She smirked. "That's none of your business." And with that, she tossed the paperback to her friend, who with a smirk of her own, opened it up to the title page.
But soon her smirk faded. She turned a few more pages before looking up in apparent confusion.
Darbie asked, "What's wrong?"
With a little frown, the brunette replied, "The signature. It's gone."
Darbie gave a snort of disbelief. "Oh, stop it. It is not." Darbie reached over, yanked the book out of her friend's grip, and began leafing through the pages. Soonshewas frowning, too.
From this angle, I couldn’t see the book's interior, but Icouldsee their confusion as plain as day.
The brunette sidled closer to Darbie and said, "Do you think he used disappearing ink or something?"
In unison, they both looked to me.
I shook my head. "Don't askme.I have no idea."
And I didn't.
But boy, did I ever want to find out.
Chapter 34
Becka
As we headed to the airport, I gave Jack yet another sideways glance. He was engrossed in his cell phone, saying nothing as the limo driver navigated the busy morning traffic.
Recalling my vow to no longer pester him with questions, I hadn't asked about the book – although heaven knows I wanted to.
Earlier at the hotel, by the time Jack had arrived in the lobby, the two girls had already stomped off, looking confused and irritated.
I could definitely relate.
I still had no idea why the paperback in Darbie's possession no longer contained Jack's signature. Recalling the brunette's theory, I almost rolled my eyes. Disappearing ink?Please.I wasn't buyingthatfor a minute.
No.Obviously the book had been switched out for another copy.
But when?
During the actual signing?
No.I'd been there. I surely would've seen. Plus, Darbie would've noticedthatright away.
This led to my next theory. Maybe Jack had switched out the books sometime afterward.But how?
And then, there was the dumbest theory of all. Maybe Darbie and her friend had gotten a second paperback and were just messing with me.
But that wasn't believable either. For one thing, the book's cover was several years outdated, which meant that an identical book wouldn't be easy to find – not unless they robbed a library or found a copy in some used book store.
On top of that, I'd seen their reactions to the unsigned book. They'd been just as surprised as I was.
This meant it was definitely Jack's doing.
As these thoughts churned in my brain, I gave Jack yet another glance, only to freeze in mid-motion when I realized that he was no longer looking at his phone.
He was looking atme.
It wasn't just a glance either. He was giving me one of those penetrating looks, like he was trying to puzzle something out.
