shrugged in agreement.
Five seconds later he was inside of her.
11
The next day, on September
twentieth, Albert Blair sat in his office pensively reviewing, for
the tenth time, the background report on the superflexible and also
apparently anal-sex loving Natalie Brookhart. He was torn but only
slightly. Five copies of Jillian's new novel, The Leg Thing , sat on his desk. He
exhaled deeply and then pulled out an overnight envelope. Inside he
placed a copy of the book along with three articles on famous
literary-related lawsuits and attached a Post-it note that simply
said, "Enjoy this, Rebecca." He sealed and addressed the envelope,
but did not include his return address information; he sent his
assistant to drop it off. His frown turned into a smile.
Over a thousand miles away, Jillian walked down
to the bookstore at the mall and searched for her new novel. She
wore sunglasses so she wouldn't be recognized and found a few
copies of her book on a shelf with other new releases; there was no
special display or promotion. She asked the clerk how it was
selling, and he just shrugged and made a face, and then got back to
work stocking a shelf. She walked back home disappointed.
At just about the same time, on the campus of
NYU, Natalie Brookhart walked into the campus bookstore and a
display of books caught her attention. Her eye was instantly drawn
to the silhouette of a ballerina in the exact pose that she made
famous at the University of Georgia. She couldn't remember how many
times she was asked to get into the position, either at parties or
in the quad outside of her dorm, but she was quite well known for
it. Hardly anyone knew the technical name for the pose; everyone
who asked always referred to it as the leg thing.
As she glanced from the image
of the ballerina to the title of the book, which read
T he Leg Thing, she saw that it was by Jaclyn West. She nearly had an
aneurysm. She rushed into the store, looked around in a panic, and
could not locate the book. She spotted a female employee. "Where is
that Jaclyn West novel you have in the window?"
The woman replied, "Oh, it's wonderful. Such a
great love story—funny too." Then she pointed toward the display.
Natalie rushed over and picked up a copy. She read the jacket
description:
Anastasia White is a disillusioned, recently divorced, world-famous
fashion designer. Brice Nelson is a tennis-obsessed, college senior
who’s unlucky in love, and the roommate and best friend of
Anastasia’s son, Ryder. He’s infatuated with a superflexible,
ex-ballet dancer co-ed named Rebecca, who’s toying with his
affections. When Ryder brings Brice home for spring break, and he
meets the surprisingly young and also tennis-passionate Anastasia,
their shared interest quickly develops into an intense mutual
attraction...
"Holy shit!" Natalie said as
she stopped reading the jacket and began flipping through the book.
She turned pages until she spotted the name Rebecca. Then she read
a paragraph about Brice watching Rebecca get into the leg thing
position as it was written in exquisite detail. She smiled and
flipped through more of the book until she just happened on the
term technical virgin . Her mouth shot open as she read all the explicit details of
Rebecca explaining it to Brice. It made Rebecca sound like an
idiot. Natalie scowled, slammed the book closed, turned to the back
cover, and stared at the picture of the smiling Jillian Grayson.
She glanced back to the display of forty copies of the slanderous
novel, and her blood began to boil.
Natalie headed to the door with the book in
hand. The clerk standing nearby watched in shock as she walked past
her and was a foot from the door. The clerk said with concern, "Is
there anything else I can help you find?"
Natalie came back to the planet. "Oh sorry. I'll
just take this."
The clerk held out her hand, Natalie handed over
the book, and then followed her to the counter, "Can't wait to