"I can't thank you enough for this, Nicholas."
"It's my pleasure." I open my wallet and toss a few bills on the table before I push to my feet. "Sophia is the one you should be thanking. This was all her doing."
She's the one who managed to get the book into his hands without having to step foot near me. It's impressive. It's also annoying as fuck.
"I'll thank her as soon as I'm back at the office."
"Tell her I said hello." I pat him on the shoulder as I brush past him on my way to the exit. "And, if you wouldn't mind, tell her I'll be in touch."
CHAPTER FOUR
Sophia
He'll be in touch?What the hell does that mean?
"He said he'll be in touch with me?" I question Gabriel. "You're sure Nicholas used those words?"
"I realize it's not my place to ask, Sophia, but is there something personal going on between you two?"
My eyes drop to the book that's open on the desk in front of him. He summoned me to his office when he returned from lunch. I didn't know what to expect when I gave him that card with the address Nicholas had written down when I was sitting next to him on the subway. All I knew was that I wanted Gabriel to have that book, but I didn’t want to be the one to get it for him, so I copied the address into the generic birthday card I bought on my way to work, drew a happy face on the envelope and gave it to my boss at noon. I wasn't even sure Nicholas would still be waiting for me by the time Gabriel got to the bistro.
Last night after I got home I did what any single woman should do before she goes to meet a virtual stranger for lunch. I did an online search. Typing Nicholas Wolf's name into Googleyielded tens of thousands of results. The top result was his website, the rest of the listings on the first page were reviews of his books.
It wasn't until I clicked on the image search that I uncovered a treasure trove of information. It seems that Nicholas Wolf has one standard sorry approach that he uses to pick up women. It's not only weak, but it borders on narcissism in its worst form.
The second I saw a picture of a woman holding a book in her hands with an address in the West Village written in it, I knew I'd never step foot in the place. When I spotted a second image with a different woman holding a book with the same address, I cursed aloud.
The guy I met on the subway last night uses his own books to pick up women. He writes down the address of that bistro in a copy of his book, meets for lunch and then probably takes them to the hotel around the corner for a quickie.
I suppose the book is a parting gift of sorts.
Thanks for the fuck. Here's a copy of the book I wrote so you can remember our mid-day roll in the hay.
That might not be exactly what he says to the women he has sex with, but it has to be close.
"Nothing is going on between the two of us." I shake my head vigorously. "I met him on the subway when I was on my way to his book signing, sir."
"You must have made quite the impression on him." He smiles. "You coerced him into giving me a book that hasn't been released yet. I don't know how you did it, but I'm forever grateful."
I tricked him. No special skills required.
"I told him you enjoyed his work and he offered the book." Under the pretense that I'd show up at the place he met both of those women who posted pictures of his invitation on their dating blogs.
I don't have a dating blog. You have to actively date to have one of those. What I do have is a book that technically belongs to Mr. Foster in my desk drawer. I wonder if he'd notice if I ripped out the page with the restaurant's address written on it and the personal invitation Nicholas offered to me.
I somehow managed to get out of this without my boss being aware that I sent him on a mission to get his own birthday present. I don't want to press my luck by showing him the book that Nicholas used as date bait to try to lure me in. I need to pick up a new copy ofBurden's Proofon my way home and give that to Mr. Foster tomorrow.
I'll burn the other copy. I got what I wanted. That means I never have to see Nicholas Wolf or speak to him again.
"Is that you, Sophia?"A now familiar voice asks as the man, that I stood up at lunch, approaches from my left. "What are you doing in here?"
I saw him enter the bookstore a few minutes after I did. I might not have noticed him if it wasn't for the loud gasp that came from the female store clerk when he walked past the check-out desk. Apparently, she knows exactly who Nicholas Wolf is.
"I'm buying one of Andrew Star's novels," I drawl as I adjust the books in my hand. "I've heard it's one of the best detective mysteries ever written."
"The only person who would have told you that is Andrew Star."
I roll my eyes. "I doubt that he's the only one who enjoys his work."
