Page 44 of The Baller

“My associates?”

“For once in his life he’s trying to be polite. He means the G.I. Joes outside.”

Even without a mirror I knew my cheeks were red; I could feel the heat turning up like a Bunsen burner. I almost longed for the day I graduated so my mother would allow me to go about my life by myself, with zero security. Or less. Oh, the things I would do. The places I would go… my mind ground to a halt before I full on fantasized myself as Dr. Seuss.

Asher tapped my arm with the top of his cane. “You’ve nothing to worry about. This place is more secure than Fort Knox.”

“What exactlyisthis place?”

“My sanctuary,” replied Lux, before Asher could respond. The words were so simple and pure and truthful that a thick bolt of jealousy hit me square in the chest. “It’s a rare book store, carrying the rarest of books. Asher here is one of the most noted antiquarian booksellers in the world. You’ve been in The Library of Congress, right?”

I nodded silently.

“Asher probably found half the books in there.”

“Pfft,” Asher scoffed. “Absurd. There are over forty million books.”

Lux turned to me, his expression somber. “Asher found acoupleof the books in there,” he said, followed by sticking out his very long, pink tongue and rolling his eyes.

A laugh barreled up my throat, my heart danced in my chest, and before I could stop it my core constricted so hard at images of what that tongue could do, I nearly doubled over.

“It’s appointment only, so it’s safe and secure,” Lux continued softly, watching my face for any reaction, though I also got the impression he was searching for approval. “The street is quiet… better than being in public, right?”

He was so close to me I could feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over my cheek. I almost couldn’t breathe – from his closeness, but also the profound thoughtfulness he’d put into bringing me here. Somewhere I’d feel safe.

Books. My favorite type of books. In my favorite type of place.

“It’s perfect,” I whispered.

“Stop talking and show her around, Luxor. Take her to see the books. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Lux answered with an eyeroll and a mumble that sounded likeso bossy.

Asher peered over his bifocals at me. “What are you studying, my dear?”

“English at Columbia.”

His eyes lit up, making him look much younger than eighty-nine. “Really? You must know Professor Hawkes.”

“I take her Shakespeare class. Do you know her?”

“I know everyone, my dear,” he replied, waving his hand toward the shelves. “Lux will show you where The Bard is kept.”

I smiled at him; baffled and feeling bizarrely happy in thisstrange little shop. “Thank you.”

“Come on.” Lux held his hand out, and I took it without thinking.

In the time we’d been talking to Asher, the light had adjusted so much that it didn’t seem dark any more. Even the low lamps were unnecessary.

Lux led me through a second door where I found myself standing in a much smaller room; an enormous, familiar mahogany desk stood against the side. In fact, it was the only thing in here, though not much else would be able to fit.

“Where are the books?”

“Next door, I’ll show you. I wanted you to see this,” he said, and pointed at the desk.

“A desk?”

“It’s The Resolute Desk.”

---