Mr. Manoff joined Colliers International in 1987 when it was still operating as Williams Real Estate.

If Leon Manoff were to sketch his nine-month search for office space on behalf of ASME, the 131-year-old association of mechanical engineers, it would look like a swirl of concentric circles, with each spiral extending farther from the organization’s space at 3 Park Avenue.

Over the course of his search, in fact, the Colliers International tenant agent toured floorplates 20 blocks north and more than three miles south, all across Lower Manhattan. In total, Mr. Manoff and his clients considered more than 30 buildings over the span of roughly 10 tours.

But as is so often the case, the building that ASME executives liked most of all was hiding in their own backyard, at 2 Park Avenue, directly out the window.

“Two Park was one of the first properties we inspected—because it was literally across the street,” said Mr. Manoff, a vice chairman at Colliers International who has worked at the company since 1987, when it was still Williams Real Estate. “By the time they made their decision, I told them they knew as much about the industry as a lot of the brokers.”

That deal, which culminated this June with a 100,000-square-foot lease, is not only a testament to the agent’s hard work and dedication but a recurring theme in his life. Like those outwardly spiraling circles, the Mexico City-born New Yorker has traveled on a dizzying and inspiring path to Mexico and back that has included kidnapping, taxicab confessions and a smattering of luck.

Throughout his 35-year career in real estate and a traumatic childhood that preceded it, Mr. Manoff has brokered more than two million square feet of deals, including multiple transactions for the likes of book publishing group Macmillan, insurance company Aetna, and Newsweek and Reader’s Digest. All along the way, his firm named him as its “Top Producer” in 2007—one year before Real Estate New York included him in its own honor roll of brokers.

“I do get pleasure out of doing all the deals, but I get more pleasure out of going to the bank with the check,” Mr. Manoff said. “Even today, that’s where I get the most satisfaction. My ego is fed by the size of my bank account. It’s nice to have 15 minutes of fame, but having grown up the way I did, it’s all about the account and the security.”

Among his most recent transactions, Mr. Manoff and his colleagues, Andrew Roos and Michael Cohen, arranged the 85,460-square-foot lease at 685 Third Avenue for the accounting firm Marks Paneth & Shron. Inked last month, the transaction marked the first long-term lease since the 33-story property was acquired by pension fund TIAA-CREF.

For Mr. Manoff, the 16-year lease was a product of a one-year search that will shift the firm’s accountants from its current home at 622 Third Avenue while maintaining its close proximity to transit hubs such as Grand Central.

“Geographically, they were looking for a building that would allow them their close proximity to transportation, and Grand Central is a close destination,” he said. “It fell right in the sweet spot.”

While his spate of recent transactions is certainly nothing to ignore, it’s his relationship with the Flatiron Building that may be most impressive. Indeed, six years ago, Mr. Manoff finalized a deal for Macmillan Publishing for the entirety of the iconic asset’s 178,000 square feet. Heralded for its ambitious size, the transaction remains a bright spot in the broker’s significant career.

“It’s safe to say that the building is one of the most widely photographed buildings in the country, and perhaps the world,” said Mr. Manoff, himself an owner of one such likeness, which he hangs in his Madison Avenue office.

“But as an office structure,” he added, “people have questioned whether that use is the highest and best use for that particular building, and I think it is.”

One of three siblings born in Mexico City, Mr. Manoff found himself in the United States at the age of 7 after his parents’ traumatic divorce led to what he described as an actual abduction.

“My parents divorced and my mother kidnapped me from Mexico,” recalled Mr. Manoff, 58, who relocated to Rego Park, Queens. “Today, you would find my picture on a milk carton for that.”

While barely surviving on food stamps in Queens, the young man struggled to learn English—even while his mother exchanged vows with the man whose surname he would eventually inherit.

But amid a series of sicknesses in his family—afflicting first his stepfather, who, after a mental illness, was institutionalized, and then his sister, who suffered from anorexia—Mr. Manoff flew to Mexico to reunite with his father and brother, whom he hadn’t seen in nearly a decade.

