Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
I did not anticipate starting my morning on my knees in the middle of the hotel lobby.
But here I am, digging under the couch cushions like a raccoon rooting through a dumpster, desperate for treasure. I've checked all three couches in the lobby, plus all of the chairs, even though I'm still certain this is where Rob stashed my beloved book last night.
Electric Love isn't here. No matter how many times I wave my hands across the sticky underside of these couch cushions.
How could I forget my book?
"Come on," I whisper furiously to the couch like it's personally holding out on me.
The missing book is my copy. The one with its spine creased with love and my favorite pages dog-eared because I'm a monster who often forgets to have bookmarks on hand.
All my favorite quotes highlighted. Some of the most poetic scenes marked with the colorful sticky notes I managed to carry around for two months before losing the entire set and returning to my controversial dog-earring habit.
My happy place is gone.
"Daisy!"
I pop up, cheeks flushing, as Gisele's sharp voice slices through the conversational hum of the lobby. Bea is hot on her heels, both of them in tight, matching dresses, their hair slicked back to give them the artificial appearance of having just stepped out of the shower.
The Temptation sisters in full Temptation mode with their perfectly curated smiles, perfectly in control, perfectly exhausting.
"There you are," Bea says, looking down her nose at me with a sneer. "We've been looking everywhere for you."
"Well, you found me, right here in the lobby, exactly where we agreed to meet this morning," I mutter as I stand, brushing the dust off my knees.
"No time for sarcasm," Gisele says. "The signing room is about to open to the readers, and you don't have our credit card reader set up yet." She holds the bag in her hands out to me with two fingers like it's a live grenade. "Let's go."
I want to argue. I want to tell them I lost something important, and that they're capable of getting the card machine up and working themselves while I continue my search.
But I follow them to the event hall, passing the line of readers waiting for entry, and flash my badge behind them to get access to the signing room.
Instead of dragging my feet, I remind myself why I'm here in the first place.
After all, I've been trying to quit this job for months.
My full-time job is running social media for a major dog rescue organization. The pay working for a non-profit is low, which is why I let my sweet stepmother, Sherry, talk me into temporarily working for my stepsisters to help me pay off the last of my student loans.
Now that they're paid off, I'm perfectly happy to live off my regular income and the ad revenue for my book review blog. But Gisele and Bea haven't managed to find a replacement since everyone they hire quits after the third day.
Cue Sherry sweet-talking me into staying on a little longer to get them through this major event.
Sherry is the only mother figure I've ever had since my mother died shortly after I was born and my father never dated anyone else before bringing home Sherry and her two daughters.
I've never been good at telling her no.
How did the sweetest woman in the world manage to give birth to two such self-centered menaces? What are the odds that both of them could have been switched at birth in the hospital?
"The banner is crooked," Bea whines as we reach their table.
"You really need two people to put up these full backdrops correctly," I say through gritted teeth. I did my best, but without help, the background is maybe an inch or two off-center. Better than expected after how much I struggled, in my opinion.
Gisele tosses her hair over her shoulder. "We're due to get a new one anyway." She shrugs.
I squint at her as she slips behind the table to assess my work from yesterday, trying to find a way to make her comment seem rational. The banner is crooked, not broken.
The main doors open as we reach their table, fans spilling into the space with bright smiles, excited chatter, and bags loaded with books they brought from home to get signed.
I love seeing the people who attend these events because there's always such a variety of people, mostly women, coming together to celebrate a genre (most of us) love dearly.
Gisele and Bea snap into performance mode instantly, standing posed together beside their banner, each with one hand poised on their slightly cocked hip. A little haughty, but not so unapproachable that it will turn readers away.
My stepsisters may talk in private about how annoying and ridiculous they think dedicated romance readers are, but they've managed to make their author personas believable enough that their fans have no idea.
I drop my gaze and focus on straightening everything up on the table one last time. My job is to keep their assembly line moving during the signing, not to wallow about how undeserving my stepsisters are of their fan base.
Besides, some readers don't care about anything other than whether or not they like the next book. Maybe more people see through the charade than I think, and they just don't care.
I'm not sure if the thought makes me feel any better.
Just in time for our first customer of the day, I manage to get the credit card reader working. A woman with lavender hair points at one of the books on the table. "I'd like to buy one copy of this, please," she says shyly.
"Great!" Not great. Ugh. I'm pretty sure half of the book she's pointing to was written by a ghostwriter that Gisele and Bea bragged about underpaying.
But since it's not the woman's fault, I'm careful to keep my smile firmly in place and not take my annoyance out on her.
"That'll be twenty dollars. Cash or card? "
"I have cash," she says barely above a whisper. She seems extra nervous.
