I gripped her hand where it lay on the table, “I’m sorry. Let me know how I can help. If you need a break, a place to stay, my couch is yours.”
Her raised brow said it all. “Couch? Don’t I warrant your bed?”
I smiled. “You don’t fool me. I know you snore. I’d never get any rest sharing a bed with you.”
She swatted my hand. “You know I use an apnea machine for that now. I’m quiet as a mouse. Besides, I’d kick you out to the couch.”
“There’s the sisterly love I remember so fondly.”
Our server arrived with our meals, and we dug into lunch. I wasn’t sure if it was stress eating or feigned indifference, but Jennifer consumed most of her burger with gusto. I picked at mine, thinking that it wasn’t as good as the recipe I’d tried from Virginia Rothman. I snorted to myself, Virginia. Sure, that was my problem.
Vanessa must have noticed my lack of appetite. “How are things going with Chase? Are you getting serious?”
Both sisters waited on my response. I didn’t want to admit I’d given up on a romantic relationship with Chase. I played with a fry for a moment, dragging it through my ketchup. “We parted ways. He was only helping me out for that one night.”
Jennifer couldn’t contain her snort. “Is that what they’re calling it now? I could use a little one-night help, though obviously, not with someone who has ‘helped’ you out. That would be gross.”
I deadpanned, “Yes, that’s the part of that statement that was disturbing. You know you sound beyond sanctimonious right now, right?”
Vanessa could see the signs of trouble ahead. “Hey, hey, now. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sorry to hear that it didn’t work out with Chase. He seemed nice, and it’s not everyone who’d attend a family wedding as a plus-one. I thought you told Mom and Dad you’d been dating for months?” Her brow raised. “That surprised me, because I figured I would have heard of him before, or you know, met him.”
I smiled weakly at her but didn’t comment right away. She nudged me and gave me her best mom-face of disapproval, and I relented.
“Chase is a friend who agreed to help me run interference during the wedding. I haven’t known him six months, that’s just what he told the folks.”
“That was a friend? I’d hate to see what you get up to on a real date.”
Typical Jennifer. Vanessa’s eyes were sympathetic as they met mine.
“I’m sorry that things didn’t work out. He seemed nice, if quirky, but you were hitting it off. I know it’s difficult for you to meet men with your work schedule.”
I glanced back down at my plate. “Yeah, well it turns out he wasn’t as into me as I was into him. He stood me up for our next date.”
“That jerk. I’m sorry, sis.”
Jennifer frowned like she was going to unleash her own opinion again, but I suspected Vanessa kicked her, because Jennifer scowled at her and started rubbing her leg beneath the table.
“Yeah, I’m sorry too. It’s never fun when the assholes disappoint you.”
Her words were more conciliatory than I’d heard in years. Maybe knowing that I had my own relationship troubles soothed her ego.
Lunch wrapped up, and I was glad that Jennifer and I had more-or-less moved past our differences. For the moment. Vanessa’s goodbye hug was rib-crushing tight, while Jennifer’s was the hug equivalent of a lukewarm handshake, but I’d take it. I could only handle being at odds with one person in my life at a time. Though granted, Chase wasn’t in my life anymore.
Chapter 27 - Chase
I put the final touches on my edit and hit save with a flourish. It felt amazing to set up my latest book for pre-orders. Not just the sense of accomplishment, but also the closure and satisfaction of having drafted the book on a more defined schedule.
It’d been a stretch at first, tracking my working hours and setting alarms, but I’d eventually hit a rhythm that helped me balance work and my personal life. Before game night I texted Jimmy not to bring pizza, and when Jimmy and Matteo arrived, I surprised them with a meal I cooked. My apartment was clean, I was showered, and the food was hot. Jimmy gave me a knowing look, while Matteo said bluntly, “Who are you, and what have you done with my buddy Chase? Are you okay? Are you ill or something? Do you have bad news to break?”
