Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
"That was the last preorder," I tell Giselle in between her photo ops with waiting readers. The line has dwindled down to only a few last readers stopping by. The signing is nearly over, and then it'll be time to pack everything up.
Bea crosses her arms over her chest and smiles smugly. "And we sold out of almost every book."
I flash a smile for as long as I can hold it, then duck back under the table where I'm busy rounding up the last of their inventory and remaining swag. Once the event officially closes, everyone will want to get out of here fast.
The elevators are going to be packed. I'm glad they sold so much if only because we have less to cart upstairs.
I would be genuinely happy for them if they were anyone else.
Forcing a supportive smile truly pains me, but I know the best way to survive the last of this event is to take the path of least resistance.
Otherwise, they could make the last twenty-four hours of this trip pretty miserable for me.
Their harsh words and dismissive attitudes always leave me feeling bruised and beaten after we spend any length of time together.
I can't imagine how much worse they could be if I attempted to call them out.
The last time I tried, we were teenagers, and I cried in my room for three days afterward.
This is why there are so many re-tellings of Cinderella. People like me need an outlet for their messy feelings about their awful stepsisters.
At least The Lover's Lane Experience is nearly over, and I managed to have more fun than I expected. As far as events with my stepsisters go, this has been fairly painless compared to others.
In twenty-four hours, I will officially be done working for the Temptation Sisters for good. Even for Sherry, I won't put myself through this anymore.
And things are ending on a... Well, not a good note. But a tolerable one.
With words barely muffled through the tablecloth, I hear Gisele suddenly turn on her sultriest voice. I freeze with a book in each hand. "Hi there, handsome. Want us to sign your abs?"
I freeze holding a book in each hand, my breath catching in my throat.
Did I seriously just jinx myself this badly?
"I'm looking for Daisy, is she around?" Rob asks in his voice that's become too familiar for me to try to convince myself some other man at the book signing could be looking for me.
" Daisy?" The horrified way Bea says my name makes her sound like she's trying to cough up a hairball.
"Yeah. Is she around somewhere?" Rob asks again, a harder edge to his voice like he's growing impatient quickly.
I can only imagine how hard my stepsisters are both gawking at him.
They probably have no idea who Sara Fox is, but Giselle is chronically online enough that's she's definitely seen the fan videos gushing over the hot cover model.
Even if neither of them recognized him, they'd probably still gawk just over how hot he is. Like smoking . He should be walking a red carpet, not padding around on this hotel's questionably stained burgundy carpet.
"Daisy is busy," Giselle answers flippantly, taking advantage of the fact that I haven't popped my head out to greet our new table guest.
"She's probably changing her tampon or something," Bea adds.
Horrified, I jerk my head up ready to protest, forgetting about my current lack of headroom. "Ow!" I yelp as I slam my head into the table hard enough to rattle the whole thing.
I squeeze my eyes shut and press my hand to the top of my head. I'm actually more embarrassed than hurt.
When I open my eyes again, Rob has crouched down in front of the table and lifted the tablecloth to peer at me underneath. His worried look dissipates when I greet him with a sheepish smile.
"You know," he drawls, "Sara used to tease me that if any woman was dumb enough to marry me, she would wind up spending most of her time hiding from me. So, maybe this is what I get for telling those readers you were my wife yesterday."
"Sounds like you give women a good reason to hide, then. Have you tried therapy for that?" I joke, tilting my head as I stare back at him in feigned earnestness.
"Couples counseling already? If I'd known our marriage was in this much trouble, I would have whisked you away to the pool sooner."
Rob drops the curtain, and I crawl out from underneath the table as ladylike as I can manage while wearing a dress. There's a bemused twitch to his lips as he watches me brush imaginary dust from my hips.
"Why the pool?" I ask when our eyes meet again.
He pats his stomach. "Because I'm convinced you wouldn't be able to resist me once I'm modeling your favorite book for you in real life. That's the only reason I've kept my shirt on for this long." He tugs the hem up a few inches, slowly exposing the waistband of his dark jeans. "But I could–"
"Keep it on!" I yelp, eyes widening with alarm. I'm not sure how serious he is.
"Or don't," Bea mutters.
I glance back just in time to see Giselle elbow Bea in the side. They're both watching my exchange with Rob in rapt fascination.
Rob drops his shirt and crosses his arms over his chest. He still points an easy smile at me, but I sense an underlying tension as his muscles bunch.
I wish we didn't have an audience for this silly interaction.
Last night felt like a special, secret memory just for me.
Now, I'll have to explain to my sisters that I didn't actually marry a stranger last night, and that this is just an inside joke that started inside a party I wasn't supposed to attend.
So much for getting back before midnight so that my evil stepsisters never know I snuck away to the ball.
Can real life ever be half as good as the fairy tales?
