+TYPED OUT-

+LONGING?-

Meredith went to spy on Monday's whereabouts. If it weren't for Monday's lipstick, the woman would not have recognized her. Monday switched her hairstyle for butterfly locks, and she wore these giant pastel pink butterfly winged glasses. The glasses' color matched the oversized sweater she sported with pink NB 1300 and paper bag jeans.

Perhaps Kenneth wouldn't notice her either, thought the assistant. When absorbed by work, the man remarked nothing.

 Meredith could not suspect that Kenneth had raised his gaze to scrutinize the silhouette of a woman with a pink sweater that walked by his booth earlier that day. The man discarded the image, convinced his mind played tricks on him. He had checked the fairs' lineup more than once. There was no way for Monday to be there. The Berlin fair only invited the top fifty sellers of the market, Dayé Yenis' novels weren't even in the top hundred there.

Kenneth almost found himself wishing such a coincidence could happen. He had provoked everything until then. The man who privileged all things logic hoped for something irrational to occur for once.

If it did, Kenneth would readily accept the concept of love as an unexplainable phenomenon. The thought lingered for a few minutes before being scrapped by the man who gave a very energetic conference in his tortilla jean shirt, dark rinse jeans, and forest green NB 1300.

No, Kenneth didn't cultivate a dress sense overnight.

While the man regained his booth, Meredith screamed Eureka within as she finally found something that would delist Monday forever. The woman wished to cry with joy; the finding was too good to be true. Meredith was sure the man was unaware of the factor. Otherwise, Monday would never have had the opportunity to go to his suite. 

Now all Meredith had to do was make sure Kenneth discovered it in the most natural of manners. She hurried to return to the booth as Monday went back to Dagmars' after her short pause and a passage in the ladies' room to fix her lipstick.

Dagmar was very conscientious. Unlike Monday, who lazed about in her booth, when the visitor flux lowered, the woman went around to speak to other professionals. Monday found her placing name cards in a small folder dedicated to them.

"You are so professional, Dagmar. Wow, I'm impressed."

The woman smiled and redid her tight ponytail, "We write because we're passionate, but it's also business Dayé. Charles promotes, but we have to get ourselves out there. Germans love processed procedures. They like meeting authors first and having casual conservation. At the second encounter, one can expose their desire without being pushy; at the third, one can inquire about an opportunity.

"Sounds with Japanese-ish."

"Germans and Scandinavians always look cool and friendly on the outside, but no one is more stuck up than us in reality," Dagmar said as she closed her folder and began to sign again.

"Monday."

The woman blinked at the sight of the unexpected visitor.

"Ben, hey, what are you doing here?"

"Let's say I wanted to spend some time with you gals."

Monday slid her head back, "is Lennon here?"

Ben pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he lowered his gaze, "yes, he's here."

The couple had picked up where they left off two years earlier. The men kept the relationship low-key as Ben didn't want people to think he profited from Lennons' position or notoriety.

"How is it going?" Ben asked while he swept the booth with his gaze.

"Very good so far," Dagmar replied. Monday nodded to support the authoresses reply.

"Love the frames," Ben said while scanning Monday's attire.

"I hate wearing glasses. I usually only wear them when I write."

"But are you supposed to have them all the time?"

"Yes, no offense Ben, but I'm not a fan of the bookworm straight out of Hogwarts style."

Dagmar giggled, "Monday, you sure have unique comparisons."

"Thank you, Monday," said the man who was visually a tall and slender Asian version of Harry Potter with his round glasses and short ruffled jet black hair.

"Oh, Ben, I'm only kidding. So, what are you going to do?"

"I thought I could give you guys a hand since I'm here."

Monday looked at Dagmar, who shrugged, "the more, the merrier."

Ben posed his bag and began to welcome the visitors. He and Monday sold more than forty copies in less than an hour.

"Wow, we might not have enough copies to hold the whole fair."

"I know Charles always asks to have backup stashed at the office. Perhaps he can do a DHL for us. I'll give the office a call."

Dagmar sighed, relieved, "thanks, Ben, you're a lifesaver."

Monday didn't suspect how enthusiastic the readers were about Dagmars' books. She set the goal to sell as many books as possible to boost Dagmars' and their publishing house profits.

 During this time, Kenneth took a shortcut behind their booth with Meredith and Rob. His podcast was about to begin; still, the man halted his step as he heard a familiar voice echo. The temptation to contour to see where the laughter came from was strong.

"Kenneth?"

The man shook his head and advanced; it seemed the setting and particular ambiance of the book fair triggered a form of desire that made the man believe Monday was present somewhere. Kenneth searched for her face amongst the listeners even while he did his talk.

Happy, alone?

Kenneth almost regretted his famous title. The time spent with Monday plagued his mind. The man thought that being with her was pleasant as he sat down for a podcast about conscious leadership.

He wondered if the woman even evoked him. She had his number, though.

Kenneth could not suspect that it was all about survival and keeping her sanity for the woman.

Yes, Monday thought of him.

Yes, she wished Kenneth would call or that she had the confidence to do it.

It was challenging, but Monday had lived and learned enough to know there was no point pursuing to see him if the man wasn't ready to follow his advice and invest in a relationship. 

The woman didn't want a fling. Monday dreamt of the relationships she offered her readers. Her fictional men were reliable and decisive. They dived right into their love stories without knowing if they would float. When they failed, they tried again.

Monday had to put the brakes on her fantasies. Her men tried when they were in love, and it wasn't Kenneths' case. 

They had slept together twice. Monday still thought she gave in to him too quickly, for Kenneth to develop a subtle form of attachment.

No, his heart couldn't beat for her?

She had the three weeks of radio silence as prove. No man did that when interested.