“Thank you.”
“Relax, honey. I make this flight two or three times a month. We’re in good hands,” the woman said, giving her arm a pat.
Not sure she could explain it if she wanted to, Annie nodded with a forced smile of thanks. Her fingers dug into the armrests, eager to get this show on the road and over. Somehow, she needed to still the knocking of her knees and find the courage to make the world fall in love with her book. No problem for the girl who’d nearly hyperventilated giving her parents’ eulogy in front of friends and family. Why was the written word so much easier than the spoken? The engines whined and they started to taxi. Closing her eyes, she blew out a breath and tried to focus on the positive. When the publicity tour was over, for three hundred and change she could hop on a plane in Michigan and four hours later be in CJ’s arms.
Bare toes curled in the carpet, Annie sprawled in the bottom of her closet wrapped in a ratty polka-dot bathrobe. She couldn’t do this. Clothes and hangers littered the floor around her. Her carefully applied makeup was a soggy mess. Static from the robe’s hood and the carpet made her brown hair stand out from her head like a plasma globe. Everything she’d tried on either made her look fat, frumpy or twelve. She pounded the back of her head on the floor and wiped at the tears. It was definitely blanket fort time.
If she expected anyone to take her seriously she needed to look the part. What in the hell did a sophisticated, successful author wear anyway? She blindly patted the floor beside her. Her phone was here somewhere. Google was her friend. Thumbs tapping out her virtual SOS in the search engine, she scanned the image results and groaned. She was too damn short to pull off the elegant pantsuit and pearls look. Besides, she didn’t own pearls. Sweater sets and gold sparkles were just not her thing. Beige and black were big. Annie rolled her eyes at another picture. Successful or not, she wasn’t showing that much cleavage even to sell a book.
Checking her texts and received calls, her anxiety levels climbed another rung. Still nothing from CJ. She’d sent a text when she touched down in Grand Rapids and tried calling him before her shower. Nothing. She tapped the phone against her lips. Maybe he was up at the lodge. Cell reception there was spotty. From what CJ said, reception was spotty in most of the state. He had to carry a satellite phone when he went out on the job. Why hadn’t she thought to get his home number? It was way too soon to resort to calling the lodge. Talk about looking desperate and clingy. She dropped the phone on her chest. What in the hell was she going to wear to this thing?
The phone rang and Annie snatched it up. It was Finn.
“You better be ready or getting there.”
“I don’t know what to wear,” she said, wincing at the whine in her tone.
“You have seriously got to be kidding me. Do I need to come over there and kick you square in the butt?” her friend asked.
“Probably.”
“You are at least home, right?”
“Unfortunately.”
“What is wrong with you?”
“I don’t think we have enough time for that. It’s a lengthy list.”
Finn gave a growling sigh.
“Do not blow this. I know you’re scared, but this is a big opportunity for you, kiddo. Trust me. This is going to be the book that puts you up there with the big names.”
“Yeah, because the tenth time is the charm,” she muttered.
“I am going to kick you,” Finn said. “Annie, have I ever lied to you, even when you wanted me to?”
“No.”
“And I’m not now. I can’t tell you how much I love this book. Love! You are so close. You’ve always been a gifted writer, but having a big name publisher with their resources behind you has made such a difference. Sales have climbed with each book. Hitting the bestseller list with your last one was huge.”
“I snuck on the bottom of the list for a week, Finn, and they splashed it on the other eight books like I came out of the womb some sort of literary goddess.”
“Go look at any book on your shelf whose author has hit the New York Times list even once. I guarantee that fact is emblazoned on all their covers. That’s marketing. You’re good. Embrace it!”
“I’m trying.”
“Lazing around in your pajamas is not going to get it done this time. This is your party. You’re a writer. Dress codes go out the window for the eccentric artsy types. Pull on some boots, your favorite jeans, a jacket of some kind, and one of those cool scarfs you always wear. Pick something that makes you feel good about yourself. That confidence will bleed through to the rest of the night.”
Annie turned her head to look at her favorite ankle boots. Matching the black suede footwear with jeans the same color made her legs look longer.
“You think that will be okay?”
“It will be fine. