Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Everyone looks pretty happy.
Of course, every convention has some disappointment. But all in all, it’s not a bad gig, ya know?
It’s really not.
Sometimes it gets to me that I have to pretend to be something I’m not, but honestly, I’m pretty much the luckiest Ro-Bro on the planet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“We had sex again,” I whisper.
“What?” Britney whispers back as we approach the signing table.
“After we went back up to his room, we had sex again.”
“Giiiiiiiiiiiiiiirl,” Britney draws out.
“I know.”
“Where is he now?”
“I’m not sure. Around. He had to come down to get stuff ready for today.”
“And you didn’t go to the author breakfast?”
“No, I was planning on it, but Steve ordered me a whole buffet again before he headed down to get everything together.”
“Oh, my God.”
“I know. And that was, of course, after we went back up to his suite and had sex… again.”
I giggle. She giggles. We slap at each other. It’s a regular teen rom-com. I think I love it.
“Hey,” a voice calls out. I turn to see Audrey Saint walking toward us.
“Hey, Audrey!” I call back.
She intercepts us, looking tired. “Missed you at breakfast.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“No worries. You’ve just made quite a splash.”
“I… have?”
“Well, yes. I mean, really, your old-lady friend—”
“Sheila. She’s my landlady.”
“Ah. Well, Sheila made quite a splash anyway. Oh, Britney, James is going to send you that spreadsheet.”
“Which one?” she asks.
“The one he told you about? That he uses to keep Saint Industries running? I have a feeling after this convention, you’re going to need it.”
“You think so?” I ask.
“Yeah. Look, you gave out some books, you brought a super-popular elderly woman to teach people how to Charleston. You’ve been seen publicly canoodling with Tank Watson. It’s all part of the narrative. People are going to read you as much for the intrigue as anything. And when they do, they’ll find out you’re a kick-ass writer and then you’ll be off to the races.”
I blush a little just thinking about it. Not how I expected it to go, but if she’s right…
“You planned your next book yet?” she asks.
“Well, I need to write the next book in my series. And I might have a new idea swirling around.”
“Not ready to talk about it?” Audrey asks. I shake my head ‘no.’ “Good,” she says, “don’t. Don’t give away your ideas for free.”
Something about hearing her say it reminds me that I still don’t know where that lone copy of Filling the Gap has gotten off to. The original one. I don’t love that I don’t know where it is. I need to find it.
“So…?” Audrey says, pulling my attention back.
“Sorry. What?”
“I said how has it been? Your first convention? Has it been all you hoped it would be?”
As we arrive at the table, I see something hanging from it. A ribbon. Getting closer, I see what it says: ‘Best Up-and-Coming Superstar.’
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s a thing SS does. It’s cute. This is the one I got this year.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her ribbon. It says, ‘Most Romantic Romance Couple.’
“That seems about right.” I laugh.
“James… He’s a lunatic, but I do love him.” She pauses, looks at me, and says, “You got the right one. You’re definitely on the right track. But don’t be surprised if you get mine next year.”
“What? Whaddayou mean? Why?”
She arches an eyebrow, winks, and walks off without saying anything further. And as she moves through the authors, shuffling about, getting ready for the doors to open, I see Steve standing on the other side of the room, smiling at me.
I clutch my ribbon. Tightly.
“Authors. Can I bother you to move your tables down a foot? Because Raylen Star’s table is too close to the door. Can we do that, please?”
As soon as Steve calls out, everyone in the place steps up to make more room for Raylen Star’s table, even though she’s not even there. I have two thoughts.
1) Even though she’s a mean person, I hope she’s all right after she got hammered yesterday.
2) Steve Smith is genuinely the nicest guy I’ve ever met. And I hope he gets all the things he wants.
It takes all of two minutes to get Leslie’s table sorted out and then Steve is walking up and down the aisles, saying hello to everyone.
He doesn’t stop by my table. Which should make me nervous. But it doesn’t, because he can’t. There are too many people blocking the way right now.
There is no tape laid out in front of my booth area place because frankly no one would have thought that I’d need it. No need to corral everyone given that nobody really knows who I am. But, today, there’s a… not potpourri… um, constellation? Ooooh. Yes. I like that. A constellation of readers all gathered at my table.
So Steve just motors past, winks at me (which makes my stomach twingly) and mouths I’ll be back as he heads to wherever he’s headed to next.