Chapter 23 Maya
Maya
The Barnes and Noble’s cafe smelled like cinnamon and espresso. Afternoon light pooled across the tables, and the hum of conversation was quiet.
Maya sat with her notebook open, pen tapping against the margin, scanning the questions she’d prepared for interviewing Mel Pearson. The event was already set—folding chairs lined between the stacks, a display table stacked high with Mel’s paperbacks, a bookseller testing the mic stand.
All she had to do was sip her latte, go over her notes, and wait.
Her phone buzzed. Then again. And again.
At first she ignored it but the name at the top of her screen made her glance down.
Simone:
Check out what I just posted ??
The preview image was a boxer taping his hands and a little icon that read “Headphones only!”
Maya tapped it, and immediately heard the low, hungry timbre of Theo’s voice, her own answering breath. The whimper. The growled reply.
The kind of audio that left nothing to the imagination.
The blood drained from her face so fast she went cold.
Her thumb hit the call button before she could think better of it.
Simone picked up on the second ring, sounding bright and oblivious. “You’re welcome.”
“Why did you post that?” Maya kept her voice low.
“The teaser? I told you I was going to schedule a bunch of posts for this week. Preorders are going through the roof.”
Maya quickly searched her memory for that conversation.
It was right before she picked up the phone to lie to her brother…
“That wasn’t a teaser, Simone. That was practice audio. That was—” she swallowed hard, glancing toward the counter where a barista was calling out drink orders. “—not for public release.”
Simone actually laughed. “That’s what made it so hot! You two sound amazing together, like some forbidden radio play. Girl—twenty-three preorders in the last hour.”
“I think I’m having a hot flash,” Maya whispered, shoving her pen into her notebook spiral and snatching both off the table. She was already on her feet, moving.
“I know that’s right!”
“No, Simone… no, no, no,” Maya said, weaving past a stroller and a display of rainbow totebags, her free hand fanning her face. “I still haven’t come up with a plan for announcing Theo’s participation.” She pushed through the front door into the cooler air outside.
“But I haven’t tagged him.” Her assistant said. “No one’s going to know.”
Maya closed her eyes, hoping that Simone was right, but certain she wasn’t. “Maybe… Could you check the comments?”
There was a pause on the line, long enough for Maya to hear the faint creak of Simone’s chair as she shifted.
“Oh… well, you’ve a few readers wondering if this is Elle and Chris, and—ooookay, well, it looks like you and Theo have already cross-pollinated.”
“What does that mean?”
“Jesus… this ‘spookygirljane’ is obsessed with Theo,” Simone murmured. “How the hell does she know it’s him?”
“Fuck.” Maya opened her eyes and started pacing in front of the bookstore window, keeping her voice quiet so passing shoppers wouldn’t overhear. “Can we delete her comment?”
“No, because it always looks sus when pages start deleting comments. Besides, a couple other people have already replied to her.”
“Dammit. What are they saying?”
“They’re excited, but I think I should just gonna take the post down…” Simone clicked her mouse a few times, “now.”
“Thank you,” Maya exhaled, but her relief was short-lived. “How long has it been up?”
“Uh… about two hours?”
Maya stopped pacing. “Two hours?” Her voice pitched higher than she meant, and she had to glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was looking.
“That’s not that long,” Simone said quickly. “I mean, sure, people have shared it, but—”
“Oh my God.” Maya pressed her palm flat to her forehead. Two hours was forever in internet time. If Theo hadn’t seen it yet, he’d soon hear about it.
She swallowed hard, forcing her voice back into something steady. “Okay. You’ve deleted the post, so that’s good. Can you replace it with something else? A list of tropes or something?”
“I got it,” Simone said softly. “I’m sorry, Maya.”
“This isn’t your fault,” Maya told her. “You’re doing your job, and I really appreciate you. It’s just…”
She stopped, the words sticking in her throat.
Somewhere along the way, she’d lost control of this project.
She’d been distracted, missing details she should’ve planned—like how Theo wanted to be credited, when he’d want to announce the news to his own fanbase.
At the end of the day, the Instagram page read MayaBrooksWrites. Her name. Her responsibility.
