"Big, is what he is," Nate chuckled. "Actually, he's mostly Sheepdog -- that got mixed with Saint Bernard somewhere along the line, which is what makes him so huge and also white and brown, instead of grey. Trust me --" he was cut off by the incessant ringing of "Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead" from his pocket. "Excuse me a second, sorry!" Nate rolled his eyes, answering just before it went to voicemail. "Hi Delia, yes, I know I said that just as you knew that'd never be the case. Okay, I'm on my way. No really this time, I'm not even in the bookstore anymore." He hung up on her before she could get another word in edgewise.
"Sorry about that -- my publicist slash editor slash devil's spawn beckons, so I have to run. But it was nice meeting you," Nate thought about shifting his books to offer a hand but she seemed so distant and tried so hard to avoid touching people when he'd refilled his coffee cup. So he smiled and gave a little head nod and started off in the other direction.
Delia was sure to be pissed but it wasn't his fault the publishing company wanted him to crank out novels every couple months when he felt the creative process couldn't be rushed... plus, he was stuck and didn't want to admit it. And he'd never turned up on time to one of their luncheon meetings, so her protests were half-hearted at best. They'd known each other for long enough now so she knew a lot of his quirks. He thought about surprising her with expensive takeout to try and distract her from his lack of a first draft-- No. He cut off his train of thought and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, to much complaint from people rushing by. He jogged back the few paces to where Naiya was still sitting at the outdoor cafe table. "Have dinner with me," Nate said, trying to avoid people bumping into him. "I know I'm some random stranger on the street and people don't generally do this, but why not? It'd be fun," he smiled.