What happened? Should I tell Jack about this? No, this is my problem. I shouldn’t get Jack involved in my mess. Without changing, I stepped out the door.
The Broadway at 2 A.M. was still. The cold wind was blowing hard, which reminded me that I had forgotten my jacket. I quickly went back to my room and put on the hooded polyester parka I bought recently. I had bought this for my Central Park runs.
I started sprinting towards the donut shop. It sort of made me feel like a New Yorker, running in the city at midnight.
When I got to there, Ken was already seated on the stool at the counter with a serious expression.
“I do apologize for asking to meet so late at night. First of all, let me return this book to you.”
Ken handed A GOLD BOOK to me, now wrapped so that it didn’t get damaged.
“I went to my acquaintance for the valuation and coincidentally I bumped into his boss who was kind enough to do the valuation. But as soon as he laid his eyes on the book, all hell broke loose. He said this book is worth nothing short of $20,000 and even the Warhol Foundation wouldn’t have one in such pristine condition. Therefore, the best thing to do is to put it up for auction at the right time,” said Ken.
He smiled and continued, “Isn’t that great? It was such a great news that I wanted to tell you in person,” and stretched out his hand to shake mine.
I said “Thank you, Ken,” happy to see that Ken was as excited about the news as if it was about him.
“So I told them that I would first return the book to the owner and let him know about the full result,” said Ken, looking satisfied about a job well done on his part.
We toasted over coffee which was followed by a friendly hug.
“Now the decision is up to you. A story about the discovery of such a rare book will be something The New York Times would jump on. As for an average collector like myself, just holding it in my hand is a blessing. So truly, thank you,” Ken continued.

My mind was made up.
“I will sell this book to you, Ken. No, actually, I want you to be the owner. As my first client, will you do me the honor?” I said.
“No, no, I can’t do that. I don’t have that much money to buy such an expensive book,” Ken said, shaking his hands and head briskly.
“It’s not the money. Hmm, let’s do this. I will forget this book at this shop and you can be the one to pick it up. See you soon, oh, thanks for the coffee!” I said and I left, leaving the book on the counter.
“W-wait, hold on!” Ken got off the stool to stop me but by that time, I had already left the donut shop and was speeding down Broadway at midnight.
For some reason, I couldn’t contain my happiness that I hopped and ran back home.