Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Graham
I win the book of the year award, but it feels hollow. Mara ditched me halfway through the night, and now she won’t respond.
And she’s taken Cupid.
I’ve never felt so lonely and full of despair in my miserable life. I miss Mara, but I can’t live without Cupid. He’s my soul dog.
I want them both back.
I’m so desperate, I’ve taken it to the public.
It’s a big night at the local bookstore. I’ve been invited to share a snippet from my new novel. My words will be shared via livestream to all the internet, and I can only hope the person who matters most is watching.
Please, let Mara be watching.
For weeks, I’ve been trying to reach her. Calls left unanswered. Messages left unread. Mara disappeared from my life as swiftly as she entered it, leaving me with a whiplash that won’t heal.
I’m about to lay myself bare, read words like I’ve never written, all dedicated to her. The audience of fans, peers, and critics don’t matter.
Only one person does.
Here I stand, at the podium, under bright lights that make me squint. A dull weight presses down on my chest. It’s my last chance to make things right, even though I’m not sure how they went wrong.
Murmurs from the audience fade into a hush as I clear my throat and begin to speak. I clutch the podium as if it’s the only thing keeping me upright and share a few short paragraphs of my work in progress.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever written before. It’s real and raw. It’s romance and passion.
My books usually have plenty of suspense, thrill, and intrigue, but this one is different. This one is a love story.
Our love story.
I glance down at the pages in front of me, agonizing over every word. Sleeplessness has led me to burn the nights away at my laptop. Writing has always been my therapy, but this is different.
This is life or death.
The audience is silent as my last words ring out across the room. A few reach for tissues to dab their eyes, and others sniffle quietly. I’ve touched them with this story inspired by my Guiding Light.
I can only hope Mara’s watching and that she’s touched too.
I swallow hard, then finish with my dedication. My voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it. I’m raw and aching, and that’s clear with every word.
“This is for the special woman and dog in my life. I always believed love wasn’t meant for me. It had passed me by. I’ve written dozens of thrillers, but I’ve never written about love.”
A ripple of whispers moves through the crowd. They are all trying to guess who this woman is. They probably know the dog is Cupid. He has half a million followers on social media.
I don’t have to name Mara. She knows who she is.
“She taught me that love isn’t something hiding in the pages of a book. It’s messy. It’s vulnerable. It’s terrifying.” I pause to clear my throat, thick with emotion. “But it’s also worth fighting for.”
The silence stretches, and then someone claps. Before long the entire room erupts in applause. I’ve gotten to them.
But have I gotten to the one who really matters? Was Mara watching?
I can’t take time to ponder before I’m bombarded by the audience. Fans have brought books to sign, the owner of the store wants to discuss another signing, and Vanessa is pushing for me to wrap things up.
She’s involved herself more in my life than ever. She monitors my daily word count, encouraging me to burn the candle at both ends and churn out another best seller.
“Time is money,” she says on repeat.
Her urgings are quite unnecessary. I’ve never written this fast in my life. Usually, I write one or two books in a year, but this one will be finished in a month.
I don’t sleep. I don’t eat. I barely take a shower, and shaving hasn’t happened in too many days to count.
My hair is a mess, my house is a disaster, and my brain is fried.
I miss her.
Then, I see a familiar face. My throat closes as I fight back emotion. She’s not the woman I want to see, but she’s close. So close.
I scramble up from the signing table so fast, I nearly knock down the chair.
“Lark,” the word comes out like a desperate plea. I’m a man in need of my muse and it shows.
“You better be for real this time.” She plants her hands on her hips, eyeing me with hot, tear-filled eyes. “No catfishing.”
I cross my heart. “It’s real. No fishing in the vicinity.”
She rolls her eyes, not smiling. “You’re as cheesy as they come. I hope she knows what’s in for her.”
I reach out, grab her hand before she can get away. Vanessa eyes us from across the room, ready to swoop in. No fan gets more than sixty seconds. That’s the rule.
“Did she see it?” Hope claws at my chest, fills me with purpose.
“She’s not much for social media.” Lark tilts her head at me, eyes narrowed. “I wonder why?”
I wince. “You saw what they were saying?”
Lark glowers at me. “We saw it. What are you gonna do about it?”
Nothing . I’d done nothing to stop the comments online. I’d ignored them as Vanessa had advised.
“Words are easy, G. Devlin.” Lark takes a step back. “ Actions ? Those are harder.”
My jaw tightens. I know about actions. I write them every day. But do I actually perform?
“She let you in,” Lark continues. “She doesn’t do that. And you hurt her. You didn’t defend her.”
Vanessa swoops in, placing a hand on Lark’s sleeve to urge her on. “Thank you for being a fan. Would you like a photo with the author?”
“No photo.”
Vanessa smiles icily, as if the expression is foreign to her body. “Let’s move along then.”
“No arguments here.” Lark gives me a frosty smile over her shoulder as she tosses her hair and walks away.
I watch her for a long moment, my heart freezing in my chest. Then, something breaks through. Something shatters me. This is it. My last chance.
“Attention everyone,” my voice booms over the buzz of conversation. “I have something to say.”
Hushed whispers die away, and every head turns in my direction. It’s like the Sahara in my mouth. I grab my glass of water and gulp the remains down in three long swallows.
Everyone stares as I take a deep breath and set the glass down on the table.
Although I’ve stripped myself down to the bone in a dozen different novels, leaving my words on the page for all to see, I’ve never felt so naked. The urge to cover myself is strong, but I suppress it.
My eyes skitter over the crowd, all of them turned toward me expectantly. I let my gaze settle on each face. Were some of the haters in attendance right now?
“I haven’t named the woman this novel was inspired by.” I meet Lark’s gaze, and she nods with approval. “I haven’t stood up for her.”
Vanessa pushes her way through the crowd until she stands next to me at the table. “That’s it for tonight, everyone. Thanks for coming.”
“Let him finish,” someone says.
A man’s voice sounds, “Who’s the special lady?”
“Yeah?” Lark’s voice calls out. “What’s her name?”
I choke on a bitter laugh. “I was an idiot for not doing this sooner.”
Vanessa clutches my arm, her fingers biting into my flesh. “Leave this alone,” she hisses.
I glance down at her, tempted to flick her off like a flea. “I can’t leave it alone.” I won’t.
Her eyes narrow to dark slits. “I can’t represent you if you don’t listen to me.”
A thrill runs through me as I feel empowered by my right to make my own decisions. “Maybe you shouldn’t represent me.”
The color drains from her face. I’m her biggest client, and we both know it.
“I choose who I date.” I shake her hand away. “Mara Lang is my girlfriend. And for everyone here who had the audacity to think they could disrespect a woman like that, you should be ashamed.”
A collective gasp goes up through the crowd. Vanessa shoves me hard enough to knock me off balance.
I right myself and face the shocked crowd again. Some of them have their phones out, recording me.
“If you don’t want to buy my books because of who I date, that’s your right. There are plenty of books to read.”
“Graham!” Two blotches of color appear on Vanessa’s cheeks.
I look away from her and give the camera phones my best charming smile. “Mara Lang, I hope you’re watching. Can someone tag her?”
“I got you, G!” Lark shouts.
I focus on Lark’s phone, pouring my heart into my words. “ As the World Turns , let’s spend the rest of the Days of Our Lives together. We only have One Life to Live , let’s find our Passions together.”
Lark starts clapping, cheering me on, even though she probably doesn’t get our inside soap opera title joke.
The sound of clapping fills the room. It’s so loud, I have to lean close to make sure Vanessa hears me say the words that should have been said months ago.
“Vanessa Blake, you’re fired.”