Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Cleo: Well?
Actually, the real text has about a million question marks and emojis.
Kate: Updates? News? How is it going?
I decide texting them back isn’t going to help calm them down, so I ignore the texts for now.
I find Nolan helping an author set up his table. I pull him aside.
“You were looking for me?” I say.
“Yeah. Cleo called me and told me what you’re planning. What the fuck, man?” He punches me in the chest, but he’s smiling. “Really?”
I shrug. “My sisters really suck at keeping secrets.”
“You’re not supposed to have secrets with me.”
“The truth is I’m nervous as hell, man. What if she says no?”
He laughs. “Charli loves you. You see the way she looks at you, right? It’s honestly nauseating.”
I take a deep breath. “Well, I don’t exactly have you to thank for our thriving relationship, do I?”
He bites back a smile. “Come on. You were the dumbass for telling me first and not going straight to her. You had to know I was going to pull something like that.”
I grin. We’ve given each other a hard time about our fight so many times that all the sharp edges have smoothed over. Now it just feels like something to laugh about. “Yeah, I should know my best friend is an asshole.”
“See? Now you get it.”
“This is exactly why you lost the privilege of being in on the secret, by the way. You clearly can’t be trusted with them.”
“You do have a point,” he admits. “Well, why are you over here talking to me? Go be with your girl.”
“Because you asked to talk to me, dumbass.” I give him a shove and he smiles.
He pulls me in for a quick hug and pats my back. “You’ve got this, Jameson. I’m happy for you. Seriously.”
I give his back a hard pat and pull away. I raise a two fingered salute, then go back to Charli’s booth.
I’ve got about ten minutes before I need to make an excuse to slip away from her, get on my phone, and make about ten phone calls to coordinate.
32
EPILOGUE - CHARLI
The doors have finally opened and people are crowding the convention. Just like Jameson predicted, I have a huge line at my booth. I barely have time to savor how awesome this is because I’m constantly talking, signing, and posing for pictures. It feels surreal.
Just last year, I was at this same convention hoping against hope to get my book noticed by a publisher. My wildest dreams involved an advance that might help me feel less stressed about money for a few months and maybe a decently successful launch.
The book launch has gone so far beyond any of that.
I’ve obviously seen the numbers. I know thousands and thousands of people are reading it, but so far, those have just been numbers on a computer screen to me. They’ve been emails and messages on social media. This is different.
These are real people. Real faces and stories and words. It’s actual people gushing to me about how much they loved the story and the characters. It’s validation more pure than anything I could’ve ever hoped for.
I’m also halfway through the next book, and I haven’t announced it anywhere publicly. I’m having a ton of fun dropping that little nugget to excited fans and watching them squeal. After only an hour or so of running the booth, people are telling me they’ve already heard rumors about the next book, making me wonder how far and fast that information will spread after today.
The only thing that could make this better is if Jameson hadn’t disappeared. He said he had some kind of work emergency, apologized profusely, and rushed off.
After about two hours, I’m starting to really miss him. I apologize to a nice old woman who is next in line while I send him a quick text asking if he’ll be back soon and bragging about how huge the line is for my booth.
Jameson: I’m very aware of how long this line is. I should have brought water or something. See me?
I frown in confusion, then look up and lean a little, trying to scan the crowd of people in front of me. That’s when I see him a little ways back in the line. He’s towering over the group and smiling, waving with a copy of my book in his hands. He points at it and flashes a big, cheesy smile.
My heart melts. It’s silly and kind of pointless, but it’s such a sweet gesture for him to get in my line and want me to sign a copy of my book for him. I really do love him.
I’m admittedly distracted as I interact with the next few fans before Jameson’s turn.
It feels like an eternity before he finally steps up to my booth and sets the book down. “I’m a big fan.”