“We lived on welfare for a while and it was tough going,” he said of his youth in Queens. “But we really persevered.”

His time in Mexico, however, lasted two years at best. Back in New York, he juggled a handful of jobs, including as a window washer and an ice cream scooper at Baskin-Robbins. But it was while driving a taxi that he received a job lead that would transform his life.

His passenger, he learned one evening, was a broker at Sutton & Towne. And during a friendly chat, the real estate agent handed Mr. Manoff a telephone number for Bob Tunis, who wound up giving the taxi driver a shot at the real estate company’s Great Neck outpost.

It was while working at the firm that Mr. Manoff learned the fundamentals. Indeed, even while maintaining his job as a taxi driver, the 23-year-old agent kept his head down, canvassing local businesses like his life depended on it.

“I took to the prospects of the money,” said Mr. Manoff, who now works a few doors from Mr. Tunis, another vice chairman at Colliers. “I followed the money and, never having had it, I wanted it badly. It taught me that my only limitations were the ones I imposed upon myself.”

jsederstrom@observer.com

Update 2: Via WNYC, the suspect in question is now in police custody after being led away in handcuffs by the police. WNYC also reported:

A person barricaded himself inside an apartment near the Flatiron building after contractors working on windows at the location called police because they were being "menaced" by a tenant who may have a gun, police said.

The Argo Tea Cafe, which is located at 949 Broadway, between 22nd and 23rd Street had to evacuate their customers for about 30 minutes, a spokesperson for the company noted, prompting erroneous reports on Twitter that the situation was taking place there. They are now back open for business.

"Lots of police outside the Flatiron! We've been warned to stay away from windows - possible gunfire. Cue everyone running to windows to look"

"Police activity around the Flatiron. Warnings to stay away from the windows; risk of gunfire yet?"

"I DON'T EVEN KNOW!! I didn't even get John's "stay away from windows" memo! Are they shooting AT theflatiron??"

Such an endeavor, upon which a young David McCullough would have lavished at least 700 pages, is well nigh impossible in this quick, slim volume, and that's for the best, as it's unclear that the Flatiron is really up to the task of carrying so broad a load on its narrow shoulders. There are plenty of classic urban-historian touches—the thick descriptions of the bold new technology used to erect the mighty structure, the gritty tableaus of tenement life juxtaposed with the formal photos of wealthy, mustachioed men in top hats—but in place of a grand narrative building to an inevitable climax, The Flatiron offers the loosely connected stories of scores of individuals and events with its triangular protagonist at their swirling center. Think of it as Alejandro González Iñárritu does Beaux-Arts.

Ms. Alexiou opens with a bit of personal history: Her grandfather, a "quintessential New York story, the immigrant who came from nothing and made good," joined Harry Helmsley in purchasing the Flatiron in 1946, and the building remained in her family for 50 years. To her, she writes, "this building embodies the very essence of our city," and while the Flatiron may not be the obvious embodiment of the city for most New Yorkers, her passion drives a rich quest for the stories of other men who saw the building as a peak upon which to plant their flag.

Most notable of these is the Flatiron's builder, Harry St. Francis Black, whose biographical details occupy, in fits, starts and second glances, somewhere between one-third and one-half of the book. A Horatio Alger story in his own right (as a delicious aside, Ms. Alexiou notes that Horatio Alger's stories themselves were published out of the Flatiron), Black was a prototypical property-hungry developer, self-made man and lover of the deal who Ms. Alexiou compares to Helmsley and to Donald Trump (as well as to her own family patriarch). The Flatiron was built to house Black's "skyscraper trust," United States Realty and Construction, and he built his company alongside it, acquiring the contracts for Macy's, Pennsylvania Station and the Plaza Hotel, among others. It is in comparing Black and his headquarters that Ms. Alexiou's proposed metaphor works best: Both man and skyscraper were bold, controversial, scorned by establishment thinking and interesting to nearly everyone who crossed their paths.

