I felt a small rush of triumph at having rendered Alice speechless, if only for a moment.
"I need an idea," I said. "A gift."
A slow smile crept across Alice's face. I couldn't tell if there was a sinister
undercurrent, or if that was just my overactive imagination.
"What do you get the man who has everything?" she said, quietly.
"Exactly." I nodded, watching her. The expression on her face was unreadable, but she
was obviously considering something. Weighing her options.
"If you don't know, it's fine," I said. I hadn't intended this to be a challenge, but that
was how she took it - I saw the glint in her eyes.
Oh well, whatever worked.
She leaned across the desk, glancing over her shoulder as if someone might materialize
out of the wood paneling and eavesdrop on her.
"There's something," she said, very quietly. "He spent a long time looking for it, a few
years back - but he finally gave up."
Opening one of her desk drawers, slowly, she looked behind her again, before picking
up a fountain pen and quickly scrawling something on an index card. She handed it to me,
and I was briefly distracted by the heft of the thing. It was thick and lush - only the best for
Mr. Thorne, even when it came to index cards.
It said:
On Business by Lawrence Langley
"Uh," I started, looking at her.
"It's a book," she said, cutting me off. "There was only one printing. That's a distant
cousin of Mr. Thorne's, he immigrated from Czechoslovakia as a factory worker, and ended up with a real estate empire five years later." She told me all this in hushed tones, like it was
some shameful family secret. "Once Mr. Thorne found out about it, he got obsessed with
learning about the man. But he ran into roadblocks at every turn, and the biggest one was this
book."
I looked down at the card in my hand again, trying to reconcile this with my
stereotypical ideas of what a Valentine's day gift should be.
"It's not very...romantic, is it?" I finally said, hesitantly.
Alice's demeanor instantly went cold again. She sat up straight, picking up a sheaf of
papers from her desk and tapping them rhythmically. "That's what I've got," she said. "Take it
or leave it."
"No, no, I really...I really appreciate it," I assured her. "Any, uh...tips?"
She shrugged, melting a little. "He had me calling every used bookstore in the country,
as far as I know. But that was years ago. A copy might have turned up. People are cleaning
out their attics and basements and invisible corners all the time. You never know."
"Thanks," I said. "I mean it, Alice. This is a big deal, and I don't take it lightly."
She shrugged, but there was still a hint of a smile on her face.
"I need an idea," I said. "A gift."
A slow smile crept across Alice's face. I couldn't tell if there was a sinister
undercurrent, or if that was just my overactive imagination.
"What do you get the man who has everything?" she said, quietly.
"Exactly." I nodded, watching her. The expression on her face was unreadable, but she
was obviously considering something. Weighing her options.
"If you don't know, it's fine," I said. I hadn't intended this to be a challenge, but that
was how she took it - I saw the glint in her eyes.
Oh well, whatever worked.
She leaned across the desk, glancing over her shoulder as if someone might materialize
out of the wood paneling and eavesdrop on her.
"There's something," she said, very quietly. "He spent a long time looking for it, a few
years back - but he finally gave up."
Opening one of her desk drawers, slowly, she looked behind her again, before picking
up a fountain pen and quickly scrawling something on an index card. She handed it to me,
and I was briefly distracted by the heft of the thing. It was thick and lush - only the best for
Mr. Thorne, even when it came to index cards.
It said:
On Business by Lawrence Langley
"Uh," I started, looking at her.
"It's a book," she said, cutting me off. "There was only one printing. That's a distant
cousin of Mr. Thorne's, he immigrated from Czechoslovakia as a factory worker, and ended up with a real estate empire five years later." She told me all this in hushed tones, like it was
some shameful family secret. "Once Mr. Thorne found out about it, he got obsessed with
learning about the man. But he ran into roadblocks at every turn, and the biggest one was this
book."
I looked down at the card in my hand again, trying to reconcile this with my
stereotypical ideas of what a Valentine's day gift should be.
"It's not very...romantic, is it?" I finally said, hesitantly.
Alice's demeanor instantly went cold again. She sat up straight, picking up a sheaf of
papers from her desk and tapping them rhythmically. "That's what I've got," she said. "Take it
or leave it."
"No, no, I really...I really appreciate it," I assured her. "Any, uh...tips?"
She shrugged, melting a little. "He had me calling every used bookstore in the country,
as far as I know. But that was years ago. A copy might have turned up. People are cleaning
out their attics and basements and invisible corners all the time. You never know."
"Thanks," I said. "I mean it, Alice. This is a big deal, and I don't take it lightly."
She shrugged, but there was still a hint of a smile on her face.