Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Jaq
Rule number one on the way to your first author event: avoid that trenta green tea lemonade drenched in caffeine when you've got several blocks to walk.
Not only was I twenty minutes late for my first ever book signing, (was it even a signing when I had no books to sign yet?) I had to hear all about it from my agent as I held my bladder hoping I didn't pee on myself before I reached the venue.
“Jaq. We've talked about this. How many reminders did I send you about the dates and times of all the signings I lined up for you?” Truthfully, as a newly retired news anchor, my time became more…frivolous. I used to live by alarms and strict deadlines, things that truly stressed me the fuck out.
Now that I leaned into this whole creative thing, it was nice not to have my whole week planned out. But today of all days, I wish I hadn’t chosen today to break out my thick soled Doc Marten’s. These things were hell when you were damn near in a rush.
“I know, I know. I just completely lost track of time waiting on the super to come and fix my ceiling fan.
I didn't want that man alone in my house, but I promise I'm only like five minutes away.” I didn't mention how so much had changed since I've been away.
Neighborhoods and monuments I knew and once loved were slowly losing the war to gentrification.
Every other block I took a double take trying to remember what had been there before, replaced by a trendy new yoga studio.
With the library in sight, I fought with the heavy front doors headed towards the closest bathroom. As if I couldn't be more ill-fated, there was another person waiting to use it, as he turned to me, a warm smile spreading across his full lips.
“I haven't been waiting long but judging by your jumpiness, you're free to go ahead of me.” His accent betraying my initial first thought of him.
With long, curly hair that he wore half up and half down and toasted sun-kissed brown skin, I pegged him for Latin American. I mean, the demographics of Mott Haven was largely Caribbean Latino, but his accent was more down under.
“I don't mean to be overly dramatic, it's just nowhere around here has a public bathroom, and I practically ran blocks to get here. I really appreciate you letting me go first. Whenever that person comes out anyways,” I said, folding my jittery arms across my chest. My in-line buddy licked his lips, and I had to look down for a second, because those piercing dark eyes behind geeky round frames were a bit too welcoming.
He was distractingly tall, but that brown skin made the earthy green oversized sweater he was rocking a bit warmer.
Friendly and approachable, but adding to the nerdiness of his look.
My guess was that he was in his early twenties, totally someone I could have bagged when I was in college if he wasn’t obsessed with type.
I know the girlies were sweating him heavy.
There is no way he didn’t walk away with anyone’s number with how big and precious his eyes were, he looked like a friggin’ Disney prince.
Taking a glance at his watch, his once cheerful expression soured.
“It's perfectly fine. I volunteer here, so I have nowhere to be right now.
Besides, I'm waiting for this bloody YA author to show.
There's this event we're organizing downstairs that I'm thinking about canceling. I’d hate to disappoint the thirty odd some girls who were excited to meet an author whose book hasn't even released yet.
Between you and me, it's always the YA authors who are all diva-like and entitled.
I just wish I could have gotten the heads up or something.
It'll be a bummer to let the girls down.” Wait, so he was fine and a librarian.
Geez, what a cliché. I winced at what I had to admit next.
“Well, it's a good thing you don't have to disappoint them. This just in! Your friendly neighborhood, entitled YA author.” I ended in a bow, watching the color in his face drain.
I omitted the diva bit, but in retrospect, I likely deserved it.
Before he could open his mouth to apologize, the door to the bathroom swung open, the person inside ushering me in.
Awkwardly stepping inside, I poked my head out for clarity on where to be next.
“Oh, and just so I don't waste any more time, if you could just point me in the direction I should be headed in, in two minutes flat, I'm there.”