"That's a really cool jacket." I gesture to the jean jacket she's wearing that's covered in romance-themed pins. "Is this your first book signing?"
She nods sheepishly. "That obvious?"
"Only to someone who was the exact same the first time I attended one of these." I wave off her worry breezily. "Don't worry, though, there's no friendlier event for a first-timer than a book signing. We're all here for the very same reason! Welcome to the chaos."
I take the twenty-dollar bill she offers me and hand over her new book.
"The Temptation Sisters will sign that for you, and I can take a picture for you, if you want." I don't always offer, but as someone who has attended many book signings alone, I sympathize with readers who might be stuck with awkward selfies all day with their favorite authors.
"That would be great!" Her beaming smile is sweet as her shoulders sag with relief. I'm glad she came to this table first–and interacted with me before moving on to my stepsisters–so I could start her experience off right.
A line has already started to form for the table. I tell the next group in line, "Be right back!" and step out to take the reader's phone.
"My sister is a huge fan, and she convinced me to get this book to read when I start chemo next week," Lavender Hair tells Bea as the sisters sign her book.
Gisele hands the reader her book back. "You're sure to be better in no time, reading our book during your treatment." She smiles with a practiced warmth that doesn't quite reach her eyes, not that anyone besides me knows her well enough to notice.
Bea poses for the picture, saying nothing. The reader doesn't seem to notice.
I snap the photo of the three of them smiling like they've just had the best interaction ever. I wish my stepsisters would ask more questions. Actually care about, and get to know, their fans.
When Lavender Hair reaches to take her phone back, I stall a moment to quickly put my contact info in. "My name is Daisy, and this is my info. If you need a bookish buddy during your treatment, or just want someone to talk to, don't hesitate to reach out."
"Wow." Lavender Hair stares wide-eyed at me. "Really?"
"Really. What was your name?"
"Anna."
"I have to get back to my post, Anna, but I'm glad I got to chat with you for a second. I'm not kidding about reaching out, okay? I hope everything goes well."I give her forearm a gentle squeeze and hand her phone back over.
The signing continues on much the same way, with the Temptation Sisters signing and posing while I spend my time trying to get to know the readers on a more personal level. I ask people about their favorite book boyfriends, their guilty pleasure re-reads, and how many books they read last year.
I see a few readers I recognize from social media, though I don't comment. I'm not ready to reveal that I'm the face behind my book blog. Being an anonymous reviewer is a lot less pressure.
"Cool dress!" one reader tells me, admiring the daisy print of my retro-style dress. "And I'm sorry if this is rude, but is that your real hair color? It's beautiful!"
I beam. "Yep! Natural redhead."
"Daisy!" Gisele calls for me, shaking her empty water bottle with a raised eyebrow. "Could you pretty please get us some water. This room is a little hot, and we're parched."
Bea nods along, a smug smile on her face as they tear me away from the sweet reader paying me compliments.
How dare I steal a single ounce of attention from them by daring to exist?
"Sure, I'll be right back." I force as wide a smile as I can muster as I take their water bottles. Giselle slips past me to take over selling to the line. Funny how she wanted nothing to do with making her own sales until my stepsisters wanted me out of the way...
The closest water station isn't very busy because, contrary to Giselle's claim, the signing room has actually maintained a comfortable temperature all morning.
Usually, these crowded spaces inevitably leave me feeling overheated and glistening with sweat, but the organizer of today's event seems to have thought of everything.
If the event organizer, Nina, decides to hold another signing, I'll be first in line for tickets for the next one.
(As a reader next time, of course.)
Two women walk up to wait behind me as I fill Bea's bottle. My ears perk up at the mention of a certain model, and I catch myself eavesdropping on their conversation.
"Sara's line was really long, so I haven't gotten to meet Rob yet. I love when authors bring the models with them, but I feel bad when I'm more interested in gawking at the models than getting a book signed. I just can only fit so many books in my suitcase for the trip home, y'know?"
"Totally." The second woman lowers her voice conspiratorially, but I can still hear her clearly.
"I heard one of the volunteers say they're about to start moving the models to the lobby early for the model meet-and-greet, though.
Maybe if we go out and linger nearby, we might get a chance to snag a quick picture with some of the models? "
"I love that idea! Let's do it, and then we can come back in when other people are going out for the meet-and-greet."
Bless the bookworm gossip gods.
All I have to do is find a good excuse to disappear for a few minutes from Gisele and Bea's table, and then I can try to hit Sara Fox's table while Rob is out getting ready for the meet-and-greet with the other models.
Once I get my hands on a new copy of my comfort book, I'm convinced everything in the world would be right again. My heart rate won't keep spiking from memories of last night. The over-stimulation of the crowded event won't feel so big and scary. And I won't feel so lost anymore.
Electric Love , here I come!