"May I see you
again?" he asked. There was an endearing nervousness in his voice.
I smiled. "Sure."
"Tomorrow?" he asked.
"Patience, grasshopper," I counseled. "You don't want to seem
overeager.
"Right, that's why I said tomorrow," he said. "I want to see you
again tonight. But I'm willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow." I
rolled my eyes. "I'm serious," he said.
"You don't even know me," I said. I grabbed the book from the center
console. "How about I call you when I finish this?"
"But you don't even have my phone number," he said.
"I strongly suspect you wrote it in this book."
He broke out into that goofy smile. "And you say we don't know each
other.”
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