Book Lovers

Fame comes with money,” I point out. “Money’s helpful.”

“Fame also comes with people telling you whatever they think you want to hear.”

“Nora.” He just barely smiles. “You’re in books. Of course you don’t have a life. None of us do. There’s always something too good to read.”

Sometimes, even when you start with the last page and you think you know everything, a book finds a way to surprise you.

“I have no interest in going easy on you, Nora,” he says.

I read once that sunflowers always orient themselves to face the sun.

That’s what being near Charlie Lastra is like for me. There could be a raging wildfire racing toward me from the west and I’d still be straining eastward toward his warmth.

“Sure,” he says evenly, “or they showed up with pitchforks and demanded their weekly cacio e pepe.”

“Sure,” he says evenly, “or they showed up with pitchforks and demanded their weekly cacio e pepe.”

Charlie stands. “We can share my umbrella.”

But even aside from that, any decent person would at least wait until there was some bread on the table before throwing out insults.

Wipe that frozen smile off your face. You’re not that nice.