Chapter 9 #2
I rolled my eyes. Of course writing wouldn’t be even a quarter as fun if it weren’t for the fans, but most of us did it so we wouldn’t go hungry.
It was gratifying to be able to do what we loved for a living.
Most people couldn’t say that, and I understood how lucky I was.
Still, if I couldn’t pay my bills, writing would be nothing more than a nighttime hobby as I tried to keep a roof over my head.
“Basilica is my favorite character ever.” Blair didn’t even realize I was on the same planet as her, let alone in the same bar. “I can’t help but feel she was based on me.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at Brody’s puzzled expression.
He looked genuinely confused. Blair was in her forties, if I had to guess, although her hairstyle made me reconsider that assumption.
She had what I called baby bangs. They were what happened when mothers got fed up with their kids’ hair and chopped bangs to keep it out of their faces.
It wasn’t just a few wispy bangs or anything even remotely flattering.
It was a full forehead of bangs that crept into the sides.
They were the sort of thing that would take years to grow out.
Her hair was a honey blond, although her eyebrows were dark so that told me the color was manufactured under foil and a dryer.
She wore a plaid skirt with ruffles just below her knee.
Her shirt was cotton and screen printed, and only when I shifted on my chair did I realize she had a huge face stretched across her ample bosom.
Seriously, her breasts were impressive. I was a solid B cup, but she had to be an E cup, if that was even a thing.
As for the face, it was a familiar one. It belonged to Brody. It was his official photo from his author page.
I had to swallow the mad urge to laugh. When I did manage to make eye contact with Brody, there was a challenge waiting for me. He was daring me to say something about the shirt. Or perhaps he was silently begging me to save him. Either way, I wasn’t an idiot. I said nothing.
“Basilica is one of my favorite characters too,” Brody said. “She’s a great villain.”
Blair knitted her brows. “Villain?”
I’d read the book in question. Actually, I’d read both of Brody’s books.
It was after the incident at the convention, when he claimed I’d ruined his life.
I’d heard gossip through the grapevine that he was melting down about me, so that naturally meant I wanted to read his work and tear it to shreds.
I couldn’t, though. It was too good. High fantasy wasn’t even my thing, yet I’d been sucked in to the story from the first page. As a casual Lord of the Rings fan, I had no idea the world-building in high fantasy could be so grand. Brody taught me a lesson on that front.
That was why, when it became obvious Blair was going to blow a gasket, I stepped in to save Brody without realizing what I was going to do.
“Basilica is one of those characters who has nuance,” I interjected.
“She’s not one thing, good or bad. She’s an antagonist for story purposes, which means she won’t get a happily ever after, but not every character can get a happily ever after.
The most complex characters are the ones who keep going without an ending in sight. ”
I thought I was being profound. Brody’s astonished stare suggested I’d hit the mark. Blair, however, must have felt otherwise.
“I was talking to Brody,” she said darkly.
I remained in my seat for what felt like a really long time then pushed myself to a standing position.
“Right.” I glanced at Brody, briefly wondering if he would say something to Blair, but he just sat there, like a deer in headlights.
“Right,” I repeated as I edged around the table. “I’m going to run to the restroom.”
I left Blair to lambast Brody—because that was exactly what was going to happen—and headed toward the hallway that led to the bathrooms. Blair was a superfan in the worst possible way.
She thought she could force Brody to change the narrative to her liking, and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
Well, if he wanted to deal with that sort of fan on his own, more power to him. I was just trying to help.
I took my time in the bathroom. Part of me wanted to be done for the evening because I was tired.
The other part wanted to make Brody suffer before I returned and magnanimously served as a distraction.
He would beg for me to help him then. Would I?
Of course not. I’d already done that, and it had backfired on me.
There was no way I was sticking my neck out again.
I was so lost in revenge fantasies that I wasn’t paying attention when I exited the bathroom and accidentally ran into an individual who was leaning against the corner wall that separated the men’s and women’s restrooms.
“So sorry,” I said automatically, holding up my hands in an effort not to collide with him. “I didn’t see you there.”
The man turned slowly, and my stomach collapsed internally when I saw his face.
“Well, hello again,” Joey drawled in what he likely assumed was a charming voice. For the record, it was pretty far from charming. It was … oily. That was the best word I could use to describe it.
“Hello,” I said, lost for anything else to say. “I … um…”
Over the last week and a half, I’d convinced myself I’d overreacted to Joey. He was just a guy who had imbibed a little too much one night and thought he was being flirty. It wasn’t a big deal.
Now, seeing him again, I was right back to being uncomfortable.
“It’s good to see you.” He leaned closer and I took an involuntary step back. “I was hoping to run into you again.”
That made one of us. I was still debating how to extricate myself from this situation—the hallway was small and cramped, and there was no exit for me to find unless I wanted to hunker down in the bathroom—when someone appeared in the hallway behind Joey.
I couldn’t make out facial features. Joey was too close, and there was no seeing around him. I did recognize the khakis, though.
“There you are!” Brody didn’t sound impatient or even angry. He reached around Joey and grabbed my hand. I didn’t fight him. Instead, I laced my fingers through his. “I’ve been waiting for you. Are you ready for dinner?”
Dinner? What’s he even talking about? Then I realized he was saving me and nodded, meeting his gaze around Joey’s shoulder.
“I’m starving,” I said, a little bit breathless, my irritation from moments before forgotten. “I’m totally ready for dinner.”