Page 24 of My Book Boyfriend
“I’m sorry. I am a romance writer. I wish I could describe how he walks and put that in a book.”
We all stare after him. He does have really long legs and a magnetic way of walking. But he also looks a little lonely. And he seemed so happy discussing the book with all the club participants.
I pivot and walk in the opposite direction. My friends follow.
We turn down one of the side streets to cross over to Central Park West. Warm light spills into the street from the illuminated windows. A striking, red-and-white painting withlovein script hangs on a wall, visible through one window. Tall, bare trees line the block. We skirt around the piles of black garbage bags set out for tomorrow’s pickup.
“And he definitely likes you,” Bella says. “He didn’t pay any attention to that other woman, and she tried so many times to get his attention. He was fully focused on you.”
Hedidcompletely ignore that other woman.
“And I don’t think it’s because of the garden,” Maddie says. “Or not solely. I’m sorry if I scared him off.”
“It’s okay. You’re right,” I say. “We can’t really pretend we’re all friends.”Much as I want to.
No.Don’t go down that route.I can’t like another guy who’s not for me.
“Maybe you can see how you feel after the building is finished,” Maddie says. “He does seem like a good guy.”
“Yes. He’s not telling you that he can save the garden and lying to you,” Jing says. “And he was definitely there for you. Before you got there, he kept checking the door every time it opened, and once you arrived, he stopped.”
“I like him much better than Aiden,” Bella says.
“You like anyone better than Aiden,” I say.
“That’s true. Aiden is not worthy of you,” Bella says. “Aiden has never once come to a book club or any of the events you’ve hosted at the garden or the library. And this guy already joined a book club you were leading. He did some research.”
“Even if he destroys the garden?” I ask.
“It’s business,” Bella says. “He’s in some succession fight. He probably doesn’t have much of a choice.”
“He’s the grandson of the founder. He should have some power,” I say. “Otherwise, what’s the point?”
“That’s true,” Jing says.
We nod hello to a person walking a poodle. The moon is visible as we turn to walk south on Central Park West. A nearly empty bus passes us. Trees cluster behind the stone walls marking the border of Central Park. The wind whistles through the branches.
“I did some more searching on that point you mentioned about how he kicked out that family right before Christmas. It turns out that although the family was evicted, he paid for a hotel room for them and eventually settled them in an affordable housing unit,” I say. “The mom said that that building should have been torn down—everything was falling apart, and it was best fit for its rodent occupants—and staying at the hotel was like a two-month spa vacation. And the new apartment was so much better than the first. The follow-up was buried because it didn’t have a catchy headline like the Grinch.”
“Really?” Maddie asks. “I’m relieved to hear that.”
“It made me feel much better,” I say.
“Because you like him?” Bella asks.
“Because he’s not a totally evil person, and maybe he’ll have a heart when it comes to the garden,” I say.
Ahead of us, a doorman rushes out to open the door to a taxi stopping right at the awning.
Maddie yawns. “Sorry.”
“Maddie, why do you look so tired?” I ask. “You didn’t have to come if you have a lot of work to do.”
“My annoying ‘rock star’ neighbor was up all night again practicing a song.”
“I thought you were using ear plugs now,” Bella says.
“Those were brilliant at first,” Maddie says. “But then I woke up with my ears hurting. I’ll have to try another brand.”
