Read The Book Keeper for Free Online
Authors: Amelia Grace
interesting tactic. He maintained total eye contact the entire time, he mirrored her body language. If she stepped away, he would step towards her. He smiled at her a lot and made her laugh, he touched her shoulder, arm, hands a lot. He obviously complimented her much, because of the way she would look down and blush. And then he carried her food tray to her table for her, and sat down with her. Yep, this guy was good. I bet that he has done this a million times before.
I sighed as I watched them interact. Wouldn’t he love to know what she was really thinking? Then I laughed to myself. How ironic – a mind reading device – my specialty, apparently.
I returned to the fourth floor of the university library for phase two of my research – the brain. This was going to be far more problematic than research into the eye. Grey matter, and the mapping of areas needing involvement in the mind reading implantation from the eyes. I wasn’t sure that I could conquer this part of the research. I really needed to talk to a medical professor with intimate knowledge of the workings of the brain I think. But I would give it a go at least. If I felt that it was out of my hands, I would request a medico from Mr B. Rubin.
My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I looked at my watch. Crap! It was 2:05pm. It was Mr B. Rubin.
‘Hello Mr Rubin. Yes sir…….I am at the university library conducting research on various facets of my design sir…….time simply got away from me, I did not realise how late it was sir………I cannot tell you over the phone, sir, it would not be wise….yes, I will report at 9am precisely tomorrow sir….and I apologize that I did not make it to report to you at 2pm today…..No, it will not happen again sir…’
He hung up on me. Rude bastard! He needs to take a crash course on manners 101.
Angrily, I shoved my phone back into my pocket. I looked above the shelf that I had been currently searching in to no avail. Then there was the book that I wanted. It had been placed entirely in the wrong area – perhaps on purpose?
I reached up to grab it , and was hit by the smell of her sweet perfume, Georgia’s. My heart accelerated. I removed the book from the shelf and then turned and looked for her up and down the library isles. She wasn’t there.
My heart decelerated, disappointed. How can the memory of a smell do that to someone? Bloody Book!
I moved along the isle to locate another book that I was wanting for my research. I found it easily and then removed the large book from the shelf, effectively creating a large gap between the books so that one could see into the next isle.
I could only see half of her face framed by her glorious brown wavy hair. But it was definitely her. My heart accelerated again, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
I opened the large book and spoke to her, not making any eye contact.
‘Miss Harrison, we meet again.’
From my peripheral vision, I saw her move to the open space to look at me.
‘Mr Darcy,’ she said, her voice full of surprise. ‘Our paths cross again. What brings you here today?’
I smiled to myself. That’s Georgia, straight to the point.
‘You know, design, research, create…I am in the research phase, and you? What brings you to the heart and brain of the medical floor?’
‘Psychology research,’ she said matter of factly. I looked down at my book and smirked. How apt, psychology, reading people. That was something I needed to do with her. She was unreadable, unpredictable.
‘Are you smirking at me Mr Darcy?’ she asked, her eyes serious. Then she appeared before me in the same isle.
“’No, not at all Miss Harrison,’ I replied, keeping my voice even, refusing to make eye contact with her.
‘Liar, liar pants on fire Mr Darcy,’ she said without an ounce of humour in her voice.
Then she snapped her book closed, and bumped into me as she moved away. She turned to
I sighed as I watched them interact. Wouldn’t he love to know what she was really thinking? Then I laughed to myself. How ironic – a mind reading device – my specialty, apparently.
I returned to the fourth floor of the university library for phase two of my research – the brain. This was going to be far more problematic than research into the eye. Grey matter, and the mapping of areas needing involvement in the mind reading implantation from the eyes. I wasn’t sure that I could conquer this part of the research. I really needed to talk to a medical professor with intimate knowledge of the workings of the brain I think. But I would give it a go at least. If I felt that it was out of my hands, I would request a medico from Mr B. Rubin.
My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I looked at my watch. Crap! It was 2:05pm. It was Mr B. Rubin.
‘Hello Mr Rubin. Yes sir…….I am at the university library conducting research on various facets of my design sir…….time simply got away from me, I did not realise how late it was sir………I cannot tell you over the phone, sir, it would not be wise….yes, I will report at 9am precisely tomorrow sir….and I apologize that I did not make it to report to you at 2pm today…..No, it will not happen again sir…’
He hung up on me. Rude bastard! He needs to take a crash course on manners 101.
Angrily, I shoved my phone back into my pocket. I looked above the shelf that I had been currently searching in to no avail. Then there was the book that I wanted. It had been placed entirely in the wrong area – perhaps on purpose?
I reached up to grab it , and was hit by the smell of her sweet perfume, Georgia’s. My heart accelerated. I removed the book from the shelf and then turned and looked for her up and down the library isles. She wasn’t there.
My heart decelerated, disappointed. How can the memory of a smell do that to someone? Bloody Book!
I moved along the isle to locate another book that I was wanting for my research. I found it easily and then removed the large book from the shelf, effectively creating a large gap between the books so that one could see into the next isle.
I could only see half of her face framed by her glorious brown wavy hair. But it was definitely her. My heart accelerated again, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
I opened the large book and spoke to her, not making any eye contact.
‘Miss Harrison, we meet again.’
From my peripheral vision, I saw her move to the open space to look at me.
‘Mr Darcy,’ she said, her voice full of surprise. ‘Our paths cross again. What brings you here today?’
I smiled to myself. That’s Georgia, straight to the point.
‘You know, design, research, create…I am in the research phase, and you? What brings you to the heart and brain of the medical floor?’
‘Psychology research,’ she said matter of factly. I looked down at my book and smirked. How apt, psychology, reading people. That was something I needed to do with her. She was unreadable, unpredictable.
‘Are you smirking at me Mr Darcy?’ she asked, her eyes serious. Then she appeared before me in the same isle.
“’No, not at all Miss Harrison,’ I replied, keeping my voice even, refusing to make eye contact with her.
‘Liar, liar pants on fire Mr Darcy,’ she said without an ounce of humour in her voice.
Then she snapped her book closed, and bumped into me as she moved away. She turned to