It was Wednesday. Reid only knew this because the doorman delivered another letter to his door. Tucked inside the envelope had been a polaroid of his notebook, taken in some coffee shop, with pink sugar packets adorning the cover. On the back of the photo the mystery girl had written:

Don’t forget!

Reid wondered if this would be like a blind date who turns out to be exactly the kind of person you cross the street to avoid. Reid picked up a bottle of wine that lay next to him and drank heavily from it. He rose to his feet and checked his pocket watch that lay buried under heaps of blank paper.

11:00.

He groaned, as desperately as he wanted his notebook, his livelihood, he was not ready to leave his apartment and travel around the city meeting strange women with polaroid cameras who were probably holding the notebook ransom for some illegal substance.