker gave Paco a nod but didn't return his dazzling smile. Amber had been right. Either her mother kept him at a deliberate distance, or she was immune to his captivating aura.

"Fine, let me see what needs doing, Mister Martinez." All businesslike, she placed the planner on the desk and leaved through the pages. A vertical fold formed on her forehead while she ran a finger down a checklist done in Marjorie's neat handwriting, stopped at the end, and looked up. "We should be set on the front of publicity, I think. According to her notes, Marjorie already updated the homepage, mailed the invitations and announced the event to the relevant journalists last week."

Paco ran a hand through his unruly curls and studied the planner over Conny's shoulder. "Marjorie doesn't trust computers, does she? Well, I got contacted by two journalists last Thursday for interviews and also sent them samples of my work. Both promised to publish on opening day."

Great, at least I wouldn't have to worry about public relations on top of anything else—including dealing with a matchmaking cat and an ominous ghost. It seemed the unlikely duo was in for a real challenge if they planned on melting the icy shell Conny hid behind. My resolution to avoid getting involved in their schemes thickened—better to concentrate on my job.

I took a deep breath. "Please forgive my ignorance, but what else do we need to organise? Hanging up the pictures and making canapés for the apéritif?"

"More or less." Conny leaned back in her chair. "Although we work with a caterer, so there is no need to bring out the cooking skills. Still, someone will have to introduce the artist and hold an opening speech. That's not one of my talents and was always Marjorie's part."

Her eyes found mine, and my stomach dropped. "You think I should do that?"

Conny exchanged a glance with Paco and both nodded. While Cat probably would have rejoiced at this small sign of mutual understanding, it didn't make me feel better at all. Not about them developing a relationship, and certainly not about my role in the upcoming event.

But I was here to earn my keep, and if the job description said I had to deliver a speech, I would. "Fine, but please don't complain about the outcome—I might stammer my way through an awkward speech."

"Come on, Lynn, you did great with the kids last week. Danny adores you after your performance. This will be a breeze for you."

While I appreciated Conny's—and her son's—trust in my abilities, I still felt apprehensive. "Easy to say for you, and I value Danny's opinion, but fear he might not represent the average vernissage guest."

Paco's grin spread almost to his ears. "But children can be trusted for their honesty. In your place, I'd be more proud of Danny's approval than that of a stuffed politician."

He had a point, and I relaxed. "Alright, but you should provide me with some basic information to start from, Paco."

"Hm, what would you like to know?"

I shrugged, unsure where to begin. "I think it's common practice to start with a summary of the artist's biography. Also, it might be best if I see the pictures of the exhibition before I decide on the theme of my presentation."

"Sounds reasonable—it might be awkward if you talk about climate change in front of pictures of vintage cars." His wink sent another heatwave to my face while I tried to figure out if he was serious about the cars. I couldn't tell, but I hoped he wasn't. Then another thought hit. Could the pictures be nudes? No, not in a public place accessible to children.

He grinned as if he knew exactly where my brain had drifted to, but then had mercy on me. "Don't worry, I will send you a link and give you access to my collection. Marjorie and I selected the pictures, and the prints are being made this week, so we can't change much at this point. But I have two or three spares to exchange a piece that doesn't fit the room—or if the theme bothers you."

"That would be nice, and thanks, but I think I'm pretty tough if it comes to handle art." Still, I really hoped I could relate to his work. "I just would like to know what to expect—it's your exhibition, after all." I scribbled my email onto a sticky note and handed it to him. "Here you go."

With another wink, he slipped the note into his shirt pocket. "Let me know what you think. I'm curious. Anything else we need to discuss?"

"What did you have in mind for the catering?" Conny handed him a colourful leaflet. "This is the menu of the deli we usually work with."

Paco didn't even glance at the paper but put on a dazzling smile. "I'll leave this in your capable hands, as I'm sure you know best what works with the public attending such an event."

Her eyes widened. "Are you sure? Then I suggest the vegetarian choice, with rye bread and a local wine, perhaps? There is also a small brewery we might consider. I didn't test their beer yet, but Marjorie insists it is a treat."

"See? I knew you would choose the right thing. Thank you."

Conny shook her head and picked up the planner. "Alright, that went faster than usual. Do you mind if I leave you to discuss the technical details with Lynn? Just make sure you don't plan to hang the pictures during the busy hours or while we have a class visit."

We both nodded, and I watched Paco as his gaze lingered on Conny's back with dreamy eyes. His crush was even worse than I had thought at first.

As soon as the office door closed behind her, I turned to him. "You are quite fond of her, right?"

He sighed and rubbed his chin. "Is it that obvious?"

"To me, yes. But I doubt she knows."

"She's too caught up in her grief, and I respect this. Her strength and loyalty are things I admire about her." He stared at his hands for a moment. "But I shouldn't burden you with this on top of your workload for the exhibition, sorry."

As if I'd done something already. "It's fine—it's not my business, and I shouldn't have mentioned it. We were talking about hanging the pictures. What's the plan?"

"Oh, this should be no problem at all." He seemed relieved by the change of topic. "As soon as I get the prints, we might do a brief trial run and then hang them last minute in the morning before the opening."

At my sceptical look, he grinned. "I've done it before, don't worry. Together with Marjorie, we designed a clever system for this kind of event, and she always calls me in for the installation. That's how we got to talk, and she asked to see my collection. In the end, she offered me an exhibition of my own, which I'm very grateful for. I don't expect to sell many pictures, but if I can get a few orders, it will help me get a step closer to my dream of independence."

"So, this is a first for you?"

"Not really. I got fascinated with photography when I was a kid of ten or eleven, and I had the chance to show my work twice even before I finished school. But while people may admire the craft of a kid, they are more critical towards an adult."

As harsh as it sounded, I knew he was right. "So you buried your dreams?"

"Oh no, I couldn't. These days, I sell a few pictures here and there, mostly to magazines or illustrators in search of specific themes. But photography is far from rentable enough to earn my keep, and with the rise of artificial intelligence, it will get worse, I reckon. That's why I am grateful for the job as a janitor here and in the offices above."

"An interesting combination."

He laughed. "Not as wild as you think, and it has its charming moments, especially since it has the perk of working with you ladies. When I finished art school, I soon had to accept it is not an education that makes you swim in a lot of money. This job gives me a small but stable income, while it still allows me plenty of time to spend on the hunt for the perfect shot. It gives me more independence than working in a supermarket would."

I contemplated this for a moment. "You're probably right. I feel also lucky I found this library job, even if it's only temporary and some of my fellow students would look down on it. What does a degree help me if I can't pay the rent?"

"Exactly. But this reminds me I have to leave. It seems a toilet in the law firm's office on the second floor is malfunctioning. Can't let the posh people deal with the stench all afternoon."

He waved at me and was out the door, just to peek in again a few seconds later. "May I call you when I get the pictures for the trial run?"

"Sure, and good luck with the toilet."

He made a funny face, and I couldn't help laughing while he closed the door. The man was solid gold, and I couldn't understand why Conny didn't see it.