The remainder of The Flatiron is a series of snapshots, a scrapbook of the individuals, inventions and ideas whose paths crossed at 23rd Street, Fifth Avenue and Broadway. We encounter silent-movie makers, jazz stars, restaurateurs, publishers, cubist painters and Tammany politicians, whose appearances are not so much woven into a single story as left to branch out from their terra-cotta trunk. This approach offers innumerable fascinating tidbits about the building and the era—the stories of near-riots over pay-to-sit chairs in Madison Square Park and water shooting from every floor of the Flatiron as its standpipe was tested are particularly fun—all of which contribute to a free-flowing tableau, one in which, Ms. Alexiou writes, "change was the essence of New York."

The size of the ensemble cast grows unwieldy at times, particularly as we delve deeply and distractingly into the minutia of Harry Black's personal life, and Ms. Alexiou's occasional speculation as to characters' emotions or actions feels forced and lacks the in-the-moment oomph that such creative license should evoke if used in writing history. The snapshot approach is necessarily hit-or-miss, leaving some tales under-told or swinging unconnected in the breeze.

In the end, however, it suits this book, and this landmark, which is, as it ever was, a strange creation, "different from every angle," as Alexiou reminds us, and suggesting comparisons to everything from an ocean liner to a slice of cake (or even a household appliance). While this may not be the iconic, triumphant book about the triumphant icon that she set out to write, it is a suitable companion for a New York summer, a reminder of the myriad stories and strange bedfellows that spin their way through the streets, bumping up against one another and striving for attention and success, often at any price.

Though she ends on a note of permanence, as the landmarked and restored Flatiron is here to stay, Ms. Alexiou's book is ultimately about the never-ending change that rushes by in the city, and, in evoking that, she succeeds.

Nick Juravich holds degrees in history from the universities of Chicago and Oxford, and blogs about neighborhood change in New York at I Love Franklin Ave.

PREVIOUSLY > How Communism Shaped New York—Literally

Sorgente's first residential project-34 Greene Street-went on the market in January. How are sales going so far?

Ms. Mainetti: Sales are going really well. The last couple of months we've been having a lot of showings, and the traffic has definitely increased. We closed on a unit, and we have one under contract, and another one we're negotiating as we speak.

Have potential buyers shown interest in the $13.75 million penthouse?

We've had many showings, and there are a couple of people who are interested at the moment.

You've said that Europeans have shown interest in the building. Describe the potential penthouse occupant currently looking at 34 Greene Street.

Right now we have one European-a German-who is interested. The other is American.

Did you anticipate that there would be so many Europeans interested in the building?

Yes, because of where the euro was. Plus, Europeans love Soho and cast-iron buildings and lofts. If you go to Europe now, the new ground-up development, the layout of the space is mainly lofts, and the lofts originated here in the '50s, when the industrial part of New York moved out into the outer boroughs.

Are you seeing a shift, with more Americans showing interest in 34 Greene Street?

Yes, but really it's how the euro moves, or the dollar. That has a big effect.

You appear to be very hands-on. At this point, how do you stay busy at 34 Greene?

It being finished, there's just little things that I see, and it's probably only things I see. I'm just trying to better things constantly-I guess, just making sure that, after the parties, after the showings, that things are still perfect.

In the past, the Sorgente Group has primarily focused on commercial properties. Is this the beginning of a move toward pursuing more residential projects?

We primarily develop and manage real estate funds, which we invest into commercial real estate. This project has been more of a pilot operation. It's residential, which is something we don't usually do. It will serve as a parallel operation to see where the market is going to be. We actually just closed on a project down in Tribeca-three buildings on White Street. At the moment, it's a commercial building, and the building is fully occupied. The idea there, in the future, would be, depending on how Greene Street goes, to do a historic green restoration.

The Sorgente Group recently acquired the Flatiron Building. What plans are in store?

The idea would be to possibly do a hotel conversion. As of now, McMillan rents the whole building, and the lease will expire in 2018, so there's nothing really to talk about at the moment.

