Gavin quietly stepped from the cab, paid the driver, and headed toward the doorman standing at the entrance of the hotel. "Good evening Mr. Dane," the doorman offered. "Good evening Phil." Gavin responded. Inside, Gavin walked slowly, taking in his surroundings. He had just recently rented a suite at this Hotel. The Glade was the premier hotel on the west side of the city. Gavin hadn't always been a "hotel" kind of individual. Early on, he had stayed at cheap motels, living in a manner that would not attract attention. He had decided, only recently, to upgrade to a more lavish lifestyle...more in tune with the wealth he had accumulated.

Although the penthouse was available, and well within his means, he had taken a suite on the 18th floor of the popular hotel. As he stepped off the elevator, he took his card from his wallet and "swiped" it once to gain entry to his suite. Inside, he could not help but grin as he tossed his jacket onto the chair closest to the door. As he loosened his tie, he thought of the book signing he had just left. He had found himself at the center of attention...and why not? Everyone was wanting to get a peek at the author whose first novel had just made the best sellers list. "Stolen" was a hit...a "slam dunk". He had not entered the literary world, he had invaded it...taking no prisoners in the process. His eyes still burned from the lights and cameras. Laura Tate, his agent, had more than done her job. Journalists and other media types seemed to come out of the woodwork...all wanting a word or statement from the talented young author. Beyond Words, the upscale bookstore located just blocks from his hotel, was packed with people. Everyone wanted a copy of their book signed by Gavin. He was supposed to have read a couple of chapters of the novel to those who had come to see him. Instead, he had spent nearly two hours telling story after story of how he had painstakingly researched the book. By the time he was finished, there was no time for him to read...he simply began to sign copies and quickly answers questions posed to him by reporters and other journalists. Having never been to a booksigning, he had no idea how he had fared. At the end, Laura simply snatched him away, placed him into a cab, and told him to go back to his hotel. "You have done enough tonight, Gavin." She almost whispered."There are still press conferences and the talk show circuit. For the next few weeks, you are going to be a busy fellow." As she backed away from the cab, she said, "Given tonight's response, I have no doubt that "Stolen" will, in a few months, be in line for a movie deal."

After a long, hot shower, Gavin ordered room service, plopped down on the couch, and turned on the tv. As if guided by the gods of fate, he saw himself standing in the bookstore. He smiled broadly at seeing his image staring back at him. He listened, with interest, as he heard himself say, "Stolen is a novel about Jack Dancy, a pickpocket who amasses a fortune by simply stealing cash. Dancy decides, early on, that credit cards, jewelry, and other trinkets are simply "deathtraps" to a pick pocket. By choosing places where the "cash is flowing"...strip clubs, casinos, race tracks, and resorts, Dancy proves that his focus on cash brings "worry free wealth"! Dancy is smart enough to realize that, unlike credit cards and expensive trinkets, cash comes with no need for a "middle man"...there is nothing to be fenced or sold. The time wasted looking for a fence can be channeled back into what Dancy does best...stealing and pocketing cash!"

The knock at the door pulls Gavin back to the present. Clicking off the tv, he strides to the door to allow room service to serve him supper. For special guests, room service includes a waiter to serve the meal. Gavin, though only on the 18th floor, is such a guest. Notoriety is not without its priviledges.

After supper, Gavin lies back on the couch to contemplate all that has happened. He finds his eyes drawn to the laptop lying on the table near his bed. "Writing is tough work." Gavin says to himself. "Stealing is so much easier...and much more fun." Gavin could not help laughing at the hilarity of the whole idea of being an author. He had started out to simply "journal" his adventures. The hardest part was trying to think of a name to use. In the end, he chose Dancy because it rhymed with Clancy, one of his favorite authors.

Gavin was still laughing when Laura, his agent, called to say goodnight. "Do you call all your clients like this?" Gavin asked. "No", Laura replied, "Just the successful ones." "Tell me, Gavin", she asked warmly. "What is Jack Dancy going to do next?" Gavin turned the question over in his mind carefully before answering. "Honestly", he started, "I don't know for sure...I do know, for a fact, he will have to keep stealing...!" "Get some sleep, Gavin" Laura told him. "You have a busy day tomorrow!"

Gavin tossed the receiver back into its cradle and, again, found himself gazing intently at the laptop. He didn't feel like getting any sleep...nor did he feel like preparing for a busy day. "I'm not a writer...I'm a thief!" he hissed angrily. He wasn't used to this kind of attention. At first, the notoriety was flattering...the thoughts of being in the spotlight were intriguing. But, after the first few days, it had all begun to wear on him. He was used to coming and going as he pleased...sleeping all day and "snatching" at night. Now, he was expected to simply lie down, forget the events of the day, and get the needed rest to face more of the same tomorrow.