Maybe.
When there's a guy as alluring as Rob standing in front of me, anything seems possible.
"Seriously, though... I tracked you down so I could apologize.
" He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Last night, I waited in the lobby for a while in case you remembered your book and came back down.
When you didn't show, I took the book with me knowing you'd come looking eventually.
I told Sara everything this morning to get her help looking for you today.
I thought you might check her table in case someone turned the book in.
I didn't expect you to feel like you had to buy a whole other copy. "
Without waiting for me to respond, he reaches into his pocket and retrieves a twenty-dollar bill. I make no move to take the money because I'm not interested in returning my new book.
Having an extra copy of my favorite book isn't exactly a hardship.
"This isn't a refund," Rob clarifies like he's reading my mind. "Sara still has your twenty; I'm giving you the money from my own pocket."
I shake my head and still don't take the money. "You don't have to do that. I'm the one that ran off and forgot my book in the first place. Twenty bucks is a small price to pay when I got my book back, plus two new ones. Don't worry about it."
"Either you take this money," he quirks an eyebrow, "or you at least let me use the money to buy you a drink tonight."
My spine stiffens.
"That's not necessary," I say in a tight voice, once again acutely aware that my stepsisters are hearing every word. Mercifully, he hasn't revealed too much about last night yet. Maybe I can still spin the story in my favor without pissing them off so much they're unbearable on the plane ride home.
"You can buy me a drink," Bea offers, moving beside me and cocking her hip in a flirty way.
Gisele grabs Bea by the arm and tugs her back. She doesn't care about defending my honor; she takes Bea's place and flashes her own sultry pose. "I'm available tonight."
Rob looks me dead in the eyes with a pained look. If he's waiting for me to rescue him from them, he's going to be waiting until he's a gorgeous silver fox because I'm not getting in between him and my stepsisters when they've entered cat-in-heat mode.
Also, I think the stress of this interaction is making my ADHD meds wear off early. Is that a thing? I should ask my psychiatrist the next time I see him.
What were you all talking about again?
"I'm actually available for a drink right now!" Bea's voice turns shrill with desperation. The sisters might be teammates when it comes to making money, but they've always been competitors when men are involved.
I'm pretty sure they took the same guy to senior prom. Now that I think about it, they also wore the same bright red dress.
Sisters are complicated.
Seeing that I intend to offer no help, Rob's expression turns frosty toward them. "I'm going to pass, ladies. If you don't mind, this is a private conversation between Daisy and me."
"This is our table," Gisele points out. She gives a haughty hair toss for good measure.
Rob's attention has already returned to me.
He's serious. This man is asking to buy me a drink even after I sprinted away from him at a party... and again at his sister's table. I'm not sure if this makes him crazy or just genuinely interested.
Either way, I'm tempted to find out for myself. A healthy dose of crazy never hurt one.
And if I find myself nervously running away from him again, well, third time's the charm, right?
I should not–under any circumstances–run away again.
Not even as a joke in my own head. Wherever Rob wants to have a drink with me tonight, I need to plant myself in a seat and stay there!
(Wishful thinking as a woman whose ADHD is her most self-defining character trait, but I deserve to manifest a little calm for myself tonight.)
Rob seems to sense I'm amenable, his smile growing wide and making his dimple pop.
"There's a rooftop after-party tonight for authors, models, and assistants.
You should meet me there. Now that your identity isn't a mystery, there's a lot I'm hoping you'll tell me about yourself.
" Between his sweet smile and the nervous way he shuffles his feet, he gives off a boyish charm that's impossible to deny.
"Okay, but you'll probably need to buy me that drink first if you're planning to get a whole life story out of me. My mouth gets dry when I talk a lot."
Why did I feel the need to add that part? Mentally, I'm face-palming myself.
Rob grins. "That can be arranged. It's a date, then."
I hear a sharp gasp behind me; I can't tell if it's from Gisele or Bea. Either way, I silently revel over him eliciting such a reaction from them. For once, they aren't the ones getting the guy or holding all the power.
A girl could get used to having her evil stepsisters humbled by her very own prince charming.
"Did he just say it's a date?" Bea whispers incredulously and furiously to Gisele.
She's not quite enough to avoid Rob hearing her. He glares past me, and Bea swallows so hard that I can hear her gulp.
One thing about my stepsisters is that they usually try to minimize showing their true colors in the middle of an event.
When we get back upstairs, with me no doubt lugging all of their stuff for them again, they're sure to trash talk the event, the readers, and the other authors.
They turn shameless behind closed doors. Constant criticism.
As much as they hate the attention Rob is giving me, they're doing their best to keep their public personas firmly in place now that they know he won't be giving them the time of day in a romantic sense.
There will probably be hell for me to pay over this later. But you know what? Some things are worth paying for.