Blair sat behind the desk that was set up for her in the small bookstore in Manhattan and signed all the books that slid her way on the surface. Her third book in a series about New York's elite private schools was a critical hit for a young adult book where drugs, drinking and sex were at the forefront. It was being helmed as the new Gossip Girl, whatever that was, but the fact that she had lived it made the writing that much more sincere.

She smiled briefly at the next girl in line before starting to sign her name again. "Thank you for coming," Blair said, smiling sweetly before passing the book back. As the girl walked away and another came to the table, Blair went the same motions. Her publicist and agent both agreed that half her appeal was her young age and it factor and to play it up, she was to talk to everyone in line. She was to give at least a hi but no more than a few sentences because while they wanted her to seem, to her fans, untouchable.

Taking the next book without looking up, she started to sign the B then the l and then she was interrupted by the sound of the person in front of her coughing. "Do you need a tissue?" she asked, her attitude slightly sipping up as she tried to dodge the germs she was sure were now floating about. Manhattan was only the first stop in her nationwide book tour and she couldn't be getting sick. When she looked up, she was surprised to see a familiar face as the source of the coughing.

"Humphrey."

"Waldorf," he responded, smugly smirking as he took his copy back without letting her finish the rest of her name.

"What are you doing here if you don't want my full John Hancock?" she asked, raising her perfectly manicured brows. "Give me the book back so no one who browses your snooty library in your apartment thinks a person named BR wrote this."

Dan shook his head and laughed, "I don't want your signature, Waldorf."

"Then why did you just stand in line for it?" she asked, craning her neck to look around him where a line of pre-teens and teens were waiting with their phones out to meet her. "I have a lot of people to meet before I can open the bottle of champagne the owner of this store so nicely sent me."

Dan laughed again and looked down at her, "I bet it was your favorite kind, too."

Blair rested her chin on her fist as she leaned on the table, "As a matter of fact, it was. He or she must have done their research. Now, please, move to the side so I can continue on with this torture." She dropped her voice as she muttered the last word and looked to her agent, who was standing close by, to make sure no one had heard her. Surprisingly, her agent wasn't stepping in to help get rid of the pest that was taking up her airspace. "Don't you have some garbage to pick up in your lovely area of Brooklyn?"

He squatted down to her level and cocked his head to the side, "You have no idea who owns this place, do you?"

"No, and why should I?"

"Well next time you book a signing at a former classmate's bookstore, maybe you'll do your research and gift him with his favorite kind of bourbon in return for that champagne I bought you." Dan winked as he stood up and glanced at his watch. "You have one more hour left," he said, turning to her agent who nodded. "I hope you type faster than you sign your name, Waldorf, because otherwise it must have taken you years to write these three books."

Blair sat her mouth wide open before looking at her agent. "He owns this place?"

Blair wrapped her coat around her body as she gathered her things up from the book signing an hour later. Her hand was exhausted and her throat scratchy from all the talking she was forced to do, but at least she was done until next week when she would be in a new book store practically daily for a month.

"Waldorf." She spun around on her heel and glared at Dan. "It was nice to see you."

Blair wrinkled her nose and decided that the comment didn't merit a response as she slung her oversized bag on to her shoulder.

"Aren't you going to at least thank me for that generous bottle of champagne? I think the price sky rocketed since the last time I purchased it."

Blair rolled her eyes and held out the bag that had the champagne in it to him. "Here. A present."

"A regift?" he asked, visibly amused.

Blair nodded, "I think it was purchased not as a gift but as a guilt session. So I will pass and buy my own on my way home. I need it after this day."

"Isn't this just the start?" Dan asked, walking towards her but avoiding taking the bag. "And the champagne is yours. It truly was a gift, you brought more business here than the last few weeks put together. Hopefully, with the holidays approaching, the season for giving and buying will just grow. But if you want to set up permanent residency in that spot and bring in all those teenagers looking for some vampire romances, please, be my guest." Dan put his hands together and gave her a slight bow.

Blair scoffed and brought her arms to her side, letting the bag with the champagne down slowly to the floor. "I didn't know you owned a book store. And especially not this book store." She put the emphasis on the this. It was her favorite bookstore in the entire city, and maybe in the world. It had cozy nooks and crannies where when she wasn't writing, she would come to and sit for an hour or two engulfed in a novel. It was her own escape corner in the busy metropolis of Manhattan. She had requested the New York signing to be here, if she could, over the Barnes and Noble her agent suggested. If she had to deal with bratty teenagers, not unlike herself at that age, then she wanted to be in a place that made her feel comfortable.

"Why not this book store?"

"I just come here a lot. I've never seen you."

Dan shrugged, "I've seen you."

"You creep," she laughed, adjusting the bag on her arm. "Since when?"

"A couple of years? Not that I got the most profits with my book, but I got some and used it, and some investors money, on this place."

"Book store investors?"

"Mostly old rich men looking for a place to play bridge while also being able to take home the latest mystery novel to their wives. I let them use the place on Sunday's when I close it for business. They're not really looking for a money return more than a life return. I'd like to think I help them with that."

"Sweet."

"Your voice sounds like you think the opposite."

"Maybe. But I do love this place. The entire atmosphere is incredible, especially the server yourself espresso machine. I don't know how you make any money."

"I make very little money," Dan confirmed. "But I live upstairs so I don't have rent on that, and I like what I do."

"Why don't you write again?" Blair asked, "Your book was pretty decent."

"Better than the crap your spurting out," Dan smirked, holding up a copy of her book that was on the nearest table.

Blair looked, and felt, offended. "Hey, it's not crap. Maybe it's not high brow, but it's not crap."

"It's not," Dan shook his head, a curl falling out of place and into his eye. "It's not crap, I mean. Sorry, that was cruel of me. It's actually not bad, for what it is. And the main characters remind me of two girls I once knew."

"As the front page will tell you, any familiarity to any real person is purely a coincidence," Blair shrugged before laughing. "I wanted to write a memoir, but my publisher said no one was going to read a socialites memoir of boozing, so I changed some names up and bam, a young adult novel with all the lacings to make parents worry. I had to get Serena, Nate and Chuck to sign off that they wouldn't sue me. I don't think they would, but my lawyers heavily advised on it."

"I thought a lot of the scenes rang familiar."

Blair smiled and lifted her shoulders slightly. "I write what I know."

"And what you know are some shitty people with their parents money to spend."

A silence fell over them as Blair tried to decide on her next move. "I should go, Dan. It was actually pretty pleasant to run into you here. I'm sure you'll be seeing me again," she nodded.

Dan walked towards her and then past her to get the door for her. "It was nice to see you, Waldorf. I'll be looking forward to the fourth book. Maybe a certain lonely boy will make an appearance."