She nodded, massaging the back of her neck. "It really was. Did you see how excited they seemed to be eating lunch with you? I'm sure they've met plenty of famous people, but to them you were the shit. I mean, your books are good and all, but you're no Theo James."
I would have offered an appropriate comeback, but I had to agree with her. Besides, I was too tired to put that much effort into it. "Don't be an asswipe." I crawled onto the bed and dragged a pillow to my chest. My eyes felt heavy and I would do anything to be able to close them, even for a few minutes."What time is the signing?" I asked, hoping she'd tell me I had the days mixed up.
She looked at the clock on the nightstand table. "At six."
Too tired to flip over to check the time, I dragged my cell phone out of my pocket. It was already a quarter past four and the signing was at a small indie bookstore in SoHo, which meant I should be getting ready.
"Can you pretend to be me?" I joked, yawning again.
"I don't have the boobs to pull it off. Just think though, after this you'll have a little down time," she said, looking over my agenda on her phone. "The only thing you have tomorrow is dinner with Remi, Jillian, and the three other authors who will be on the Love Bus. We do have a little maintenance work to do in the morning. Just last-minute things to make sure you're ready for release day."
I sat up, grinning. I wasn't sure how the publisher's PR team would feel about Olivia's nickname for the tour bus, but it made me smile every time she said it. The Love Bug was Tony's favorite movie when he was younger, and I'd made the mistake of divulging that information to Olivia in a moment of weakness. Tony was going to kill me when he found out I had blabbed. It wasn't even a question of if, but when he found out. Olivia had already changed his contact info in my phone to Herbie after I mentioned that Tony would only answer to that name when he was seven.
"Should we send Herbie a picture of you and me with the Love Bus before you leave on Saturday?" she asked on cue, like she could read my thoughts.
"Shut it. Did I mention Tony hates it when we remind him about his Herbie fascination?"
"Even better," she said, gleefully rubbing her hands together.
"I think Satan is missing his significant other back in hell."
"I already told the old bag of flames that absence makes the heart grow fonder. He has his demons to keep him entertained while I'm away."
I shook my head. Olivia was definitely going to hell and would probably drag me with her. Knowing I couldn't procrastinate any longer, I climbed from the bed and headed to the bathroom to get myself together. The signing at the indie bookstore was tiny in comparison to the large shows I'd done during the last six months, and it was also the first time I'd be flying solo. I'd be signing early copies of Wicked Lonely, which would be releasing in two days. My worst fear was that no one would show up and I'd be sitting there staring at Olivia, Greg, and a few employees. That would be beyond embarrassing.
Greg reassured me the place was a small hole in the wall that would look crowded with even five
people inside. I was banking on that.
An hour later, Olivia and I met Greg in the lobby. I'd already decided I wouldn't be able to eat anything until after the signing. Depending on how it went, I could be drowning my sorrows in a vat of chocolate afterward.
Traffic on the way to the store was typical New York busy, but I'd come to realize Greg handled it as expertly as a race car driver. He darted and maneuvered around vehicles and obstacles like a professional. It still didn't mean I didn't have to hold on for dear life the entire time. I was just starting to get used to it. Olivia learned early on to keep her distance after my fingers left bruises on her leg the first time she rode with us.
"Hey, look at that," Greg said, interrupting Olivia and me as we were reviewing my schedule for the following week. He drove slowly past the small store where a sizable line had formed outside. It took me a moment to register what I was seeing. If not for the sign hanging over the door shaped like an old clock that read Book Time, I wouldn't have believed we were at the right location. Maybe there was a signing before mine. That could be the only explanation.
Olivia bounced on the seat, thinking the line had something to do with me. I wanted to set her straight, but I caught sight of a group of women in the line clutching copies of my first series.
Greg made a sharp right turn, pulling into a narrow alley behind the building. "The owner told me to park around back," he said, stopping beside an ordinary-looking door that could have belonged to any store, but to me now held a certain sense of magical appeal. A feeling of euphoria bubbled inside me, pulsating with a life of its own. I had already made an appearance on national television and yet, I felt like my life was about to change.
Olivia reached over and gripped my hand. I could tell by the way her eyes were shining that she could feel it too. "Are you ready for this?"
I nodded my head followed by a quick shake instead. I wished Alec was here. He was such a large part of the success I was suddenly having. I missed him acutely at that moment.
Olivia startled me by nudging my arm to slide out of the vehicle. I came into focus, realizing Greg was holding the door open for me. "Piece of cake," he said warmly.
He reached out a hand to help me climb from the vehicle. "Did you pay all those people to wait in line for me?"
"They're the ones who paid—by buying your books. Go give them what they want." He smiled widely, putting my mind at ease. "I've been instructed by Remi to get a lot of pictures. Tonight is your night. Enjoy it."
Olivia nodded in agreement, shouldering my bag with hers. "Let's not keep your readers waiting, Talent."
"Oh my god. Greg called me that too at the airport. Did you guys rehearse that or something?"
Before she could answer, the manager opened the back door of the store as I rounded the vehicle. "Ms. Blake, it's a pleasure to have you here," she said, shaking my hand enthusiastically. "I'm Patricia—owner, manager, and everything in between of Book Time. I can't tell you how excited your readers and I are to have you here today. They've been lined up for hours."
"Hours?" I squawked, not quite believing her words.
"Hours," she repeated. "Even in the cold. They're a hearty bunch. We passed out hot chocolate an hour ago, but we haven't heard a single complaint. They're so excited to meet you." She led us through a tiny stockroom crowded with boxes and shelves of overflow books.