Chapter Three
Becky had been working her way up and down the aisles, re-shelving books. She had worked her way closer and closer to where Mr. Harcroff sat and now turned the corner of the last bookcase and pushed her cart to a stop in front of his table. She picked up a couple of books and replaced them; the last one on the top shelf where she had to stand on tippy toes. The hem of her dress slid up over tight thighs and she heard him stir in his chair, but she didn’t look ‘round. Becky returned to the cart and was picking up another book when he startled her.
“Becky. God, Becky! What are you doing to me?”
She half turned toward him. The book in her hand caught the handle of the cart and slipped from her fingers to the floor. She knelt down to retrieve it, one knee on the carpet, exposi