“You’re doing a good job,” she finished finally. “This probably isn’t even a big deal.”
“Probably!” Simone tried to sound upbeat, but her voice wavered around the edges.
Maya managed a quiet laugh. “Talk to you later.”
She ended the call and stared at her phone, thumb hovering over her messages. For one long heartbeat, she almost texted Theo. Warn him. Control the narrative before someone else did.
But if he didn’t know yet, she wasn’t going to be the one to tip him off in the middle of his event.
Not unless he called her first.
“…and the way you wove the music into the setting was just gorgeous,” Maya said, smiling across the small café table.
“It really felt like Clarisse embodied the hope and excitement of the Harlem Renaissance. Between her dancing for Smalls Paradise and running booze with William, you managed to keep jazz in the forefront.”
Mel Pearson laughed warmly. “Thank you. I wanted it to feel alive, something that readers could hear as they read.” She adjusted the gold bangle on her wrist, leaning in. “But enough about me. You’ve got a release coming up, don’t you?”
Maya’s smile tightened a fraction. “In a few weeks, yeah.”
“Oh, I know,” Mel said, eyes lighting up. “I heard a little sample on the way here. That audio clip for Sweat? Whew.” She fanned herself dramatically. “If the rest of the audiobook sounds like that, you’re about to ruin lives.”
Maya kept her laugh easy, even as her stomach gave a slow, heavy turn. Please don’t let it be everywhere.
“I, uh… we’ve been working hard on it,” she said.
“Clearly,” Mel teased. “What’s it like, producing something that intimate? I’ve always thought about doing audio, but the idea of reading my own words out loud? I’d die.”
And just like that, the interviewer had become the interviewee. Mel’s curiosity sparkled and her questions came quickly like someone who was genuinely happy to spread the attention.
Maya leaned forward, letting herself ride the moment, even if part of her brain was still focused on that Instagram post, willing it into oblivion.
“Uh, well? I definitely didn’t want to do it at first. But, you know,” she glanced at the audience, “sometimes things don’t work out the way you expect.”
Mel tilted her head, interest sharpening. “So how’d you end up with him?”
That little stress-crease between Maya’s brows almost made an appearance. “My regular narrators canceled. My deadline was still looming, so I… improvised.”
“Oh, I love an improvisation story,” Mel said. “And judging from that clip, you and your Plan B have some serious chemistry.”
Maya laughed lightly, careful not to confirm or deny. “He’s very good at what he does.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Mel teased, and the audience chuckled along with her. “Seriously though, was it awkward at first?”
“Not awkward, exactly…” Maya trailed off, feeling a dozen curious faces trained on her. “Just… different. More intense than I’d anticipated.”
Mel grinned like she’d just been handed a prime plot twist. “Different is good. Different sells.” She gestured to the audience. “Don’t you all agree?”
Applause rippled through the crowd, and Maya smiled with them—though inside, she was still counting the minutes until she could get offstage and check her phone again.
“That’s kind of you, Mel,” Maya said. “How would you feel about a short Q&A before you start signing?”
“Sure,” Mel said brightly, turning toward the rows of chairs. “Does anyone have questions?”
A few hands went up right away. Someone asked about Mel’s research process, another about balancing romance with historical accuracy. Maya kept her smile in place, passing the mic from one eager reader to the next.
It was going smoothly, exactly as she’d planned. And yet, as the third question began, Maya’s gaze flicked over the audience, scanning for anyone searching social media for that post.
Nothing. Just friendly faces, nodding along.
She let out a slow breath and reminded herself to focus on the present, on Mel’s easy laughter and the way the audience leaned in to catch every word. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in trouble.
What if news had gotten back to Nate?
Was she going to have to lie to him again?
The Q&A wrapped with a round of applause, Mel thanking everyone for their thoughtful questions before heading to the signing table. Maya stepped aside to give her space, still smiling as she thanked the booksellers and waved to a few familiar faces in the crowd.
It was only when she ducked behind the display table to grab her tote bag that she realized her hands were trembling just enough to make the zipper stick.
She smoothed it open, pulled out her phone, and saw the screen light up. Six new messages and three missed calls.
Her stomach tightened as she opened the latest text.
Theo:
We need to talk about that post.