Sometime later, in the wee hours of the morning, Gavin felt himself drifting off to sleep. He had made a decision. He had always been the master of his own destiny. He was determined to live as he always had. Although the sudden fame of having a novel published had caught him off guard, he was confident that he would be able to recoup...to adjust...to get back to the life he had always known. Earlier in the evening, he had called the front desk and told them that he did not, under any circumstances, want to be disurbed. The voice on the other end of the phone assured him that the hotel staff would comply with his wishes completely. Gavin remembered how Laura Tate had told him to get some rest...that tomorrow was going to be a busy day. "Busy for her", he thought to himself. As for me, I will get back to the life I have made for myself!"

Megan Waters, manager of The Glade Hotel did not like to be interrupted. Having taken the helm of what investors had decided was a sinking ship, she had, in five short years, taken the hotel from obscurity to prominence. These days, she spent most of her time conferring with potential clients. The Glade was quickly becoming the address for the "movers and shakers" from all around the city. Her plans were to broaden that base to include the county, state, counrty, and soon, globe.

The interruption came in the form of an "instant message" that appeared on the computer screen in her private office. She had dragged the entire staff, kicking and screaming, into the world of cyberspace. Instead of babbling over the phone, within earshot of a frustrated guest, the staff could now silently message her...without ever taking their eyes off the situation in front of them. As Megan read the message, she almost laughed at its content. Apparently, there was a literary agent, named Laura Tate, waiting in the lobby for Gavin Dane, the novelist residing in a suite on the 18th floor of the hotel. Mr. Dane had instructed the front desk that he did not want to be disturbed. The front desk was doing all they knew to do in order to accomodate him.

Megan left her office and briskly walked to the lobby area. As she entered the lobby, she took inventory of the situation. On the other side of the front desk stood a young woman. Without looking at her employee behind the front desk, Megan strode to the other side of the counter, extended her hand, and said, "Ms. Tate, I am Megan Waters, manager of The Glade. I can certainly understand your frustration. I am sure you have been told that Mr. Dane has left explicit instructions that he does not want to be disturbed. However, if you will give me just a second, I will speak to Mr. Dane personally, and see that you are not kept waiting any longer than is absolutely necessary. Without giving Laura Tate time to respond, Megan quickly turned to take waiting receiver from the hand of her desk clerk...While Megan had been speaking to Ms. Tate, her desk clerk had called Mr. Dane's room and had gotten Gavin on the line. Within seconds, Megan was, once again, facing Laura Tate. "Mr. Dane", she began, "Is terribly sorry he has inconvenienced you. He says that he will be down to meet you, here in the lobby, shortly. Again, before Laura Tate could respond, Megan was already heading back to her office. As she walked past her desk clerk, she smiled warmly at the young lady. She made a mental note to email the operations manager as soon as she returned to her office. Such professionalism should not go unrewarded.

Laura Tate could hardly control her anger. Gavin Dane, though a talented author, showed no interest, whatsoever, in the plans she had made for him. She'd had her share of egocentric authors. She was certain she could control Gavin, it was just hard to understand how anyone could show so little interest in something they had set out to achieve. She thought of hundreds of talented writers who would give all they own to be in Gavin's shoes. Yet, he seemed determined to undermine her every attempt to push him toward the spotlight.

She was still fuming when she spotted Gavin approaching her. If he felt any remorse at what he'd just put her through, he certainly did not show it. When she was certain he was within earshot, she said, "I want you to know, upfront, that no one has ever kept me waiting this long!" Gavin never slowed his pace, nor showed any change of facial expression. When he reached her, he stated flatly, "I am used to doing things that no one else has ever done before." The look on his face told her that she could expect no further comment in regards to what he had forced her to endure. She stood there for a moment...honestly wondering what she should do next. Before she could make up her mind, he leaned toward her, placed his hand on the small of her back, and shifted his body...nudging her slightly, and said, "Let's go to breakfast...I'm starving." Laura was still fuming as they got into the limousine.

Though still angry, Laura decided to overlook the fiasco Gavin had orchestrated at the hotel. If he was trying to make some kind of statement, her contempt would only fuel the fire. Instead, she decided she would completely ignore his earlier behavior...she would take her time with Gavin. She had never handled a client who had this much potential. She was still thinking of how to coax Gavin into doing as she wished when they finished breakfast. Gavin attempted to pick up the check. Laura quickly snatched it from his hand and said, "You have the potential to make me more money than I would ever know how to spend. This breakfast is on me!" The look on the young author's face told her that she had gained some ground in their relationship. In fact, for a moment, she saw an expression on his face she had never seen before...an almost boyish look of embarrassment much like that of a child having his hand caught in the cookie jar. As quickly as the expression appeared, it vanished. Laura was still trying to think of something to say when she dicovered her wallet was missing.

Back in the limousine, Laura, again, apologized to Gavin. "I have no idea what has become of my wallet. I know I had it this morning. It was all so embarrassing!" "Don't worry about it", Gavin replied. "I always carry a bit of cash with me...it was no big deal." "It is a big deal", Laura said heatedly..."All my credit cards, driver's license, social security card, and three hundred dollars in cash... They're all gone!" As they pulled up in front of the hotel, Gavin turned to Laura and said, "Listen, you are obviously upset. Come up to my room. We can call around. We'll even call the police if we need to...C'mon, it will all be ok."

