Fauxmance (Showmance #2)(66)
I noticed Julian frowning at Daniel’s hand, where it rested on my shoulder a little longer than necessary. My agent was totally oblivious, but my stomach still flipped at the possessiveness radiating from Julian.
“Okay, I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes. There’s a coffee machine in the corner, so help yourselves.” Daniel gave me a kind parting smile and then he left.
Julian sat down on an office swivel chair. “Your agent has a crush on you. I’d think it was cute if it didn’t make me so jealous.”
I screwed up my face. “You’re imagining things. He thinks I’m a weirdo since I’ve turned up looking nothing like the woman he originally met.” The idea of him being jealous sent a flutter through me.
“Ellen, I know a crush when I see one. And Daniel’s definitely got one,” Julian replied, swinging around on the chair, deceptively casual.
I ignored him and went to make coffee, hoping the caffeine might pep me up a little. When I moved to walk by him, he caught my wrist, rubbing his thumb along the delicate inside. “Ignore me. I’m being an idiot.”
“It’s fine. I’m just…”
“Nervous?”
I exhaled. “Yes.”
“You’ve got this, Ellen, and I’ve got you, I promise. I’ve had you to myself these past few weeks, and now I’ll be sharing you with the five hundred people out there. It’s bringing out my selfish streak.”
My heart thrummed. There was so much I wanted to say, but it all got stuck in my throat. “Thank you for being here. And for everything.”
Our gazes held a moment before there was a knock on the door. One of the store workers ducked her head in. She wore a green polo shirt and a name tag that read ‘Michelle’. She also held a copy of Good Girl, Bad Lady to her chest. She looked from me to Julian shyly, finally deciding that I was the author. Julian definitely didn’t look like someone who spent the majority of his time weaving tales on a laptop, though maybe it was just my glasses. There was no correlation, but they always made a person look more bookish.
“Sorry for barging in, I was just wondering if I could get you to sign my book before the event starts.”
I stared at her, wide-eyed, opened my mouth, shut it again. I’d never met a fan before, so this was all new. I wasn’t sure who was more nervous, her or me. Finally, Julian came to the rescue. He stood and took the book from her. “E.S. would be more than happy to sign your book.” His gaze lowered to her name tag. “Would you like her to make it out to you, Michelle?”
She smiled gratefully. “Yes, please.”
Julian flicked to the title page, picked a pen up off the desk and handed me the book. “Sign away.”
My hand shook as I pressed the pen to paper. When I was done signing, I forced myself to walk across the room and hand it back to her. “There you go. It was l-lovely to meet you, Michelle.”
She flushed bright pink. “And you! Thank you. Thank you so much.”
With that, she scurried out and I looked back to Julian. His expression was smug. “Now, was that so bad? Were you struck down by the Gods?”
I shoved him in the shoulder. “Fine. You were right. Again.”
Twenty minutes later, the bookshop was full, everybody waiting in the large event area for me to come out. I tucked my hair behind my ear while Julian took my hand and gave it a firm squeeze, then pulled me to him. He hugged me tightly as he whispered in my ear, “Remember, everyone out there adores you, and so do I.”
We broke apart and I sent him a look of gratitude. He had no idea that five hundred people adoring me mattered much less than him adoring me. I was so lost to him now, trying to turn back was futile. And I really couldn’t have done any of this without him.
I mustered all the calm I had in me, running the speech I’d prepared through my head as the bookshop manager made the introduction. I spotted Daniel across the way; he smiled encouragingly and gave me two thumbs up.
“We’re honoured and thrilled to have her with us here today and to be hosting her very first public appearance. Without further ado, I give you E.S. Grant.”
The crowd erupted with excited applause. A lump formed in my throat, my palms dripping with sweat. Julian leaned close to murmur, “It might help if you imagine them all naked.”
An involuntary chuckle escaped me, the humour exactly what I needed right then. He kissed my cheek and ushered me forward. “Go on, knock ‘em dead, tiger.”
I laughed again, shaking my head as I inhaled a deep breath and turned to face the audience. I could do this. These people read my books. They’d come here to see me. They were my tribe.
A small measure of calm filled me as I stepped out onto the stage. The clapping grew louder, but it still didn’t drown out the sound of my heart hammering in my ears. Several cameras flashed from the press in front. I blinked, the white light momentarily blinding. Guess there was no turning back now.
An armchair and a small table were set up centre stage, the pages of my excerpt sitting on the table. I flexed my hand, something of a nervous tick, and walked toward the chair. The bookshop manager came and handed me a microphone and I held it to my mouth. My gaze scanned the crowd, hundreds of faces staring back at me; eager, excited, smiling faces.
I opened my mouth to speak, to say hello, thank them for coming, but my voice failed me. Tears sprung in my eyes and my entire body froze. My muscles felt like lead and all I wanted to do was run right off that stage.