Nothing said classy librarian more than collapsing on a chair with my head wedged between my knees. I'd been so focused on getting everything ready for the author visit that afternoon that I hadn't considered the possible consequences of leftover spaghetti mixed with my white lace top for lunch. It took a certain degree of talent to get more on my boobs than inside my mouth.

I'd sped back home to my apartment to change, and like the dumbass that I was, I raced right past a cop ...