Chapter 2
R o e m y
MY alarm went off at nine the next morning, and I rolled over to Regis, groaning next to me. “Have a good trip, boo,” he mumbled, half asleep. “Good luck with everything.”
“Thanks,” I said, but he was already out again.
I got dressed quickly, grabbed my suitcase, and headed downstairs. The Uber pulled up shortly after, and we went to pick up Shamari. Of course, she was standing outside her apartment building with a large suitcase and a carry-on, looking like she was ready for a photoshoot instead of a flight.
That was my cousin for you. She had never met an outfit she couldn’t elevate or a room she couldn’t walk into and immediately have a blast. She was medium height, caramel-skinned, and gorgeous in that effortless kind of way that made women ask where she shopped and made men lose their train of thought mid-conversation.
Her goddess locs were done to perfection and she seemed to be wearing the perfect amount of makeup even if it was only ten o’clock in the morning.
“Girl, how much did you pack?” I laughed, rolling down the window as she loaded her luggage into the trunk.
“Listen, I don’t know what kinda events they got planned, and I’m not about to be caught looking basic. I brought options, okay?” She slid into the backseat and grinned at me. “You ready for this?”
“I’ve been ready.”
“Good ‘cause it’s gonna be a timeeee, cousin.”
The drive to the airport was easy. Traffic was light, and we made it through security without any issues. By the time we were sitting in the first-class lounge, sipping mimosas and waiting for our flight to board, I was starting to feel that buzz of excitement.
“I can’t believe I don’t have to deal with Patrick and his annoying ass for the next three days,” Shamari said, scrolling through her phone. “Nothing but books, fine men, and good vibes. This is what dreams are made of.”
“You’re a hot ass mess. You and Patrick still off and on these days?”
“Girl, I’m over him. What did Bey say? If the nigga liked it, he woulda put a damn ring on it. It’s been too long. I’m having fun this weekend.”
“And by fun,” I smirked at her. “You been another man?”
“Can I get a whoop whoop?” We laughed and sipped our mimosas. “You still nervous about everything?”
“A little. You know I’ve been to plenty of book events and have done panels before, but keynote shit is different. That’s a whole ballroom of people staring at you and waiting for you to say something that matters.”
“You’ll kill it. You always do. Plus, you’re thee Roe Blackwell. People love you.”
I smiled. “You’re right. My readers love me real bad.”
“They do.” Shamari leaned back in her chair. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll run into Case while we’re there.”
My stomach flipped again at the mention of his name. “Here you go…”
“You know you got it bad for that man.” I sipped my mimosa, trying to ignore her. “Y’all are two of the biggest names in the erotica game. Y’all are definitely gonna cross paths.” She gave me a look. “And when you do, don’t act all shy and professional. Shoot your freaky shot.”
“Again, I’m already fucking someone, Shamari.”
“And again, that’s barely true. You deserve to feel some real dick for a change.”
I didn’t respond. I just took another sip of my mimosa and let her words settle. When they called our flight, we boarded first and had a flight attendant who kept the drinks coming. Shamari fell asleep before we even took off, but I couldn’t. I had my iPad on my lap, going over my keynote speech.
I also thought about what Shamari had said about feeling something real.
I thought about Regis back home, in my condo, probably still asleep.
No, he was most likely on the game and eating up my food.
I thought about Case Wilson and the way he wrote women as if he could see straight into their souls.
The flight was two hours, and by the time we landed, I was tipsy as hell.
Shamari woke up as we started our descent, stretching and yawning like she’d just had the best nap of her life.
We made our way off the airplane and through the terminal.
The airport was busy with people rushing in every direction.
As we walked toward baggage claim, I saw a man in a black suit holding a sign with my name on it.
“Oh shit, look at you,” Shamari said, nudging me. “Monisa set you up with a driver, bitch?”
“You know it.”
The driver smiled when he saw us approaching. “Ms. Blackwell?”
“That’s me.”
“Welcome, ladies. I’m James. I’ll be taking you to the hotel.” He reached for our suitcases. “Let me get those for you.”
“Thank you.”
He led us outside to where a black limo was waiting at the curb. Shamari’s eyes went wide. “Bitch! We’re riding in a limo?!”
“Calm down!”
James loaded our suitcases into the trunk and opened the door for us. “My wife loves your books. She’s read all of them.”
“Really? That’s amazing. Tell her I said thank you.”
“Oh, I definitely will. She’s gonna lose her damn mind when I tell her I drove you.” We slid into the limo, and I had to stop myself from laughing. The seats were leather, and there was a mini bar stocked with champagne and water.
