Writing a Wrong (7 page)

As it turned out, the appearance was easier than I expected. The hosts were extremely nice and very supportive. Although, I was so nervous I couldn't remember a word I had said. I guess I would find out if I truly embarrassed myself. Remi, Jillian, Greg, and Olivia all assured me I was being ridiculous. Of course, they had to say that.

Chapter 8

My other interviews that week went just as well. I felt I moved from a toddler vocabulary to a speech any adolescent might understand.

"I sound like I have the intelligence of a gnat," I joked, speaking to Alec on the phone.

"No way, babe. You did great on Good Morning America. Everyone here is still buzzing about it. Lily watched it on the DVR and she couldn't believe someone she knew was on TV. I talked to Olivia and she said you were brilliant in your other interviews too. As a matter of fact, she said the last person was openly flirting with you."

"But the last interview was with a woman," I replied, confused.

"I know. If you want to pursue it, I'm all in. Just sayin'."

"You're such a pervert," I said, laughing. "I can't believe you gave me permission to cheat."

"Not cheating, just dabbling. Like the old Katy Perry song."

"That song is probably the only reason you like Katy Perry. Are you a Taylor Swift fan too?" I teased.

"I don't remember her having a song about kissing a girl. Besides, she whines too much for me. Katy Perry is always so upbeat and she wears cute outfits."

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "And there you have it. Tell you what. I'll wear cupcakes on my boobs like she does if you want."

"Promises, promises. You're killing me, babe. This week has been too long without you."

"Ditto," I answered, even though it was only half true. I missed him terribly, but the past week had zipped by in a blur of activity. I'd barely had time to catch my breath. Up until yesterday I couldn't have told you what day it was until Olivia reminded me.

"It's nice of you to lie for my benefit. I know you've been busy."

He knew me too well. "That doesn't mean I don't miss you like crazy."

"I know, babe. I'm glad it's going well."

"I love you."

"I love too, sweet stuff."

Olivia waved to get my attention. She was standing with a group of people on the other side of the room.

"I better go. I'll text you later," I said regretfully. Busy was good, but I'd only spoken to Alec a handful of times during the past week and I was feeling the effects.

He sighed but didn't complain. We said our goodbyes and hung up. I stowed my phone away so I wouldn't spend my time staring at his number in my contacts list. Olivia waved at me again. I took one last glance at my phone sitting sadly at the bottom of my bag. I'd make it up to Alec later.

Pasting a smile on my face, I made my way over to the group Olivia and Greg were having a conversation with. They turned out to be studio executives, who, much to my surprise, were all fans of Wicked Lovely. Greg and Olivia had taken the initiative and scheduled a lunch with them after checking with Jillian.

"That was pretty cool," I yawned to Olivia several hours later when we were finally in our hotel room.

She nodded, massaging the back of her neck. "It really was. Did you see how excited they seemed to be eating lunch with you? I'm sure they've met plenty of famous people, but to them you were the shit. I mean, your books are good and all, but you're no Theo James."

I would have offered an appropriate comeback, but I had to agree with her. Besides, I was too tired to put that much effort into it. "Don't be an asswipe." I crawled onto the bed and dragged a pillow to my chest. My eyes felt heavy and I would do anything to be able to close them, even for a few minutes."What time is the signing?" I asked, hoping she'd tell me I had the days mixed up.

She looked at the clock on the nightstand table. "At six."

Too tired to flip over to check the time, I dragged my cell phone out of my pocket. It was already a quarter past four and the signing was at a small indie bookstore in SoHo, which meant I should be getting ready.

"Can you pretend to be me?" I joked, yawning again.

"I don't have the boobs to pull it off. Just think though, after this you'll have a little down time," she said, looking over my agenda on her phone. "The only thing you have tomorrow is dinner with Remi, Jillian, and the three other authors who will be on the Love Bus. We do have a little maintenance work to do in the morning. Just last-minute things to make sure you're ready for release day."

