New York, it seems, had better things to do yesterday than go see Amber Frey – our latest accidental author – sign copies of her new book at Barnes & Noble in Rockefeller Center.

The well-orchestrated signing was supposed to start at 1 p.m. Ms. Frey, the willowy blonde who fell under the spell of Scott Peterson around the time he was plotting to kill his wife, Laci, and their unborn child, was running late.

Life gets very hectic, you know, when you’re hopping from “Dateline” to the “Today” show to “Larry King” to “Oprah.”

It was about 1:10 by the time Ms. Frey, looking tired in tight jeans and a brown suede jacket, and her lawyer, Gloria Allred, perky and all in pink, got out of a black SUV and made their way through a knot of photographers on the 48th Street side of the store.

It was 10 or 12 minutes more before another dozen or so screaming reporters and photographers inside were finished. The first person with a copy of the $25.95 book didn’t walk up to the autograph table until about 1:25.

If that old saying about 15 minutes of fame is true, Ms. Frey, 29, just barely got hers yesterday. By 1:40, about 15 minutes after she started signing, she ran out of buyers. Nervous press agents and bored security guards kept looking outside for Amber’s public, but there were no more takers.

About two dozen people showed up, a dismal turnout by any standard. The line outside for Hillary Clinton almost circled the gigantic block. The line for Amber Frey never got more than a dozen feet long.

Her claim to fame is that she met her murderous Lothario on a blind date in November 2002; they ate dinner, drank wine and gin, sang at a karaoke bar, and fell into bed – all on the same night.

A one-night stand? Oh, no, not for Scott and Amber, a massage therapist who – did we mention? – is a willowy blonde. No, Ms. Frey thought this was true love; the man of her dreams. Of course she, the rest of America, and all the ships at sea would soon find out he was a narcissistic liar who called all his girlfriends “sweetie” so he wouldn’t mix up their names.

Ms. Frey was shocked, shocked, to find out all of this was too good to be true. She quickly learned he was a liar, but decided to overlook it. Then she found out that he was married, that his pregnant wife was missing, and that he was still lying to her.

What’s a girl to do? She called the police and told them Scott was a cad. They had figured that out already, but she agreed to tape conversations with Scott that would ultimately put lover boy on Death Row.

“I kept thinking, ‘I can’t believe this. This isn’t really happening,'” she writes. “I kept thinking, ‘I have to do everything I can to help these police officers. I have to help them find Laci and her baby.'”

She did a good job. The tapes were devastating. The murder case, a tabloid press sensation from the day Laci went missing, went into overdrive with the blue-eyed mistress telling all.

Connie Chung begged for an interview and offered to let her stay in her Manhattan apartment. Diane Sawyer’s producer sent a stuffed frog, emblazoned with the words, “How many frogs must I kiss before I find my prince?”

And the National Enquirer, never to be outdone, published nude pictures from a modeling shoot she’d done a few years earlier.

In the ensuing two years she’s had a second child, testified against Peterson, and, with advice from the press savvy Ms. Allred, cashed in.

Her books are flying off the shelves – everywhere but New York, apparently. Young women who’ve been burned in love identify with her, and men seem to like her. Did we mention she’s a willowy blonde?

By 2 p.m., less than an hour after she arrived, Ms. Frey, her lawyer, and their small entourage slipped out of the side door and climbed back into the black SUV. Only three photographers were still there, and they kept snapping away. “Over here, Amber,” one yelled, and she reflexively looked in his direction.

The gentle wind carried her long hair back a bit, but no smile creased her face. She looked tired, vulnerable, and unhappy.

As the SUV pulled away, you wondered where she was going, not only right then, but in life. She was foolish in love, then angry and vengeful. But she did the right thing and you hoped it would all come out okay in the end.