I popped the top off a few beers without comment. Handing one to each of the men, I admitted, “Actually, I have a confession. Jimmy already knows, and I want you to know too. My career has moved beyond editing. Most of my income actually comes from writing now.”
“Hey man, that’s great. Have I read anything you’ve written?”
“Maybe? Do you read a lot of romance?” I tried not to give away that his answer mattered, but this was my trial run for bigger revelations.
He wrinkled his nose. “No, not really. My wife does. Occasionally she’ll read me the funny bits.” His smile turned mischievous. I could practically hear the gears turning.
“Just the funny bits.” I let skepticism drip from every word.
He shuffled. “Yeah, and other things that catch her interest. What’s your author name?”
I took a deep breath before answering.
“Virginia Rothman.”
There was no turning back now...
“No way. My wife loves your books. Why would you hold that back?” He smacked my chest with the back of his hand. “Didn’t you think we’d be happy for you? Just because I’m not much of a reader, doesn’t mean I can’t read.”
I tensed at the hint of accusation and hurt in his voice. I’d earned that. Unsure how to respond, I shrugged. Scripting this conversation would have been a brilliant move. I’d expected more scoffing from Matteo than support. I should have predicted he’d be hurt.
“I’m sorry. I should have been honest with you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“By the time we roomed together in college, I’d learned to hide my habit. I still have flashbacks to from the teasing I got in high school for reading romance, but I shouldn’t have let that hold me back from telling you.”
“I’m sorry, Chase. As a teen, I admit I would have been one of the assholes. But we’re adults. And your closest friends. Right?”
I nodded and let out the breath I’d been holding. That hadn’t been so bad. “Right. And thanks. I’ve been nervous about telling anyone.”
Matteo’s nod was subdued as he acknowledged my words. “I’m sorry for not telling you earlier,” I apologized again.
Jimmy finally chimed in. “So, is tonight’s feast courtesy of the new Chase? How’s the work/life management going?”
I smiled, but it was weak. “Yeah. I’m proud of myself. I’ve been doing a better job separation my business from my personal life.” I walked him through my whiteboard and schedule.
“I’m impressed,” he insisted. “I wasn’t sure if you could do this, but it looks like you’ve stuck to it for what, a few weeks now?” I nodded. “Has it helped with the Win Back Tamra: The Apology and Change Tour?”
I stared at him, baffled that he knew the name. Jimmy took in my baffled expressed and gestured at the white board. “Chase. It’s written on your whiteboard. You know, the one you just finished showing us?”
Matteo snickered.
I’d forgotten that I’d retitled my writing board. I sighed. “Still no word from her. She asked me to stop sending her things, and I respected her wishes.”
“Does she know about the book?” he asked.
I shook my head. “If she still follows me on social media, she’ll know about it soon, but I don’t know if she’ll read it.”
Matteo watched us, his confusion apparent in his wrinkled brow. “Wait, what? Chase has a girlfriend? How did I miss that?”
“Less has and more like had,” I admitted. “For like, one night if I’m honest. I’m trying to turn our relationship into something longer-lasting, but it’s not going well.”
He slapped me on the back but must have sensed I didn’t w
ant to discuss it further. We went on to eat dinner and play. For a while, I wasn’t thinking about Tamra. Matteo had surprised me with how accepting he was of my writing career. It gave me an extra confidence boost; maybe writing as myself wasn’t the issue I thought it’d be. Tamra had accepted me as a writer. Maybe my readers would too.
BEFORE RELEASING The Wedding Date, I wanted to be more honest with my readers about my identity. No more keeping secrets. I was proud of my work, and I could weather the rejection that came with disappointing fans. When I started my career as a male author, I worried I’d have trouble getting traction in a genre whose main readers were female. Readers were understandably wary of the male lens after too many books advertised as romance that highlighted suffering instead of hope and happiness.
My faith in my readers was stronger after revealing myself to Tamra and Matteo. Seeing my pen name persona through Tamra’s eyes and the betrayal when she learned I was a guy made me realize that I needed to be myself. My pen name wouldn’t change, but I wanted to share more of my true self with my dedicated readers, updating my author bio and avatars with a picture for transparency.
