Chapter 5 #2
Another woman in line holds up her phone to snap a photo of Bailey. I nearly get up to tell her that she’s not to take any photos without permission, but then she and her friend lean in and smile together with the phone in her outstretched hand. Just taking a selfie while they wait.
Bailey suddenly nudges my knee beneath the table with hers, interrupting my focus. It’s soft at first, but the nudge grows harder and harder until it almost feels like a kick.
Peeling my eyes off the line, I finally let them sink into hers for what feels like the first real time tonight. Because it is.
I could forget my own name when our eyes meet, like time is doubling back, giving us just one extra second to take each other in.
“Hey,” she says. Her voice is soft and funny, like this is technically our first real hello for the evening.
I nod and smile back, stiffly, realizing that it kind of is, since my mind has been all over the place.
“Hey,” I answer, seeing nothing but her. My heart beats in my chest like a timer, counting down the seconds I’m allowed to spend just staring at her when I should be watching everyone else.
“I’m glad you finally showed up.” She smiles. “And decided to come back after running out,” she adds, catching her bottom lip between her teeth to harness whatever that tiny grin was about to turn into. I try not to stare at either one — her lips or her teeth. “It’s good to see you.”
I find myself grinning back. “It’s good to see you, too,” I tell her. “It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?”
“It’s been more than a minute,” she answers.
I start to shift my focus back to the people in line, but she points at the book I’m holding.
“By the way, you shouldn’t start with that one,” she tells me.
“If you want to read something I’ve written, start at the very beginning.
Book one, not book seven. Gotta work your way up. ”
She attempts to take the book from my hands, but I don’t let it go.
The woman who handed Bailey the list of names is watching, drifting her eyes back and forth between us like she’s figuring out a Sudoku puzzle.
Then mumbles, “Really? I didn’t realize your books go in any particular order.
And I’ve read them all.” She points to the book in my hand.
“You can start with this one,” she assures me.
Bailey doesn’t look up at the woman, but her ears turn red.
“Can’t wait,” I tell her, then I look back at Bailey, smiling as if I’ve just won permission.
Bailey presses her lips together, but doesn’t answer.
I set my copy of the book down on the tabletop and quickly shove my shirt cuffs up to my elbows, leaving the book unguarded to see if she’ll take it from right in front of me since she appears to want it back.
Bailey eyes it, but she doesn’t grab it. Instead, she chews at her lip like she’s working something out in her head.
When I pick it back up, she holds out a hand.
“I’ll sign it for you tonight, then I’ll mail it back to Boston. Less weight in your carry-on.”
I laugh, now fully questioning why she seems to want it back. I’ve read a small portion of one of her other books, so if it’s the spicy scenes she’s trying to hide, it’s too late for that.
“Right. And if the book gets mysteriously lost in the mail, I’ll just head down to the store and grab another,” I tell her.
She hums to herself, nodding, then returns to signing the stack of books for the woman, but her wheels are still turning on how to get this one back from me. It’s written all over her face, though I don’t know why.
When she’s done, she holds the stack out to the woman, then turns and points at my book.
“Give it up.”
“Nope,” I tell her.
The woman with the stack, now all signed, widens her eyes, but doesn’t leave the line. She giggles as she watches the exchange, then she looks at me nervously, like she has something to say.
“Come on,” Bailey says, motioning to the book I’m still holding.
I hold it further away so she’d have to reach around me to grab it.
The woman finally caves. “Okay, I’m so sorry but I have to ask.
” She’s already blushing. “My friends will kill me if I don’t.
” She points at me. “Is . . . this . . . a character model from Heartbreak? Are you two doing some type of role play at the table signing tonight? Brilliant, if you are. You look just like him.”
I eye Bailey, who’s stopped moving. I have no clue what character model means, but I do know what role play means. Just not in this particular instance.
When I look back at the woman, she’s the color of a watermelon slice and is looking at me like she already knows who I am.
“Uh, nope. No, this is just an old friend.” Bailey uncrosses her legs and sits up straighter.
“I only ask because he looks exactly like the guy you describe in this book, and on the cover. I read an extra excerpt online before tonight, and even the tattoos are exactly like—”
“A character model?” I repeat, eyeing a group of college-age girls who are all starting to shift on their feet, looking more than ready to move up in the line.
I turn to Bailey and notice that her neck is blotchy and red enough to match her ears. How could I forget about that? It was always one of my favorite ways to figure out that she was nervous. She begins shaking her head, but no words come out even though her mouth is already wide open.
“Oh my God! It is him then!” The woman squeals, clasping her hands together like she’s seeing a celebrity, except she’s staring right at me.
