What You Don't Know (Sequel to "Secret Love")(Hunter Hayes/James Marsden)

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Hey, I'm updating! :D I can't believe the amount of writer's block I've had. But hey, whatever. I've been able to edit, at least. Anyway, comment, vote, etc.! God Bless and Happy Reading! 

Darryl Reddock scanned the library, his eyes dancing across the blurred titles and over the rustic wooden shelves. Dust floated in motes around his head.

He moved on to the next shelf, this one marginally less dusty. Time ticked away slowly. Darryl sighed. There were still several hours before his job interview was to take place: the first interview he had been called for since he had been fired from his last job.

Four employers had given him the boot thus far in his career, the first being that hot shot Hunter Hayes. Darryl laughed to himself, thinking of that rat again. Oh, yes, he had seen the news. Hunter had proposed; Bethany had denied him. It was a very fitting denouement to the tale, should one ask Darryl. Hunter had, after all, stolen his only chance with that Bethany, a fact to which Darryl did not take kindly.

Hunter had not been the first one to steal his thunder. Oh, no. The first had been an employer of a different kind. It was a part of Darryl's life that he had veiled behind a four-inch tapestry. No one knew he had even done it, and he was less proud of it than he could bear to admit.

Yet, it had happened, and, in the process, it had led to his loving - or at least, lusting powerfully - after Bethany Moira Franklin-James.

He could not think about that right now. He had to put on a smile for his interview.

He checked his watch and groaned. Why had he wandered into a library, of all places? There were hundreds of places that he could have visited to waste time.

A blonde head bobbing on the other side of the bookcase caught his eye, and he stopped to peer through the cracked, crusty stacks. The head was a good foot below his own, and was turned away. He squinted. It was not him, though. The hair was different: styled in smoother fashion, whereas the person Darryl remembered favored spikes.

Darryl shrugged, and was preparing to let the issue go and leave the ghost town, a tenor chuckle pulling at his memory, and he crossed into the aisle with the blonde man instead.

"Well, I'll be," Darryl said, a haughty look sliding onto his face.

Amanda's gaze shot up to see a man laughing, his arms crossed and his shoulder leaning against the World Series Encyclopedias. His crystal green eyes sparkled with an irony she did not comprehend, and his unfamiliar black brows were raised in amusement.

She gave him a once-over, hoping that some part of his nicely shaped body would give away the key to how he knew her. No such luck. She had never seen him before; if she had, she had no memory of it. His short, curly hair and handsome brown skin would have been difficult not to remember.

Amanda closed the book she had been perusing and turned fully toward him.

"I'm sorry," she said politely, "Do I know you?"

Darryl snorted. The answer to that question was apparent. He shifted his weight to his other foot and extended his hand.

"I'm Darryl. Darryl Reddock. I used to work for Hunter."

The petit woman's face lit with recognition, and she pushed a short lock of hair behind her pretty ear. Darryl caught himself thinking how odd it was for such a beautiful woman to have such a mannish haircut. Before she had turned around, he had mistaken her for the Hunter Hayes himself!

"Oh, cool! You must have worked backstage or something."

He nodded coolly. "Yeah, I worked the ropes in the back. Don't worry about it. It's not a place the girlfriend of a superstar would usually frequent."