I sat up, grinning. I wasn't sure how the publisher's PR team would feel about Olivia's nickname for the tour bus, but it made me smile every time she said it. The Love Bug was Tony's favorite movie when he was younger, and I'd made the mistake of divulging that information to Olivia in a moment of weakness. Tony was going to kill me when he found out I had blabbed. It wasn't even a question of if, but when he found out. Olivia had already changed his contact info in my phone to Herbie after I mentioned that Tony would only answer to that name when he was seven.

"Should we send Herbie a picture of you and me with the Love Bus before you leave on Saturday?" she asked on cue, like she could read my thoughts.

"Shut it. Did I mention Tony hates it when we remind him about his Herbie fascination?"

"Even better," she said, gleefully rubbing her hands together.

"I think Satan is missing his significant other back in hell."

"I already told the old bag of flames that absence makes the heart grow fonder. He has his demons to keep him entertained while I'm away."

I shook my head. Olivia was definitely going to hell and would probably drag me with her. Knowing I couldn't procrastinate any longer, I climbed from the bed and headed to the bathroom to get myself together. The signing at the indie bookstore was tiny in comparison to the large shows I'd done during the last six months, and it was also the first time I'd be flying solo. I'd be signing early copies of Wicked Lonely, which would be releasing in two days. My worst fear was that no one would show up and I'd be sitting there staring at Olivia, Greg, and a few employees. That would be beyond embarrassing.

Greg reassured me the place was a small hole in the wall that would look crowded with even five people inside. I was banking on that.

An hour later, Olivia and I met Greg in the lobby. I'd already decided I wouldn't be able to eat anything until after the signing. Depending on how it went, I could be drowning my sorrows in a vat of chocolate afterward.

Traffic on the way to the store was typical New York busy, but I'd come to realize Greg handled it as expertly as a race car driver. He darted and maneuvered around vehicles and obstacles like a professional. It still didn't mean I didn't have to hold on for dear life the entire time. I was just starting to get used to it. Olivia learned early on to keep her distance after my fingers left bruises on her leg the first time she rode with us.

"Hey, look at that," Greg said, interrupting Olivia and me as we were reviewing my schedule for the following week. He drove slowly past the small store where a sizable line had formed outside. It took me a moment to register what I was seeing. If not for the sign hanging over the door shaped like an old clock that read Book Time, I wouldn't have believed we were at the right location. Maybe there was a signing before mine. That could be the only explanation.

Olivia bounced on the seat, thinking the line had something to do with me. I wanted to set her straight, but I caught sight of a group of women in the line clutching copies of my first series.

Greg made a sharp right turn, pulling into a narrow alley behind the building. "The owner told me to park around back," he said, stopping beside an ordinary-looking door that could have belonged to any store, but to me now held a certain sense of magical appeal. A feeling of euphoria bubbled inside me, pulsating with a life of its own. I had already made an appearance on national television and yet, I felt like my life was about to change.

Olivia reached over and gripped my hand. I could tell by the way her eyes were shining that she could feel it too. "Are you ready for this?"

I nodded my head followed by a quick shake instead. I wished Alec was here. He was such a large part of the success I was suddenly having. I missed him acutely at that moment.

Olivia startled me by nudging my arm to slide out of the vehicle. I came into focus, realizing Greg was holding the door open for me. "Piece of cake," he said warmly.

He reached out a hand to help me climb from the vehicle. "Did you pay all those people to wait in line for me?"

"They're the ones who paid—by buying your books. Go give them what they want." He smiled widely, putting my mind at ease. "I've been instructed by Remi to get a lot of pictures. Tonight is your night. Enjoy it."

Olivia nodded in agreement, shouldering my bag with hers. "Let's not keep your readers waiting, Talent."

"Oh my god. Greg called me that too at the airport. Did you guys rehearse that or something?"