Is there still work to be done?

The facade was actually just restored. It was a two-year restoration, and they really did a pretty good job. At the moment, there's no more work to be done.

And while we're on the subject of acquisitions, what's the latest on the rumors of the Sorgente Group looking to acquire the Woolworth Building?

There's no latest. ... I don't really want to talk about it.

Are there other acquisitions on the horizon for the Sorgente Group this year?

We're always looking for a project like [34 Greene] and trophy buildings as well. They always have to be historic. That's our strategy. We believe these kinds of buildings that have architectural value and historical value do better, especially in periods such as this. So we're always looking. There are probably three buildings that I'm looking at very closely, so the answer is yes.

Your great-grandfather Luigi Binda also has roots in America. Care to share?

He moved with his family in the early '20s. He used to live in a small town outside of Milano, in the north of Italy. He established a company here, in New York City, that, later on, developed load-bearing frames for buildings as well as skyscrapers. He unfortunately passed away when he was really young, and that's when my family came back to Italy.

How often does your father, Valter Mainetti, return to New York to oversee work?

I'm the only one, really, that's present at all times in New York-ever since this project, really.

Does your father offer you advice?

He does, but he lets me be. At the beginning, he was a little bit fearful. He knows this business very well-he was a ground-up developer for many years-and when he decided to bring this project on the table, he was a little bit nervous, I guess, having his little daughter deal with construction and being in this extremely masculine environment far away from home.

What kind of advice has he given you?

Once you begin a project, if you start seeing problems-and you're going to find many-don't give up. As long as you find a way to solve these problems, you'll do just fine.

Is there pressure to hold your own as a young woman in the development industry?

Absolutely. It's an extremely masculine environment, but it's absolutely feasible. It's just a little bit harder. In fact, I think there should be more women. I was saying recently that the thing women are naturally born with is common sense, and I think you need a lot of common sense in a job like this.

jsederstrom@observer.com

The buyer is listed as Michelangelo Flatiron Building Investment LLC, with an address at 805 Third Avenue. The LLC is 100 percent owned by the Michelangelo Fondo, which, in turn, is 100 percent owned by the Sorgente Group, headed in the United States by Veronica Mainetti. Sorgente already holds a controlling interest in the architectural jewel at the intersection of Fifth Avenue and Broadway.

(Updated!)

In a Monday afternoon telephone call, Mr. Gural told The Observer that despite the sale, he and his partners still retain a more than 30 percent stake in the building.

"About three years we sold [Sorgente] a small piece," Mr. Gural said. "This is the third [stake we've sold]. That will be it. We’re not going to sell anymore."

drubinstein@observer.com

Recent Top Chef champ Hosea Rosenberg showed off his chops, whipping up small plates of shrimp and coconut rice, at a cooking demonstration outside the Flatiron Building on Friday afternoon, March 27.

No sign of Leah Cohen, Mr. Rosenberg’s rumored love interest on the popular Bravo reality TV series. (Perhaps Centro Vinoteca is running a killer lunch special or something.)

After the demo, the chrome-domed 35-year-old top toque from Taos, N.M., and his colleague, prior Top Chef contestant Nikki Cascone, co-owner of the Soho restaurant 24 Prince, signed autographs and hawked promotional items for the show, including the curiously phrased (and apparently top-selling) t-shirt: “I HAVE A CULINARY BONER.”

I asked Mr. Rosenberg, “Do you?”

“Always,” he told the Daily Transom, “any time I do something like this.”

“What is that exactly?” I inquired of the cheeky term.

 “What gives me a culinary boner? Or what is a culinary boner?” replied Mr. Rosenberg, who was also sporting a pair of leopard-print shades.

Either!

“It’s just being really excited about your work,” he explained. “It’s about being passionate about what you do. I think there’s a lot of people in different lines of work who don’t get boners.”

“We get twisted excited over things,” Ms. Cascone chimed in. “Like when the seasons change and we see great produce in the market. We get boners over that.”

More on this soon.