knew Strauss & Adder Publishers was special. The doors opened into a small, white-shelved lobby lined with books - both their

le nonfiction. Think self-help, cookbooks, and how-tos, but they were best known for their travel guides. If you

the smell of aged paper in the halls lined with guides to Rome, Bangkok, and Antarctica. I didn't want to write books myself, but I loved the i

cubicles filled with colorful odds and ends. Mine was closest to my boss's glass-doored office - supposedly priv

nday with the rest of us. And yet here we all were, because if we all loved one thing, it was

nished to the glum, cobweb-filled corner of the floor where CEOs were wont to stick their mushroom-growing artsy people.

missed it,"

back my card. "You kind of ra

strong grip. The warm, soli

weet-oh, say, did you end up savi

ng myself out of my thoughts.

her head. "I

e me pau

ine. No hesitation. I think that's why Dave likes you so much," sh

the restaurant-apparently, someone from Faux had come to the chef about a book (Parker Daniels, Dave guessed)

le. "Dave's got st

checked her smart watch on her wrist and groaned. "I should probably return to the cav

e the receipt from lunch before disappearing into the darker part of the f

, were filled with pictures of her posing with celebrities at book launches and red carpets, her shelves stacked with awards where m

wept into the room. "Ah, Lola! Happy Friday, as always," she said, sharp in a

om, she owned it. Conversat

e was co publisher and director of marketing and publicity, running campaigns for some of the biggest names in publishing. She was an icon. Th

I'm sorry I took a long

ly all right. I saw you handled A

ing the worst luc

he gets home." She opened a drawer and pull

ceipt and credit card down on the desk. She took a look at both of them

" She offered

podcast interviews, the revised itineraries, the newly confirmed bookstore events. Monique and I worked like a well-oiled machine.