"You have time for lunch?" he asks.
"I really should head back to the office. I've got quite a bit of work to do."
"I'm not sure how I feel about sharing you with those reality show housewives."
"I only represent one housewife, Saint. The other two are on singing competition shows."
"Well I don't see why you can't pass them on to someone else and only handle me. Can't you tell that I'm an attention seeking whore?"
I quickly check my calendar and the time. "All right Mr. Needy, I can spare about forty-five minutes."
"Sweet. I know just the place."
"Where?"
"I'm taking you for a little slice of heaven."
"Pie?"
"No and stop trying to guess. Your need to know every single detail before you do or go anywhere is not good for your mental health. Live a little."
"Whatever. Let's go. The clock is ticking."
* * *
I'm in a restaurant the size of a walk-in closet on a side street in Greenwich Village with the largest slice of Sicilian pizza in my mouth that I've ever had. If I'm not careful, my eyes are going to roll to the back of my head.
"Heaven right?" Saint asks with an "I told you so" look on his face.
I nod my head, because I can't talk. My cheeks are full of cheesy dough.
Finally I swallow.
"The crust is amazing. How did you find this place?"
"It's a neighborhood haunt. Strictly word of mouth. The owners have been here for thirty years. Cute little Italian couple. The husband still mixes the dough himself every morning."
I wipe my mouth.
"I guess that's why it's so good."
"So you're not from New York?"
"No, I've lived here since my NYU days. I'm originally from Colorado Springs."
"That's a big move."
"I wanted something different. Ever since high school, I've loved numbers, and I thought that I'd be working on Wall Street, which is why I planned on a New York school but plans change."
"How so?"
"I had a hard time making friends when I first moved to New York. I started checking out some local bands as a way to get out and be social, since I wasn't much of a partier, and fell in love with the scene. Decided I wanted to be part of that world in some way. Since I can't sing or write songs, I figured I could manage their money. It's my way of being part of that world without having to actually be the talent."
"Who's your favorite band?"
"Spin."
"I've got a couple of their songs. They're cool."
