Sterling's Gold.
Pete almost doesn't believe it when he sees the book on the Rec Room shelf. Still, when he sees the title followed by the words 'by Roger Sterling' on the spine, he pulls it out, staring, slightly dumbfounded, at the dust jacket (the ink sketch of the author on the back isn't bad) until he reaches a chair, then proceeding to sit
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"Do you know him, Roger-?" I began, then hesitated, remembering the first time we'd met. "Wait, didn't you work for someone named Sterling?"
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Roger Sterling Jr. Could just be a coincidence, some random book the shelf decided to throw at him, but an adman from New York? There's a chance this is more than just some book.
I arch a brow. "Friend of yours?"
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Then, a little more seriously, I ask, "This the first thing you ever found from your future?"
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"It's the first thing. I guess I just don't know what to really make of it."
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She needed to grab a reference text from the bookshelf before she really got started if it'd give her one, and she bounced into the rec room, passing the slightly irritated-looking guy (Peter Something, maybe?) and greeting him with her usual cheerful "Hi."
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"- Hi." Based on inflection, it was almost a question.
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He had that confused face, and the book on his lap might be the culprit. Or he might just be confused in general. He definitely wasn't new-arrival confused, though. That was a different confused face.
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"You want one of these?" he offered, waving a handful of back issues of Daily Star, OK! and Top Gear: Turbo Challenge.
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"They do races and challenges and just do ridiculously awesome things with cars. It's brilliant. The magazine though, it's more for kids," he admitted, sliding a copy over. It still looked cool, with two sharp looking speedsters on the cover and bold print heralding some massive upgrades. "Trading cards and everything. But still cool if you like cars and aren't too picky."
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