Chapter One

"Finally!" Nash Cove shouted in excitement. His voice carried a wave of victory as he jumped from his chair, his fist darted into the air following his excitement. "About damn time," He continued. Nash lowered himself back into the chair, examining the information on his laptop screen. He calmed himself; this was information he had been awaiting for months. Before he got overly excited, he made sure to read it over once more.

Moonbeancactus: I know this book. You can find it at a bookstore named The Book Nook. Good luck. Cactus out!

P.S: The owner is... I'll leave that up to you.

Nash was hunting for his favorite novel- A piece of literature of esteemed greatness, according to his words. He became a starving lion lying in wait for his prey. Nash was jumping from forum to forum, app to app desperate for something to bite on. Just as he was about to give up, a question he posted on the BookNerds Forum threw him some well-needed chunks of meat to a starving dog. Nash almost missed it. It has been months since he posted it, and Nash considered deleting it. BookNerds is a website aimed at readers to connect when in reality, all they did was shit on people for the books they read-A site full of trolls and self-obsessed reading enthusiasts. Nash couldn't stress how desperate he was to rely on such self-absorbed people who thought their reading list was better than others. However, his younger years of joining the website were fun. He met some great people, but now all he met were trolls under his life-or-death question.

It was a bite Nash wasn't going to let go of. This lead meant a lot-and his last shot at finding the physical copy of his favorite book since the beginning of time. Nash hurriedly searched for the location of The Book Nook on his phone. As if Lady Luck threw him that long-awaited luck he desired, the bookstore was only a 30-minute drive away.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." He repeated, clenching his phone. Nash thanked Moonbeancactus, telling him he was doing the Lord's work.

It was two in the morning, and Nash wanted to run to the bookstore to check if it was there. He didn't want to imagine the sheer disappointment if it wasn't available. The only way he could describe it was when visiting his grandmother's house and opening a cookie tin to reveal needles and threads. Why do they do that?; A real disappointment for a kid and the beginning of his trust issues. This time, it could make or break his future.

***

Nash considered himself a good-looking guy, handsome, a boost to his self-esteem. He was growing out his brown curly hair, had light brown eyes, and stood on average height for the male species. What Nash considered his main feature was the three moles dotted on his face, one under each eye and the other on the left side of his chin. A stark difference from the classic neatly kept, chiseled jawline and filthy-rich CEO that gets the girl even when he's being an ass, but he loves it either way. It was a case that requires a deep study on why CEOs are being an ass in romance novels and still getting the girl or guy, but when you're rich, nothing makes sense.

Nash wouldn't mind if a CEO swept him off his feet. Wasn't that every reader's fantasy? "How I Nasht the CEO Heart." Millions just by the title. Putting his fun and jokes aside, Nash was ready to head out. Wearing light-colored ripped jeans, a white T-shirt with a cute design, and white shoes showcased he didn't care too much when inside he was jumping for joy.

The Book Nook sign didn't come into view when he arrived, prompting Nash to think Cactus and Google deceived him. The odd name for a bookstore hid in the shadows of the streets. Nash opened the door of the small bookstore, the chime above seeing better days. Shelves overflowed with books, spilling over onto the floor into stacked piles. The smell of books filled the air.

There's no way I could find it amongst this mountain of books.

A worker was his only option.

Behind the small desk was an aesthetic different from his own, elbows propped on the counter, slightly tilted to the side as he flipped through a book, a lollipop stuck in his mouth. He wasn't the type seen in a bookstore but the type written in a book Nash read before. Tattoo decorated his skin, a wolf cut that was a chef's kiss. He sported a black leather jacket and undershirt, earning points from Nash with just his appearance.

"Excuse me," Nash said. The guy looked at him, placing his book face down and removing his lollipop. "I'm looking for a book: Not so Married."

The guy dared to scoff, making Nash give him a puzzled look. He went beneath the desk, searching through the piles of books. Plopping the book on the counter, he said, "The last one we have. I'll sell you it for $500."

Nash was shocked. He had a sudden diagnosis of hearing problems because there was no way the book cost $500. "You meant $5.00 at a really discounted price," Nash replied in an attempt to have him repeat himself.

"For a signed book, I think that's a decent price," He said, opening the book to reveal the signature. "They stopped printing this crappy book anyways."

"That's a rip-off," Nash shouted. "I'll have you know this is a top seller. I can give you five reasons why this book isn't crappy."

"And I can give you ten why it is. Let's stop the theatrics. Take it or leave it."

There was no way Nash's long-awaited encounter with his favorite book was turning out like this. He remembered Moonbeancactus P.S. about the owner. With little, basically, no information to go on, Nash went in blind. Was this what customer service was coming to? The world was going to shit if people couldn't buy something in peace. Though the customer isn't always right, the service isn't always good. Yet, the world dared to dream of world peace. The biggest delusion from the time Nash thought he would be a sugar baby. But one can only dream.

Nash clenched his fist, taking a deep breath before he spoke, "For a crappy book, the price sure is high," Nash met his dark brown eyes. "Besides, as a "salesman" aren't you supposed to be convincing me to buy the book? You don't even need to convince me. I'll take that nuisance off your hands." Nash couldn't leave like this. He didn't make the trip to return empty-handed.

He tapped the book, contemplating Nash's words. As if his mouth, set on backtalk, he replied, "If you're looking for a "Salesman" to sell you lies, look elsewhere. That $500 contains my time and shelf space."

Nash didn't understand why he was putting in so much effort to prevent him from buying the book. If something was an eyesore, the best thing to do was to get it out of sight-something Nash was offering to do. This guy was: either having a bad day, looking for someone to take his frustration out on, or Nash did something to him even though it was the first time they met, or he disliked Nash. Hate at first sight.

"Do you own this bookstore?" Nash asked.

"I work here,"

"Would your boss take well to you not selling what needs to sell?" Nash was willing to take that route. The guy was pushing him to the edge. "Where's your boss?"

"This shouldn't even be selling," He replied. "You're the type to call for the manager?"

"In a situation where the staff is unbearable instead of taking my money and giving me the book, yes. I'll call the manager, the boss, even the head office. And to add a little sprinkle, the CEO." Nash replied. He wasn't the type to be this extra. It was all words. This bookstore looked like it had two workers at most. The owner and this poor attempt at a sales rep.

"I am the boss, the manager, and the man in charge. Oh, and to add a little sprinkle, the CEO. Call me whatever you want." He said, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked at Nash, leaning on the counter. "Tell you what. You do me a favor, and I'll give you this book free of cost."

"How can I trust you?"

"Here," He reached under the counter, pushing a pair of sunglasses toward Nash. "These are my favorite. You can return them when I call you in for that favor."

Nash hesitated. How would he know he valued these glasses? With his options limited, Nash picked up the glasses. "Don't go changing your mind. I really need that book."

"I'm a man of my word," He replied. "Your number?" Nash reluctantly gave him his number. He waved Nash off with a smile, acting like he hadn't raised Nash's blood pressure just minutes ago. As Nash stood outside the bookstore, glasses in hand, a different prize from his initial target, moved his body in a frustrating fit. Determined, he was getting that book one way or another.