Page 6 of My Book Boyfriend
“Oh, this got delivered to our neighbor by accident.” Bella hands me a postcard. “She gave it to me in the hallway.”
The postcard has a photo of some stone elephants on a gate in New Delhi. I flip it over to read the back. “Found some friends for Patience and Fortitude—Dad.” Patience and Fortitude are the names of the lions that guard the New York Public Library Fifth Avenue branch. I sigh. That’s it. Nothing personal from my dad.
“Have you talked to him lately?”
“No,” I say.
“You should call him. Anyway, I’m off to my stand-up gig,” Bella says. “I’m sorry I can’t make the meeting tonight.”
“Thank you for coming by the library to help me out. Break a leg. I’m sorry I won’t be there to cheer you on.”
“No worries.” Bella turns left to head to the subway downtown. “Saving the garden is more important. See you at home.”
Banter & Books is a few more blocks up on Amsterdam Avenue. I zip my large overcoat and trudge up the street past empty sheds, closed up for the winter. The glowing holiday star hanging from the lamppost provides festive cheer amid the deepening dusk.Will we be able to fight Strive Developers?I bite my lip. The only other community garden in the neighborhood was demolished a few years ago to make way for luxury housing.
I open the door to Banter & Books, immediately enveloped by warmth. Hanging plants and shelves filled with books line the whitewashed walls. Bright book covers and green plants give such a cheerful, welcoming vibe. It feels like a cross between a café in Provence and a greenhouse. French-blue settees and armchairs scattered around form little nooks for private conversations or reading. Around each cluster of chairs is a mass cane, an Areca palm, or a peace lily, providing some additional seclusion. At the back, half of the yard has been converted into a conservatory. The books at the front are for sale, but they also have a small, free library in the back where people can exchange books.
I order a peppermint tea at the counter from Miranda, who appears to be the only one working today—and busy. She hands me a stand with a number on it, and I move to the end of the counter.
I check the book club discussion binder. A good number of people signed up for the book club discussion forHe Had No Idea, and quite a few men listed Chrissy as one of their favorite authors. Banter & Books runs a very laid-back matchmaking service where they will match you up based on reading interests. And if you’re too shy for that, you can just join a book club to discuss a particular novel.
I scan the names. No Rupert Evans. Not a surprise. I shouldn’t even be looking for his name. He definitely doesn’t need a dating service, and he exudes a “time is money” motto. And I don’t do blind dates anymore—not since the last few dates when the men seemed disappointed to meet a librarian for a drink rather than some svelte model. Not to mention the last guy who seemed to be seeking some mythical, prim-and-proper librarian who was a wildcat underneath.
Miranda passes by me with a tray to deliver some very full mugs. On her way back with an empty tray, she gives me a warm pat on the back.
“Do you have any copies ofHe Had No Idealeft?” I ask. He had to have checked either this bookstore or the Strand a few blocks down.
“No. We sold out, but we’re getting more stock in tomorrow. I sent the last guy to the library. Now, he washot. Did he stop by?”
“Because it would definitely be the same guy?”
“This guy was steaming. Are you getting a plethora of hot guys at the library?” Miranda raises an eyebrow as she puts down the tray. She re-ties her Banter & Books apron around her waist. The dark-blue apron highlights her red hair and bright-blue eyes.
“He came by. I gave him the last paperback copy. All the e-books were borrowed almost immediately.” The door opens with a whoosh of cold air, and Iris enters, unzipping her heavy parka. She’s wearing an enormous, knitted neck warmer that practically covers her entire face. She pulls it off as she joins me at the counter and shakes out her dark-brown hair. It seems like the neck warmer does double duty as a hand muff.
“He was hot, right?” Miranda asks.
“Yes,” I say. “Mr. Devi tried to set me up with him.”
Miranda snort-laughs. “Go, Mr. Devi.”
“Who was hot?” Iris shoves the hand muff into her ever-present backpack.
“This guy who came in here looking forHe Had No Ideabut they’re out, so Miranda sent him to the library,” I say.
“Did you get his number?” Iris asks.
“I got his address—but only so I could give him a library card,” I say.
“He didn’t have a library card?” Iris asks. “That’s insane. He’s not a good match for you, then.”
“He looked like the type who buys all his books,” Miranda says. “What can I get you?”
“Cappuccino,” Iris says. “Someone clicked on a phishing link in an email and installed malware, so I’ve still got some work ahead of me tonight.” Iris works in cybersecurity for an up-and-coming entertainment company.
“You didn’t have to come out, then,” I say.
“It’s fine. This morning was relatively quiet, so I spent some time researching Strive Developers then.”