“Good lord, no,” Bailey insists, then she hands the woman her list of names with a tight smile. “What a fun guess though.” She laughs like she’s in on some game they’re playing. “Love those detective skills! Thanks for coming tonight. Take care, now.”
She waves her on, and the woman finally steps away from the table.
Speaking through the side of her teeth, Bailey mumbles just loud enough for me to hear, “I’m known for the tattoos on my male characters. Like a signature scent, except in a book. She’s just obviously noticed your tattoos, that’s all . . .”
Her finger lands on the ring of ink exposed at the base of my sleeves.
The next woman in line eyes my arms like they’re on tonight’s menu, and I turn to Bailey.
“What?”
“Just a romance genre thing.” She waves it off, like it’s silly. “Readers love a tattoo.”
“All tattoos?” I ask.
“I’ll explain later.” She waves me off. “Don’t even worry about it, um, but yeah, this line here might love those.” She taps my arm. “You might want to roll your shirt down if you want to avoid that question a few more times . . .”
Without asking, she grabs one of my sleeves and yanks it down to my wrist. I offer my other arm to let her pull that one down, too, watching the splotches on her neck grow, knowing damn well she only gets those when she’s feeling a certain way about something.
“Thanks for looking out for me,” I tell her, smiling until I get an eye roll, but her grin widens beneath it.
“Hi, I’m sorry, but did I hear something about a character model doing role play up here?” the next woman in line asks as she steps up. “Can I see the tattoos, too?”
Bailey’s smile goes rogue while she watches the woman’s eyes make a meal out of my forearms.
Then she startles when one of the catering staff I’d seen carrying a tray earlier leans over our chairs from behind and drops an envelope between our shoulders. It lands on the table right in front of Bailey, making her jump.
“I brought this from a fan,” the waitress says quietly to Bailey. “The guy who handed it to me earlier was very insistent that it be given to you and opened tonight.”
I stand to see the room more clearly. “Which way did he go?” I ask.
Bailey grabs the envelope off the table.
“Oh gosh, this was right before the reading. I didn’t want to interrupt anything, and then I got stuck in the kitchen for a bit. I told my boss I had to run this out to you before my shift ends.”
“What did he look like?” I ask, quickly surveying the room, but I don’t see the man who ran out anywhere.
“I think he was wearing a green shirt with a hat. Had a few tattoos. Probably no older than thirty-five or so, but he might have been bald. He had a hat on. I didn’t see any hair.”
“Oh, I bet that was John,” Bailey says at the same time I say, “That’s him.”
“What?” we both ask in unison.
“Who’s John?” I ask.
“Who’s him?” Bailey says, taken aback. “And what do you mean, him?”
Without answering, I grab the envelope from her.
“Rhett?” Her tone drops a notch. “What are you talking about, him?”
“Mind if I open this?” I ask, but I don’t wait for an answer.
“John comes to all my signings,” Bailey explains as I rip it open. She eyes the paper inside. “What are you doing? That’s not really yours to — Wait, what’s going on?”
Hollis should have canceled this whole thing tonight. I don’t know why she would have taken a chance like this.
One of the assistants I saw wrangling the line earlier appears beside the table.
“Is everything alright?” he asks.
“Yes, Simon,” Bailey tells him. “A fan passed on this note, that’s all.”
“He insisted that it be opened tonight,” I tell him, pointedly. Knowing that, as Hollis’ assistant, he likely knows what’s happening behind the scenes. “She thinks he might have left, but we can’t be sure.”
The waitress nods at him, wide-eyed.
“Thank you,” I tell her, and she leaves the table, heading back into the catering kitchen.
I pull a folded card from inside the envelope. The front has a drawing of one lone, yellow balloon and the word, Congratulations scribbled out.
Simon eyes me before turning to tell the line that Bailey will be taking a short break. Everyone begins looking around to see what’s wrong.
“I don’t need a break, Simon. I just started,” Bailey tells him. “Someone better tell me why you’re all acting so weird right now. What’s on that note?”
I flip it open and scan what’s inside.
Shit.
Before I get to the end of what’s written, I wrap an arm around Bailey and begin walking her backward toward the catering staff door, where I’ve seen trays coming in and out all night.
“Hang on,” I tell her, keeping myself between her and everyone else in the room.
“Rhett, what the hell is going on? What is that?” Her voice is sharp.
But I’m too busy scanning every entrance and trying to eyeball any sudden movements to answer. Whether Hollis likes it or not, the cat’s about to be out of the bag, and it’s happening right now.