Chapter 2 #2
“I know about the contest,” he cut in, waving off a pair of security guards I hadn’t even noticed approaching.
“Well, I missed the deadline.”
“You did,” he said flatly, like he was confirming gravity.
“And it wasn’t my fault.”
“It really wasn’t,” Otis added, offering a sheepish smile.
“Look. I’ve worked hard for this. I just need a word with her.
” I stepped closer, until my legs bumped the table.
John Kater watched me watching him. No flicker of recognition.
Probably for the best. Still, his stare was unnerving.
He was taller than I remembered. His face nearly level with mine—and I was standing. In platform combat boots, no less.
The way he kept looking at me was starting to seriously tick me off.
“So, when will she be back?” I asked, mostly to break the weird tension.
“Not sure.” He inhaled, his shirt pulling taut across his chest, then folded his hands on the table and leaned in. I caught the faintest whiff of cologne.
“Shoot.”
The word landed so fast I thought I’d imagined it.
“What?”
I caught Otis’s wide eyes.
“Give me the pitch of your project. If I like it, I’ll make her read it.”
I could swear there was amusement behind his collected facade.
“Like you have a say.” I raised a brow.
Otis gasped. Again.
John’s jaw twitched like he was fighting a smile. “You’re lucky you got me, not her. She’d send you off running.”
I placed the manuscript on the table in front of him. The edges were bent, the pages slightly wrinkled. My hands retreated into the deep comfort of my fluffy leopard coat. My heart was thudding like mad. This pompous ass. But what choice did I have?
I looked past him, hoping Emily would magically return and rescue me from this humiliating moment. But no. She really wasn’t coming back.
This might be my only chance.
“Fine.”
Someone behind me groaned. I flipped them off without turning.
I closed my eyes. Took a breath. And rattled off the elevator pitch I’d practiced in the shower.
“Captain Caruso has been everywhere in the universe. Everywhere except Earth. When an intergalactic storm wipes everyone’s memories on the blue planet, chaos and the collapse of civilization follow.
The world is on the brink of extinction.
Then the crew of the HMS Samurai arrives on this alien world—Earth—and discovers the key to humanity’s survival: a boy who could either end it all or begin a whole new era. ”
I paused. Peered at him through one barely open eye. My stupid hands trembled in my pockets.
John was staring at me. Seemingly trying to inspect the back of my skull. The brain inside the woman who had the audacity to not fall over herself swooning.
“Alright.” He picked up the manuscript, laying it onto a pile of notes beside signed author photos and artwork from his book.
I glanced at Otis, who grimaced and gave me a helpless shrug.
“Alright?” I echoed, pulling my hands free. “You’ll give it to her?”
He nodded. “Good concept.” John scribbled something into a book, closed it, then handed it to me. I took it after a moment’s hesitation.
“I didn’t pay for a signed copy,” I said, eyes still locked on his.
“On the house.” He winked. A wink that could be considered charming. Not by me though. Never.
The angry vampire behind me instantly mellowed as he stepped into my place.
I could swear John was still watching me as we walked away, like a tight, burning thread was strung between my shoulder blades.
Otis balled his hand into a fist and shoved it in his mouth like he was physically restraining himself from screaming.
An hour passed. Still no Emily.
But John Kater? He was on a break. And he had my book in his hands.
He—John Kater—was holding my book. And reading it.
For the second time in my life, John Kater was reading something I had written. With his intense, very John-Kater eyes. I thought I might pass out.
I watched him like an absolute lunatic, half-crouched behind a cardboard Star Trek pop-up.
“He turned another page,” Otis whispered with a shriek.
I slapped his arm to shut him up.
“Was that a laugh? Did he just laugh?” Otis asked, eyes wide.
“I think so. I saw teeth, so... maybe. Wait. Do you think he laughed because it was funny, or because it was bad?”
“Mhh,” Otis murmured, shrugging. “Maybe a bit of both?”
I slapped him again.
“Ow! That one actually hurt.” Otis rubbed his arm dramatically. “Still, he’s got a nice smile.”
I shot him a look.
“I know, I know,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “We hate him. For... reasons. But I can’t deny my eyeballs the pleasure.”
I craned my neck to see the panel more clearly. To my horror, John caught me staring. I ducked away as fast as I could.
“Shit, did he see me lurking?” I asked, my voice muffled through the palms I hid my face behind.
“Not sure,” Otis said, peeking over a life-sized Spock cutout. “But he is definitely laughing now.”
“At the manuscript?”
Otis gave me a pitying look. “No, he put it down. I think he’s leaving.”
I rose onto my tiptoes. Just as the panel came into view, John’s shadow disappeared behind a door.
My heart sank as I saw my manuscript still sitting on the table—discarded.
I groaned. Of course. What did I expect?
Why would Mr. I-Am-Too-Amazing care? Maybe I could send it straight to his manager.
Maybe I could make up some emergency. Dead puppy it is.
“It was a long shot, hon,” Otis said, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “Let me buy you a frozen margarita. Jessie’s on bar duty tonight.”
“Make that two. We gotta celebrate your breakthrough theater career.” I forced a smile.
“Maybe a little premature. I haven’t even auditioned yet,” Otis said but added a little extra strut to his step.
“We both know Tim Curry’s got nothing on you.” I leaned my head on his shoulder.
Otis put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. Pretty sure saying that will get you banned from musical theatre for life.” He pulled me closer. “But let’s say I’m a very close second.”
I sighed, trying to blow away the disappointment clawing at my gut. At least the idea of being at Garland’s, watching Otis flirt with the entire gay population of Middleton, might delay my existential crisis for another hour or two.
We passed rows of booths filled with action figures and graphic novels. I paused to scan the covers of books with half-naked heroines slaying dragons and musclebound guys flying spaceships. There was a gap between Sanderson and Tanner. Just enough space for Nora Rose Skye.
As we pushed through the exit and the crisp autumn air greeted us, my pocket buzzed.
Otis unlocked the car. I pulled out my phone, grateful he’d topped up my data before we left work. The preview of the email notification read:
Confirmation
One moment later, I almost lost my breakfast.
The subject line: Confirmation of Admission.
Underneath: Congratulations, your manuscript has been officially entered. We will announce the writers who made it to the next round in ten working days. A representative of Haller & Mark will contact you—
I barely noticed Otis poking my arm.
“Nora? Did you just have a stroke?”
I reread the message. Then again.
My email had gone through. I’d done it. Who needed John Kater? Not me.
I looked at Otis, the grin spreading on my face impossible to hide. “Make that three margaritas—and a bottle of champagne.”