Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
“Who?”
“Cordelia Sarantopoulos. Cynthia Lear.”
“Oh.” Essie actually pauses to glance in the general direction of Cordelia. “Oh, yeah. Her. Ya know what? I think I need to speak to her. One sec.”
She begins to walk off, but I grab her arm real fast and tug her back. “What do you mean you need to speak to her? About what?”
Essie starts peeling my fingers off her arm. “About her panel, Steve. Why are you being so weird? Let go of me.”
I release my sister and then follow her over towards Cordelia and Britney. “Cynthia!” Essie is waving at Cordelia, trying to get her attention. “Hey, Cynthia! Can I have a moment?”
I watch, breathless, as Cordelia searches for the source of the call. Then, like magic—like we’re in a slow-motion crisis scene of a historical romance—Cordelia’s eyes lock with mine.
And then they narrow.
I pause the imagined scene in my head—like… mid-gallop, because I’m on a white steed, obviously—and take a moment to try and decipher that look.
What is she thinking?
I’m not sure. I mean, if I were her, and I had just had the best non-first date of my entire life, I would have a sort of… dreamy look. But her expression isn’t conjuring up the word dreamy. It’s manifesting… loathing?
No. I’m reading that wrong. I don’t know her that well, so this is OK. Signals are getting crossed, but it will soon be sorted with a bit of conversation. Perhaps she thinks I left too abruptly this morning? Perhaps she couldn’t find her Skinny Laminx? I accidentally ripped them while I was tugging them down her legs last night, so I just tossed them in the trash. However, if she insists, I will replace them. I’d just like to point out that they’re not necessary when we have that talk.
“Hey, Brit!” Essie is perky and happy when we come up on my dear Cordelia. “Hi, Cynthia. I just wanted to touch base with you about the panels.”
I’m smiling big at Cordy. I flash a little finger wave. I consider waggling the eyebrows, but I just used that expression on my sister, so I can’t use it again for at least four more hours. I know real life isn’t a romance book, but I have a thing about using the same adjective or expression description too many times in the same chapter. Eyebrow waggles are to be used sparingly, kind of like italics. So I settle for a wide grin. “Hi, Cordy.” I want to point out that even though we’ve only been apart for about an hour and a half, I miss her already. But I don’t want to say that in front of Essie and Britney, so I delete that and save it for later.
Cordelia looks confused. For a moment I wonder if she was too tipsy last night to remember all the details, but she’s looking at Essie, not me. “Panel?”
“Yes. Your panel. I’m sure you’re totally on top of this, but I didn’t get a response back to the panel assignment email, so I just wanted to make double-double sure that you knew.” Essie pauses.
Cordelia is confused. Which means she didn’t know.
Britney interrupts. “Oh. Fuck. I’m sorry.” She turns to Cordelia. “I must’ve missed the email. But it’s OK. I mean, it’s great, right?”
Cordelia doesn’t appear to think this is great. “I have to be on a panel?”
“Oh.” Essie is worried now. “I’m sorry. Well, no, of course not. If you’re not comfortable, of course not. I know some authors hate the spotlight.” I wait for her to look at me when she says this—and if she does, we will have a classic brother-sister throwdown—but she catches herself just in time. “Yeah. Some of them hate it. So I completely understand if you don’t—”
“She does,” Britney interrupts. “Want to be on the panel, I mean.” Britney nudges Cordelia. “Don’t you, Cordelia? It’s your big opportunity. You’re here to make the most of it.” Cordelia doesn’t agree or disagree, so Britney continues. “Which panel is it?”
“Reader Rants. I gotta warn you, it’s a lively one. You address readers’ biggest gripes about the stuff they read in books. It’s gonna be packed. But don’t worry. Winter Page, Audrey Saint, Raven Lark, Mercy Rose, and Eden Le Fay are all on it with you. So it should be fine.”
“Wow.” Cordelia looks panicked. “Those are some big names.”
“The biggest.” Essie beams. “It’ll be great, I promise. If you want to do it. But again, no pressure. I just need to know in the next five minutes so I can run over there and let them know you can’t make it so they don’t announce you by mistake.”
My eyeballs are doing a little tennis-game back and forth as this conversation happens. But now everyone’s eyes land on Cordelia.
She nods her head. “Yeah. OK. I can do this.”