My phone buzzed with an incoming call as I was putting the final touches on my big reveal. I let out a breath at the name on caller ID.
“Hey, Mom. How are you and Dad?” I asked.
“We’re both good, but I hadn’t heard from you in a while. Everything okay?”
I bit my lip. Whining about my love life to my mother might not be my best move. But warning her and Dad about my upcoming identity reveal was only fair. Even if I didn’t use my full name, some of her friends might connect the dots.
“Yes, everything’s fine. I’ve just been busy with work. But that reminds me, I wanted to give you and Dad a heads up.”
She paused, and I pictured her eyebrows arching above her glasses. She knew to wait me out.
I sighed. “I’m going to reveal my identity to my readers.”
“What brought this on?”
She and my dad had urged me to be more open from the beginning about my pen name, so her surprise was warranted.
I cleared my throat. “A friend convinced me it was time.”
Friend. Or woman of my dreams. Close enough. My mom probably wouldn’t be fooled.
“A friend, huh? Will your father and I get to meet this friend sometime soon?”
I shifted uncomfortably. The gentle prodding left me swallowing my disappointment. My parents would love Tamra. I took a deep breath. Letting myself get rattled and awkwardly trying to change the subject wouldn’t fool her.
“I think she’s moved on,” I said quietly.
Her tone softened at my obvious dismay. “I’m sorry to hear that. What are your plans for the big reveal?”
My shoulders relaxed as I outlined how I had planned to orchestrate my own possible professional demise, then to her plans to travel to Hawaii with my dad. As much as my life had changed since meeting Tamra, my parents remained comfortingly the same. Steadfast and supportive.
After her shot of encouragement, I prepared and scheduled my next newsletter, including a photo of myself holding an early copy of The Wedding Date with the following letter.
Dear Reader,
I hope you’ll join me in celebrating the release of my latest romance, The Wedding Date. Writing romance brings me joy, and I hope I’ve shared that exhilaration with you. I try to write about people finding love and happiness by accepting their true selves. Recently, I met a woman who convinced me that I needed to drop anonymity and embrace openness in my own life. Today I stop hiding behind my pen name.
As you’re aware, writing in our genre is fraught with challenges. My romance origin story starts with stealing my parents’ books and evolved into openly reading what I loved. The backlash with my male peers in high school was severe, and it took years to shake off the nicknames and teasing. But it’s no excuse for not being brave enough to be myself. I want to fight for your happily-ever-after, and revealing my identity is part of fighting for my own.
I’ve generally led a life of (male) privilege and writing as Virginia Rothman gave me a window into a whole other world of trolling and misogyny. It’s also welcomed me into the incredible community of Romancelandia that fights for love and acceptance. (We know how to bring the knives.)
Thank you to all who have read me faithfully these last ten years. I hope you will forgive the deception and still enjoy my work.
To the special woman in my life, this book’s dedicated to you. Thank you for inspiring me and for helping me see a different, better life ... I still hope I can make my mistakes up to you.
Sincerely,
Chase Hoffman, AKA Virginia Rothman
Penance and groveling were mainstays in romance, and no one could say I didn’t try to embrace them. I apologized and updated my avatars and bio online, then I practiced the fine art of shutting up. Reactions to my newsletter were mixed, but I ate crow like the finest cuisine for a few days before sending myself on social media hiatus. Emails of support were easy to respond to, but a few readers were predictably angry, and I did my best to apologize with grace.
Backlash on Twitter was harsh, as was the dip in sales. A few fans were supportive, but none were Tamra. I had no contact at all from her.
For the next few days of fallout, I worked out with Jimmy like a fiend, avoiding social media. Sleep eluded me, as I replayed reader reactions over and over. The worst were the few people who knew me personally. Matteo and Jimmy were in on my secret, but a handful of other casual friends from high school and college were hurt by my revelation. One woman I dated in the past came out of the woodwork to lambaste my romantic failures in light of my supposed expertise. Staying focused on work was a struggle, but my new schedule helped me remain disciplined.
