Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
* * *
Conner.
* * *
Lucky rabbit’s foot.
* * *
Charlie.
* * *
Love.
* * *
Lucky.
* * *
Destiny.
* * *
Love.
* * *
Love.
* * *
Love.
* * *
Oh my God!
* * *
Charlie gave it to me.
* * *
Charlie is in love with me.
* * *
Something inside my brain finally clicks in sync with my heart.
I’m in love with Charlie.
* * *
My Everything.
* * *
He’s my everything, too.
* * *
I’m in love with Charlie!
* * *
Glancing at the time, I grab my phone ready to call Charlie, but I see a text message from Rachel instead: Charlie has a book signing at seven. Barnes and Noble, 82nd and Broadway. She knows. She knows that, deep down, I’m in love with Charlie.
I run through the apartment, slipping on my wellies, coat, scarf, and hat, grabbing my keys, my wallet, and the book, and then run out the door to hail a cab.
When I get inside, I give the driver the address. Glancing at my watch, I see the signing has already begun. “Hurry, please.”
When the cab pulls up to the curb outside the bookstore, I’m stunned in place. Before me is a six-by-six-foot poster of Charlie’s face filling one entire window. God, what a glorious face it is, too. Guess he’s not my secret anymore. My heart races, and I jump into action to get to that man, my man, as soon as possible.
I pay the cab driver and jump out only to be confronted with a line out the door. As I scan over the crowd, I notice it’s all women in line. Oh, except for three guys toward the end—one very tall, one very effeminate, and the other very metrosexual. Judging by this crowd, it makes me question if they are here to support Charlie’s book or to try to score a date with the author.
Walking toward the front of the line, I reach for the door. A very terse woman with small glasses stops me.
“If you’re here for the signing, the book is sold out, and the line has closed.”
“I’m friends with the author,” I say, giving her a smile and trying to win her over with kindness.
“Mm-hmm, and I’m sure all these people who showed up on time for the signing can claim the same. I’m sorry, but the line has closed. Mr. Adams has been here over an hour, and we don’t want him to have to sleep here.”
I read the tag on her shirt. “Nancy.” I smile, trying to stay calm. With my most professional, direct tone, I say, “It’s imperative that I speak with Charlie.”
“I’m sure it is, but it won’t be here tonight. Please step away from the line, or I’ll call security.”
I look over her shoulder and see him through the glass. He’s surrounded by people with clipboards and books, as well as a giggling woman who keeps flipping her hair behind her shoulder. She’s a flirter. Her body language says it all. He gives her his attention, but his smile is one of politeness only.
I turn back to Nancy and hold the book up. “I’ve already got a copy. I just want him to sign it for me.”
A scowl covers her face. “Well, in that case,” she says with a tight smile. I think she’s going to let me in. That is until her tone drops and her beady eyes stare me down. “This line is for customers only.” She turns her back to me, ending the discussion.
Stubbornness flames inside my chest. I walk away from the main entrance and around the corner, all super spy and ninja-like, hoping the gatekeeper doesn’t spot me. Taking off into a sprint to the side entrance, I yank on the handle, but it just jolts. Dammit! It’s locked.
Defeated, I walk across the street, letting my imagination get the best of me. I’m sure he’s being flattered and offered a phone number. Jealousy flares, and I back away from the door, a plan forming. I buy myself a coffee and sit at a table near the window to watch as the line begins to dwindle. When only five people remain, I stand and make my move. I watch him through the bookstore window as I cross the street again. I notice him looking around a few times, and although he always smiles at the person standing in front of him, I see he’s disappointed. I just hope he’s reacting that way because I’m not there.
Hope can be a dangerous emotion and can hurt me as much as help me. But without action, hope has no chance, so I’m going for it. I’m getting my everything.
I cross the street and head toward the side entrance that was locked earlier. It’s a risk because he might leave through the front, but I’m willing to take it. I’ve already made several mistakes today that have cost me.