Upon leaving the elevator, Gavin, again, allowed his hand to gently touch the small of her back, leaned in, and nudged her..."Cheer up! "You'll see", he continued, "Everything will be ok." Once in his room, Gavin tossed his coat onto the chair nearest the door. He then began loosening his tie. He stopped, pointed to the sofa, and said, "Sit!" Laura, still in shock over the disappearance of her wallet, quickly complied. Once seated, she found he had postioned himself directly in front of her...standing, almost, over her. "Before we call the police", he began, "Take another look into your purse." "There is no use", she said. "I emptied my purse on the table of the restaurant...my wallet is gone!" Gavin, again, spoke softly, "Just look again." Laura, feeling the temperature beginning to rise on the back of her neck, grabbed the purse, opened it, and emptied its contents onto the cushion beside her. There, in the midst of all the necessities every woman crams into her purse, lay the wallet. She picked it up, as if it might be armed to explode at any moment. Gingerly, she opened it up and began to take inventory of its contents. "Everything is here", she said weakly. "Everything, except the three hundred dollars in cash."

Gavin sat down on the sofa beside her. Without speaking, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a neatly folded little wad of bills. "If you count this", he stated, "You will find there's three hundred dollars here." As Laura sat there, staring at the money in Gavin's hand, he continued. "This morning, at the hotel, when I brushed against you, I took your wallet. A few moments ago, just outside the elevator, I brushed up against you again...I put the wallet back. Your credit cards, driver's license, social security card...they are all there. Only the cash is missing...because, I only steal cash...!"

Unable to speak, Laura simply sat there, staring back at Gavin. Convinced she had nothing to say, he continued. "You said, I have the potential to make you more money than you could ever spend. You are right. For example, it took me five seconds to steal three hundred dollars from you. For a working man, that figures out to be about $3600.00 an hour...which is not bad. A forty hour week would generate about $144,000.00...tax free! Of course, the circles I travel in involves people who carry more than $300.00 on their person. But, I think we should just stay with the example I have just given you. Of course there is the book. If you are as good as you say you are, we are looking at thousands of dollars in both book and movie royalties. That is, if we stop right here, right now. Until caught, I will keep stealing. Whether or not I write another page in the life of Jack Dancy is entirely up to you."

Laura sat limply on the sofa. It was as if there were no energy in any of her limbs. Her throat was dry and her tongue felt as though it were three sizes too large for her mouth. After several minutes, she finally managed to speak. "Why tell me? Why now? Why would you risk everything to admit something so dreadful to me?"

Gavin looked at Laura for a long time before speaking. When he began, she noted that he seemed as if he were, just now, feeling the full impact of what he had told her. "I told you", he began,"Because you have been nice to me. I realize, by representing me, you have a chance to make a lot of money. I also realize that you might be tempted to walk away from the whole thing. You already are guaranteed to make a considerable sum of money off what I have already done. I just couldn't help wondering what you might do if you knew the truth. You could turn me in now and have your fifteen minutes of fame. I could say that you were in on it the whole time...I wouldn't, but I could. Or, you could simply decide to go along for the ride...going to different cities, living in the nicest hotels and resorts...all the while, awaiting the next chapter in the life of Jack Dancy. If you are half as talented as you say you are, soon, the entire world would be wondering what Jack Dancy is going to do next. I have laid all the cards on the table. The choice is yours to make."

Laura looked at Gavin as if seeing him for the first time. She thought of how he'd handled himself in front of the press at the book signing. He was right. There was more money at stake than she had ever imagined possible. She was good at what she did. She had no doubt that Jack Dancy would have an audience for years to come. She looked up at Gavin. As she looked into his eyes, she found herself thinking of how she'd felt when he brushed up against her in the hotel lobby...and, again, when they had stepped off the elevator. She was used to having to make big decisions quickly. But this...this was a decision that would alter the course of her life completely. There was a part of her that was scared...frightened almost beyond reason. Yet, there was a growing sense of recklessness...a wild and thrilling sense of...of what, she didn't even know.

Although standing there, looking relaxed, she knew Gavin had taken risk beyond any he had ever dared imagine. Unable to think of anything else to say, she asked, "Did you really plan for all of this to happen...just this way?" Gavin, turning away, as if suddenly shy, began to speak haltingly. "I don't know...maybe...no, well, Dammit!" He turned to her quickly, fell to his knees...bringing his eyes to her level, and said, "Have you ever witnessed something so amazing...so unbelievably thrilling that you simply had to tell someone...only to realize that there is no one there to tell?" He looked deeply into her eyes, then continued. "I dunno, I guess I just came to a point where I began to look for someone...someone to see what I see...exactly when I see it. I really didn't know it was going to be you...I really didn't...but, I guess it is going to be you...at least, I hope it will be you."

Laura slowly leaned forward...moving to within inches of Gavin's face. He had, in his amazing confession, laid his entire life at her feet. Trying to remain calm, she stared into his eyes intently and whispered, "So, how do we seal the deal...do we shake hands...or kiss?" Gavin, now visibly moved, responded, "I would prefer we kiss...we have already shook hands...!"