Page 8 of My Book Boyfriend
Iopenthedoorto my office and see the red, suede boots on my coffee table first. It’s hard to miss that splash of bright color in my otherwise two-toned room of maple wood with white chairs and white walls. Rowena has made herself comfortable, as usual. But then, her office is also my second home at Strive Developers.
“You’re late.” A voice comes from the interior of my very comfortable reading chair.
“I was up late finishingHe Had No Idea.”
And thinking about a certain blushing blonde.
That older gentleman, who introduced himself as Mr. Devi, was quite persuasive as I walked him home. The librarian was pretty, especially when she blushed. And good taste in books.
But she seems to be in love with some other guy. Aiden or something. It’s fine.
I’m off the market.
Rowena swings her—my—chair around. “Was it good?”
“Very.”
“You found a book buddy?” Rowena waves her phone in the air. I sent her a text yesterday after meeting Lily telling Rowena she might be off the hook for being my book buddy.
“I did.”
“Where did you meet her?”
“At the library.”
“Good place for you. And you clearly found her attractive.”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because you’re not usually texting me about meeting random strangers. Did you ask her out?”
“She’s running a book discussion onHe Had No Ideaon Friday, so I can wade in slowly and see how it goes.”
“Always a good idea to do some covert due diligence on potential dates and how they act in public before you meet up andThe Intelligencer’sPage Sixblows it all out of proportion for click-bait gossip,” Rowena says.
“Exactly,” I say. “But at least they refer to you by name and not as ‘New York’s most eligible bachelor.’ One of many, I might add.” I hate that designation. Because if I go out, there’s always that whisper: “You know, he’s Rupert Evans, the heir to Strive Developers.” I never know if I am wanted for myself.
As I sit down at my maple desk, Rowena plops her boots back on the floor and walks over. She picks up the photo of Grandpa with the two of us and smiles. She has pigtails in the photo and barely resembles the very stylish woman who stands before me now. Granted, I’ve got chocolate ice cream smeared on my nose in the picture, so I look quite different as well. Grandpa had taken us to Coney Island for the day.
“This is my favorite picture of us,” she says.
I lean my head on my laced fingers, my elbows on the tabletop. “We’re still agreed, right? We’re not going to compete against each other when we want to be co-CEOs.” She just got back from a family trip to Florida, strategically timed by her dad, my uncle Tom, to convince her to go for CEO alone, I’m sure.
Rowena nods. “Agreed. Even though I have my doubts about the likelihood of our success. Did you see the Oasis Development project? It requires tearing down the four small buildings that we own, razing that community garden, and coming up with the design for the new, twenty-story building. And Dad and Grandpa want useachto pitch for it, proposing how we’re going to get it done, and then Grandpa will select the winner.”
“A total nightmare. I already got a call from PR that a journalist called about it. And I like that community garden. It’s a great spot to read. And to buy organic vegetables. Anastasia used to shop there sometimes.”
The development for this project is not complicated.Other than the community garden, it’s similar to several projects we’ve done in the past three years.The community garden aspect has to be the test.
“Anastasia. That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. That was messy. I remember how surprised I was when I came over and her stuff was everywhere.”
“Not as surprised as me.”
“It was pretty ballsy on her part to move in. Most get scared away by your brusqueness. You must have shown your softer side.”
I snort. “I don’t think so. I was just working all the time on that project by the East River, and she took advantage of my absence. But when I came home late one night and she had five friends over and I felt like a guest in my own apartment, that was it. She also complained that I worked all the time.”
“You do work all the time.”
