Obi-Wan was not having much luck himself. Second Gift had been delivered by the same messenger, who told him the delivery had been left in the night deposit at the Temple's main office.
So, some time during the night the gifts were being brought in from outside.
"Why don't we just stake out the entrance tonight and see if we can catch whoever this is?" Suggested his padawan as he turned back over the second autographed volume of Galactic Philosophy to his Master. "I mean, if you really want to know."
"Of course I want to know." Obi-Wan declared. Or did he? Why couldn't he just wait until the Ball? It was only three days away. The accompanying card said she would reveal herself then. Maybe he should just be patient and wait.
But then it occurred to him, what if this secret admirer turned out to be someone he knew? Someone he didn't like? How awkward would that be?
Or maybe, if he was lucky, it was someone he did like.
Maybe someone like Padmé Amidala.
Obi-Wan scoffed at the ridiculous idea. Friends were all he and she were, although at one time they had wondered if they could be more. They had even shared a kiss outside her apartment building one night a couple of years ago.
But it seemed that they weren't meant to be. Job duties and other responsibilities conspired to keep them apart, and they separated on good terms with a mutual understanding they would remain close friends.
But how does one define close?
He had barely seen her in the past year, occasionally running into her as he passed through the senate building on Jedi business. She had always stopped to greet him warmly, even pressing her lips to his cheek, but was always in a hurry to rush off to whatever senatorial meeting she was heading to, and never seemed to have the time for anything else.
Whoever this was knew him well, though, he figured. They knew his love for philosophy and antique books. It must be a Jedi, he decided. And there was only one Jedi who knew him that well.
His best friend, Bant Eerin.