Chapter 2

It was Lynn Lautrec's first week in her new job, her first job since graduating from State, a month before.

As number-one associate to the head librarian of the public library in Delmont, she took pains to look the part, to give every outward appearance of a young woman with a degree in Library Sciences. She pulled her long, dark, luxuriant hair . severely back, and fixed it in a bun at the base of her neck. She wore large, horn-rimmed glasses, although she needed eyeglasses about as much as she needed an extra asshole. She could spot a rising erection half a block away. But she stuck with the horn-rimmed glasses, theorizing that no man could get horny over a girl wearing horn-rims.

Not that she was against sex in her new life. Cod knows she'd had an active and 'joyous sex life through her four years at college, to say nothing of the high school semesters before. But life at college had been free-swinging, liberated, and both disapproval and gossip had been as obsolete as the mandolin, the running board, and Yes We Have No Bananas.

But Delmont, Lynn knew from experience, would be different. Delmont was a small town, not much larger than the town she'd grown up in, where the Too-Loose Lautrec nickname had been pinned on her so unjustly. It had been a tough nickname to shake, even though now it existed only in Lynn's head. So she decided she'd be a model of discretion in her new job, her new life--particularly in how she looked So she dressed and walked and talked the part of the sexless librarian.

She hoped, all through that first week, that she was playing the role well.

But it wasn't always easy. Especially around the tall high school senior who helped around the library, putting books back on shelves after school hours. His yearning glances toward Lynn made it all too clear that he saw through her disguise.

She managed to ignore him and his glances all through that first week. But sometimes it was difficult. He was not only tall and lean and muscular, and walked with the grace of a jungle cat, but he stood very erect, as if in evidence of inner pride.

More and more often,. Lynn found herself wondering if his cock stood so tall and erect on specific occasions.

And she wondered, unavoidably, if that's what he stood so proud of.

The only man she unbent with at all, enough to appear friendly, was a man named McNally, who seemed to be quite a reader for that town. He came into the library almost every day that first week she was there, returning or taking out books.

He was a pleasant, friendly man, with a good sense of humor, and Cod knows to return his friendliness couldn't have started any gossip, or have given anybody any ideas. Especially McNally him-self.

Mr. MacNally was a chunky, middle-aged widower with a graying beard who taught English at Delmont High School. That's all Lynn had learned about him when he stopped at the desk around dosing time on that first Thursday afternoon.

"It's good to see that somebody still reads Ring Lardner," she said, stamping the card of the book he was taking out. "In fact, in this town, it's nice to see that anyone reads anything at all."

He grinned at her. He had a nice grin, framed in the trimmed hedge of his beard.

"You sized this town up pretty quick," he said. "I didn't mean.... "

"Don't apologize. You've sized it up right. For anyone my age who can't stomach television, there's nothing else to do in this town but read. And play poker."

"I love poker," Lynn said, keeping her voice. library-low, even though there was nobody else around. "Or I used to, when I was a kid."

"Play a lot of poker when you were a kid?" Mr. McNally looked amused.

"No. I used to love to watch, when my father and his friends played." Her stepfather, but she didn't see any point in going into that. "I used to love to watch the men's faces when they played. They were so serious and intent, and then when a hand was over, and they relaxed and sipped their drinks and laughed, they were so different. It was like the sun coming up after a cold black night."

"I never knew anyone who found any poetry in poker," McNally said, looking at her without smiling.

"I didn't think there was anything poetic about it. I just liked watching."

"Well, young lady," Mr. McNally said, picking up his volume of Lardner short stories, "you're welcome to come watch my friends and me play poker any time you want. Any Monday evening, that is. We play every week, on Monday."

"Nice of you," Lynn said. "I'll think about it."

McNally started for the exit with the book under his arm, then came back, slowly and hesitantly, toward the desk.

"I just remembered something," he said. "We're a lazy bunch, my poker-playing friends and I. So we usually have a girl come in and play hostess for us while we're playing. You know, open beer and fix drinks and serve sandwiches as the evening goes along."

"Sounds like fun," Lynn said. "Good clean fun, in a quiet, old-fashioned way."

"I guess the girls don't find it too much of a chore, and we usually. pay her a share of the two biggest winning pots of the evening. Beats the going rate for baby-sitting, they tell me."

"I'll bet it does."

"Usually the girl is one of the students. One of the prettier students, I have to admit. Most of the men are younger than I am, you see."

Lynn didn't say anything.

"Anyway, the girl who usually does the honors won't be with us this coming Monday. You won't be insulted if I ask if you'd like to take her place? You can do all the watching you want. And I know the other poker players would be delighted to have you."

She thought about it, but only for a couple of seconds. She wasn't doing anything next Monday evening. Or any other evening.

"Why not?" she said. "It might be fun."

"Our pleasure," he said, and wrote his address on a page in a notebook he took from his pocket, then handed it to her. "We start around eight. It'll be our pleasure if you can make it."

"Should I shop for anything before I comer she asked. "Bread? Cold cuts? Beer?"

"You're a good girl," he said, smiling at her. "But we'll be stocked with supplies when you get there." He lifted his hand in a small wave as he turned toward the exit.

"See you Monday," she said, watching the door close quietly behind him.