Startled, I looked up from the minutes of a deadly dull meeting I was typing into a word processing document.

"We need your help in the reading room," said my boss Frank.

"Linda went home sick."

"Good," I said, hastily saving and closing my document. "I mean-"

Frank smiled. He really was a great boss. "I know what you mean. Now, go." He made shooing motions with his hands, "It's a zoo up there."

I work as an administrative assistant in the special collections department of a university library. I love my job, but I am a people person and really prefer to work in the reading room, helping researchers. Frank agrees that I do a good job and has promised to give me an opportunity when there is an opening for reference help, but my colleagues were holding tight to their jobs. I certainly didn't wish anyone ill, but why couldn't someone find a better-paying job, or have a baby, or win the lottery?

My heels clattered on the old stone steps leading to the reading room. As always, the reading room cast its magic on me as soon as I walked through the arched double wooden doors. I loved everything about it-the leaded glass windows, the threadbare area rugs covering the worn hardwood floors, the smell of old books, but most of all, the bespectacled researchers paging through ancient documents and rare books.

I couldn't stop myself from scanning the room to see if he was there, and my heart hiccuped when I saw him sitting at his customary table, tapping on his laptop keys with a file of documents open on his right.

His name was Zachary, and he was a graduate student working on his dissertation. He'd started coming in to the reading room over the summer, and had immediately charmed everyone, but most of all, me. Handsome, polite, and intelligent, but very reserved. He didn't wear a wedding ring, but nobody-and believe me, all the female staff members had tried-had been able to find out if he was available. Read The Rest Of The Story Here