Today's Reading

"Is that so?" I reply with as much interest as possible. "How long have you been..." I pause. "A writer?"

"Oh, a decade at least," he says flippantly, as though we're talking about fishing. Or riding a bicycle. "The story first came to me in the middle of the night. Gripping stuff. And I just saw the whole thing laid out for me right then"—he manages to put four fingers up in a picture-this style, and I don't even glance as a crab cake drops to the ground—"Start to finale. Guess what the murder weapon was? You'll never guess in a hundred years."

I wait.

But he's looking at me with expectation, clearly one of those people who actually likes you to guess a handful of incorrect things.

"Oh. Hmm," I say, feigning to rack my brain. I throw out something so terribly cliché he'll win his little game. "Cyanide."

His face drops.

He looks so wounded I backpedal.

"Which is very clever, if that's what you thought of," I say, tweaking both brows. "It can be given surreptitiously with immediate results."

"Yes!" he cries, all wounds forgotten. "It is a clever little idea! Dropping a little into a cup of tea at a restaurant would be rather ingenious, wouldn't it? A swap by someone you had thought to be a trusty waiter?"

I'm going to just pretend I've never heard of Sherlock Holmes here.

"What's the name of your book? I'll have to look it up."

"Ohhh," he says, pulling a face. "I haven't gotten to writing it down yet. You know how it is. Something's always blocking my way. But it's here." He taps his temple. "Safe and sound."

I stuff both hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels. Swallow hard. "Sure. Sure."

It pains me. Physically pains me to have this conversation. "And believe me," he says, "I've watched my fair share of that show of yours and I've never seen it done quite like this."

Cyanide shows off the top of my head:

Season 2 episode 11.

Season 4 episode 2.

Season 4 episode 8.

"Right," I say.

"Right?!" he cries, and then with an almighty slap hits me on the shoulder as though he's found someone who finally gets it.

Shakes me a few times.

And then freezes.

Watery eyes staring at me.

Thoughts apparently spinning.

And then stopping.

"You know, Finn," he says, drawing back. "You might be just the man I've been looking for. With your creative intellect, my guidance, and any luck tonight, a conversation that will draw Lavender Rhodes into a mutually"—he lowers his voice—"Advantageous opportunity, we could be the start of a little dream team—"

That's it.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Henry," I interject, disentangling myself from his web as I step back. "A colleague is trying desperately to get my attention. I really must be going."

"Oh?" He turns in the direction of the room behind him and, compelled, I lift a finger towards Paula as if to say, Yes, I see you. I'm coming.

She pretends not to see me.

I raise my finger higher and begin to wave.

She—very clearly having zero interest in helping me make my escape—turns her back on me and exits the room.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Henry," I say, undeterred. "I wish you the best of luck in your future projects."

I'm willing to leave my job for just about any substitute. But there are limits.

And Lavender Rhodes is that limit.
...

Join the Library's Online Book Clubs and start receiving chapters from popular books in your daily email. Every day, Monday through Friday, we'll send you a portion of a book that takes only five minutes to read. Each Monday we begin a new book and by Friday you will have the chance to read 2 or 3 chapters, enough to know if it's a book you want to finish. You can read a wide variety of books including fiction, nonfiction, romance, business, teen and mystery books. Just give us your email address and five minutes a day, and we'll give you an exciting world of reading.

What our readers think...