Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 145123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
And if I feel this way for much longer, I’m not going to be able to hide it behind my pants and the seat belt.
“Is that the book?” Brooke asks suddenly, her voice quiet and noticeably devoid of sleepiness as she stares at my bag on the floor between us with the manuscript on top.
The book. That fucking book. It’s the last thing I’d like to think about right now.
Funnily enough, it’s the whole reason you’re here…
Shit. I clear my throat and attempt to morph myself into the professional editor I should be.
“Y-yes.” I stumble over my tongue a little. “I was reading a bit this morning before getting on the road. Why?”
She shakes her head back and forth for no less than ten seconds before finally finding some words. “I just…” She shakes her head again, swallows, and then puts together a sentence. “I’ve just never seen it all printed and in person like that.” I don’t know if that’s the original sentence she intended; somehow it doesn’t feel like it. But I can’t imagine what else she’d be thinking or feeling, and it’s not my job to make assumptions and assertions about other people’s feelings.
“You can pick it up and hold it if you want,” I tease, nodding toward it while I focus on the road. “I’ve read it five or six times at this point, though, and made a ton of small notes, so the pages might be a little furled.”
“Five or six times?” Brooke asks, shocked.
“I know, it’s pretty shameful.” I flash a playful wink. “But I have to sleep sometimes. If not, I’d have read it more.”
“No, I didn’t… I meant…” Brooke staggers to explain until taking a good hard look at my face and recognizing my taunt. “Oh. You’re joking.”
“Sort of.” I laugh. “Frankly, I probably would have read it more if I didn’t have to sleep.”
Brooke shakes her head. “You’re crazy. You’re a crazy, editing, squirrel-fighting, motor-home-driving speed-reader, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” She pauses and gestures out the window in front of us as we approach the main square of Hometown, and she chuckles. “Of course, I’d very clearly be able to do nothing without you, so I’m not going to change anything.”
“Wow,” I remark at the idyllic street-lining lights with springtime bows and floral greenery wrapped around them with care. A mighty, historic bank sits on the right and a fire station on the left as we approach a large court building at the very center of town. “So, this is where you grew up?”
“Outside of town. But yes. I drove through this square every day on the way to kindergarten through twelfth grade.”
“Do you miss it?”
Brooke shrugs, her eyes scanning everything in sight with a great deal of muscle memory. “Parts, yes. I did love the simplicity. But I couldn’t have stayed here, not doing what I was doing and seeing who I was seeing every day. I was dead inside. Now, I don’t have any friends to speak of—other than Benji—” she corrects as he lets out a little bark, “but I’m beaming bright on the inside. Too bright most days, if I’m honest. The voices are loud.”
Shaking my head with a smile, I’m surprised when Brooke yelps and jumps up from her seat in a mad dash and runs toward the back.
“Brooke?” I yell, steering the bus into its designated parking space on the square. “Are you okay?”
“Yep. Just saw my first-grade teacher on the square, and I’d rather he not see me in my pajamas!”
Her response is so endearing and a perfect Hallmark ending to my introduction to her town.
Tonight, though, I’ll get to see Brooke in real action with the people who know her best.
And you can’t fucking wait.
Netflix is really on top of their event game. The Hometown Recreation Hall is decked out in movie-style posters showcasing The Shadow Brothers, along with two tables full of pens and bookmarks and other various forms of swag for Brooke’s fans to take as souvenirs.
The instant we walked inside, a handler by the name of Jan greeted us with a big smile. Jan is here to be at Brooke’s beck and call. “Anything you need at all,” she told her when we first arrived. “Just let me know.”
And the Hometown fans have not disappointed. They’ve shown up in droves, to the point that even two Hometown police officers keep watch on the whole event from their spots at the front doors.
Ninety minutes into this event, and everything is going as perfectly as it can possibly go. And seeing Brooke with her hair and makeup done as she meets and greets fans across a narrow six-foot table, chatting and laughing with them, is a surreal experience.
I find it incredibly hard to describe how someone can be their genuine self without putting on a show, but be doing it more…at the same time.