The Man Who Has No Sight - Victoria Quinn Page 0,94

to keep the hostility out of my tone.

Mr. Hamilton,

It looks like we got disconnected the other day. I would really appreciate a completion date for this installment of the series. You’re already two months late, and there are other people in this office who are depending on this information to prepare for publication, publicity, and advertising.

Please get back to me.

Emerson

That email went unanswered…like all the others.

I was still a fan of his novels despite his arrogance and disregard for other people because he was that good. But I started to hate him a little bit. “His address is on his paperwork. I’m just going to talk to him in person.”

“Whoa.” Janine turned in her swivel chair to face me. “You can’t be serious.”

“I can’t get a response out of him, and Mark is breathing down my neck.”

“But that’s…a little weird.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I’ve emailed him a dozen times, and he won’t take my calls. I can’t even give Mark an update about the manuscript. This guy is making me look like an idiot, which is bad since I just started here.”

Janine shrugged. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

“I’m just going to do it.” I shut down my computer and grabbed my bag before I left the office. It was the end of the day, so I would stop by on my way home. He was a writer, so he was probably home right now since he didn’t have a day job. Well, I assumed he didn’t. Based on his sales, he definitely didn’t need one.

I walked up to his building then greeted the doorman. Once I stepped into the nice lobby, I realized this wasn’t an apartment building. Based on the fresh flowers in large vases, the nice Turkish rug on the floor, and the elaborate area where the mail was located, with a person working behind the desk, this was a high-end piece of real estate.

Probably the lobby for a bunch of fancy condos.

He sold a lot of books…but not that many books.

His address in our file only had the location of the building, but I had no idea what floor he lived on or what unit number belonged to him. I went to the woman sitting behind the mail counter. “Hello, I’m Emerson Lane with Astra Books. I came here to see Derek Hamilton but can’t remember which floor he lives on. Could you direct me?”

She stayed seated behind her desk, looking up at me like I was a nuisance. “I can’t give out that information.”

“I understand, but I’m with his publisher. I’m here to see him—”

“Miss.” She rose to her feet. “I have a lot of high-profile clients in this building, so I’ve seen this act before. You think you’re the first to pull a stunt like this?”

My eyes narrowed. “I’m not pulling any stunts—”

“The answer is no. Please leave.” She sat down again.

I couldn’t believe I’d been spoken to that way. I was annoyed with this woman, but the person I was really angry with was Derek Hamilton because he had me jumping through hoops just to have five minutes of his time.

I turned around but stopped when I almost collided with the man standing behind me. With dark hair, brown eyes, and a chiseled jaw covered with a sexy stubble of hair, he was in jeans and a t-shirt, his eyes narrowed and focused on my face.

“Sorry…I didn’t see you there.”

He was still as a statue, not even blinking, just looking at me with a gaze full of subtle hostility. He was tall and lean and muscular, his nice arms stretching the sleeves of his shirt. His shirt was flat against his chiseled stomach, and his jeans hung low on his hips. He was young, maybe a few years older than me. I was surprised he was standing there…and also because he was one hell of a hunk.

I didn’t know what to do because our eyes were locked and he still seemed angry even though I’d apologized for almost colliding into him. “Alright, then.” I finally gathered my bearings and stepped around him.

As I walked away, I heard the mail lady speak to him when he came to the counter.

“Hello, Mr. Hamilton. Here’s your mail.”

I abruptly turned around and watched him carry a few envelopes to the elevator. He had a satchel over his shoulder, and he stopped in front of the elevator as he waited for the doors to open. He looked through his mail, shuffling through the envelopes, and