“This is lit,” Shamari said, running her hand over the seat. “I ain’t been in a limo since I went to prom.”
“Enjoy it. I love this for you.”
James got in the driver’s seat and pulled away from the curb.
The city of Wellrocke stretched out before us, with tall buildings, busy streets, and people everywhere.
The limo turned down a side street and pulled up in front of The Grandview Hotel.
“Here we are,” James said, putting the limo in park.
He got out and opened the back door for us. A bellhop was already there, loading our bags onto a cart. I stepped out of the limo and looked up at the hotel. It was at least twenty stories tall, all glass and steel, reflecting the sky.
“This is crazy,” I said under my breath.
“This is what you deserve,” Shamari said, linking her arm through mine. “Now come on. Let’s go check in.” We walked through the front doors, and the lobby took my breath away.
There were people everywhere, some of them checking in, some of them sitting in the lounge area with drinks, and some of them just standing around talking.
I waved at a few authors I’d seen at other events, writers whose books I’d read, and people who were just as much a part of this world as I was.
“Ms. Blackwell?” A woman in a crisp black suit approached us with a smile. She had a tablet in her hand and an earpiece in her ear. “Welcome to The Grandview. I’m Tasmine, one of the event coordinators for the conference. We’re so glad to have you here.”
“Thank you. It’s good to be here.”
“We have you set up in Suite 2019 on the twentieth floor. It’s one of our best suites with a beautiful view of the city.
” She handed me a key card. “Your welcome packet is already in the room, along with the schedule for this weekend. If you need anything at all during your stay, don’t hesitate to call the concierge.
We’re here to make sure you have everything you need. ”
“I appreciate it.”
“Of course. And as you may know, there’s a welcome mixer tonight at seven in the ballroom. It’s a chance for all the authors and attendees to meet and mingle before the official events start tomorrow. We’d love to see you there.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Perfect. Enjoy your stay, Ms. Blackwell.” Tasmine smiled at Shamari. “And you as well.”
“Oh, I definitely plan to,” Shamari said.
We followed the bellhop to the elevators.
As we waited, I looked around the lobby again and saw Case Wilson.
He was standing near the concierge desk talking to someone I didn’t recognize.
He was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, a crisp white T-shirt, and sneakers.
Even from across the lobby, I could feel the cocky and magnetic energy coming off him. My heart started pounding instantly.
“Girl, is that Case?” Shamari whispered, following my gaze.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“Damn. He really is even finer in person.” And he was.
Pictures and videos hadn’t done him justice.
Case looked like the kind of man people noticed the second he walked into a room, whether he wanted the attention or not.
He towered over damn near everybody around him, easily well over six feet, with the kind of broad shoulders that made him seem even bigger.
He had to be somewhere around two-fifty, but it wasn’t sloppy weight.
It was solid. He had the kind of build that looked like he could throw a grown man through a wall and then sit down and casually write a best selling novel afterward.
His haircut was simple, a clean low cut with jet-black curls sitting on top that looked soft enough to run my fingers through.
His beard was neatly trimmed and shaped perfectly around a jawline sharp enough to make a woman stare longer than she meant to.
And Lord, his flashy chains rested against his chest, catching the light every time he moved.
There was a watch on his wrist that looked expensive enough to pay somebody’s rent for a year, and everything about him screamed money without him having to announce it.
People gravitated toward him naturally. Men respected him, and women watched him, including me, apparently because I’d been staring entirely too long.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. The bellhop gestured for us to step inside, and I forced myself to move. As the doors started to close, I looked up more time to see Case looking right at me. Our eyes met for just a second and then the doors closed.
“Oh shit,” Shamari said, grinning. “Did you see that? He was looking at you.”
“He wasn’t looking at me. He was just looking.”
“Girl, stop playing. That man saw you, and he clocked you.” She insisted, and I didn’t respond.
I just leaned back against the elevator wall and tried to catch my breath. The elevator climbed, floor after floor, and I felt like I was floating. By the time we reached the twentieth floor, my hands were shaking. The bellhop led us down the hall to Suite 2019 and opened the door.
The suite was massive, with a king-size bed, a sitting area with a couch and a flat-screen TV, floor-to-ceiling windows, a balcony, and a view of the entire city. There was a welcome basket on the table with champagne, chocolates, and a handwritten note.
“This is dope,” Shamari said, walking over to the windows. “Look at this view.”
I set my purse down and looked around. This was real.
This was happening. I was at the biggest book conference of the year, and Case Wilson was somewhere in the same hotel, like something out of a dream.
I walked over to the window and stood next to Shamari.
The city stretched out below us, endless and full of possibility.