Before she could answer, the manager opened the back door of the store as I rounded the vehicle. "Ms. Blake, it's a pleasure to have you here," she said, shaking my hand enthusiastically. "I'm Patricia—owner, manager, and everything in between of Book Time. I can't tell you how excited your readers and I are to have you here today. They've been lined up for hours."

"Hours?" I squawked, not quite believing her words.

"Hours," she repeated. "Even in the cold. They're a hearty bunch. We passed out hot chocolate an hour ago, but we haven't heard a single complaint. They're so excited to meet you." She led us through a tiny stockroom crowded with boxes and shelves of overflow books.

"I have to tell you, I'm excited too," I said, beaming with pleasure as I spotted a cat sitting on a desk in the corner of the room. Another sat by the door leading to the main area of the store. "Oh, I love your shop," I added, bending down to pet the cat for a moment. "I had to leave my baby at home."

"Ah, thank you, my dear. It's been in my family for generations. The first paperbacks sold here cost a dime, if that tells you how long we've been here. We've made some cosmetic changes during the years, but the shelves are all original," she said, opening the stockroom door to reveal a small but perhaps the warmest bookstore I'd ever stepped into. Rich mahogany shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling while shorter shelves and tables divided the floor space into sections. Two leather chairs bookended a small round table in the corner where we were standing. A delicate Tiffany lamp sat on the table, casting a warm glow that provided an intimate feel.

After the crisp, cold air outside, the appeal of curling up in one of those chairs with a good book all day was tantalizing.

"I thought I'd set you up over here," Patricia said, pointing to a narrow wooden table just to the left of the seating area. "I figure that way they can make their purchases first and then funnel back here to you. My staff will then direct them down this row and back out of the store. I think that will work best for crowd control. Originally, I planned Q&A and even had chairs set up, but we quickly dismissed that idea after the line formed. Hopefully we can still get you out of here in two hours.

I nodded, starting to feel overwhelmed. I couldn't quite wrap my brain around the idea that she thought I'd have a steady line for two hours. Was this really my life?

"Nicole, the photographer is here and wants to take some shots of you behind the table," Olivia said, handing me a Starbucks that seemed to have appeared out of thin air. "Patricia," she answered, smiling at the shop owner who was currently stacking copies of Wicked Lonely and Wicked Lovely at the front counter.

I approached the table with a bit of reverence. A copy of Wicked Lovely sat in front of my chair. I studied the cover fondly, running a finger over Alec's face. He and this book were the reason I was standing here. He was going to freak when he saw the pictures.

Following the photographer's instructions, I posed behind the table while he took the shots he wanted. After a few minutes, though, I called a halt to the picture taking. Everyone had already been patient. If the photographer wanted more pictures, we could take more afterward. Patricia and her staff had already catered to me enough. And god knows the readers outside had waited long enough.

Olivia took charge and directed the photographer into the corner so Patricia could begin letting people in. Greg stood beside me, handing over a silver Sharpie, which was my favorite color to sign with.

I could hear excited chatter as soon as the front doors opened. Patricia planned to allow twenty people in at a time to make sure no one felt claustrophobic. I sat toying with the pen Greg had given me, anxious from the sound of approaching voices.

Olivia winked at me as the first two women made their way back to the table, squealing as soon as they caught sight of me. They were both clutching their purchases against their chests and looked close to tears. I almost teared up myself from the way they gushed about how much they loved me. They were acting like I was a celebrity. It was wild. I would call it the most insane moment of my young life.

More women joined the line, eagerly waiting to get their books signed and have pictures taken. Olivia helped keep the line moving by writing each person's name on sticky notes so I wouldn't mess up when I signed their books. Greg remained at the side to take pictures with their phones when asked.

The steady stream continued, and I lost track of how many books I signed. The hours bled away and finally when my hand was beginning to threaten mutiny, the last reader made her way to the table and Patricia finally locked the front door.