So yeah, reactions to my revelation were pretty much everything I’d feared. But it was worth it. No more hiding. My flaws were on full display.
A week later, the furor moved on to the next idiot who’d flashed their ass online, and I stepped back into social media actively with recipe posts. Luckily, it’s hard to hate on a man in the kitchen.
I had no way of knowing if Tamra even saw my letter. I guessed she hit unsubscribe to the newsletter when she cut all other ties with me, but I was too chickenshit to check. I hoped that somehow, someway, she’d see my apology and recognize my sincerity.
Chapter 28 - Tamra
I resisted pre-ordering Chase’s new book. My finger only hovered over the one-click button a time or ten. I’d probably yield to temptation when some of the sting of his rejection had passed. I could never resist a Virginia Rothman title.
It was much harder to ignore the minor furor over his identity. The Twitterverse was lit with #RomancelandiaManspread and #FakingItRomanceStyle for a few days. Comments raged fiercely, some applauding his decision to come forward and others roasting him as a fake. I stayed out of the threads. I was too close to the subject to wade in, and commenting on controversial topics didn’t appeal. Snipers were sure to take me out from on high. My newfound confidence was still too fragile to engage in high-stakes conversations.
Dance class gave me an outlet that eased some of my frustration and rebuilt my confidence. Becca and my other classmates cheered on every new skill, and gaining strength and learning new spins gave me something to look forward to.
Eva’s support after Chase stood me up led me to invite her to coffee as a thank you. Setting aside my preconceived ideas about her life and really listening helped me realize that I wasn’t the only one feeling lonely.
I’d even tried dating again, to limited success. Matt, the guy I’d met while waiting for Gina and Vicki at the bar had called. The conversation was good enough that when he asked me out, I said yes. We spent a mildly uncomfortable evening in each other’s company. He didn’t balk too obviously when he asked me about work, and I provided epic levels of detail about the latest delivery I’d assisted with. We parted on friendly terms, but he didn’t ask to see me again, a
nd I wasn’t disappointed.
He wasn’t Chase. Not that I wanted Chase, but I wanted someone who made me feel like Chase had. Special. Interesting. My lips twisted. At least when Chase could focus on something other than writing. No more competing for time and attention. I didn’t need a bumper sticker on the back of the Shaw family minivan to prove I existed. That I mattered. The old gray van with its dusty stickers for each of my siblings’ hobbies and academic achievements had been consigned to the used car lot long ago, and with it, I needed to let that shit go. Pretty sure they didn’t make “Proud Parent of an Introvert” stickers. Not sticking with anything long enough for my own sticker hadn’t held me back in life.
Then again, maybe I should invest in a pole aerialist decal or nursing quote for my own car. A lot had changed in my life and career since I’d lived at home. If I wasn’t enough to keep Chase’s attention, that was on him. Not me.
The night after my lackluster date, I was wrapping up a busy shift with Gina when we were graced by an unusual visitor. A tall, handsome man wearing a firefighter’s uniform approached our desk. His angular jaw and short, dark brown hair over whiskey eyes were so potent that females in his vicinity probably spontaneously ovulated when he strode by. His walk was slow but purposeful, and the absurd thought ran through my head that someone had scheduled a strippergram, until I realized that he was carrying a book instead of a more fireman-worthy prop. He approached the desk where Gina and I were filling out paperwork and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, are you Tamra Shaw?”
I gave Gina a quick side glance. “Yes,” I responded hesitantly. Who did I know that would send me a stripper? Gina gave me round, innocent eyes, and she was the only person I could think of. If he was a stripper, he needed to go back to firefighting because he looked severely uncomfortable.
He stuck out his big hand, engulfing my own when I accepted the contact. “I’m Jimmy Torres. One of Chase’s friends.”
Mister Romance Page 21
