Her sweaty hand clasped a book taken from the shelf in her room. She owned all of his books. The line moved. She shuffled forward. Two left.
Would he notice her dressed as a character from his book? She adjusted her red dress. One left.
She hugged his book against her midriff. Her stomach fluttered regardless. Her turn.
His hand touched hers, exchanging jolts.
“What’s your name?”
“C- Cathy.”
He scribbled in her book.
She berated herself out of the bookstore. Her only chance wasted. She opened the book. Almost fainting, she read.
Soho Grand Hotel. 212. Knock five times.
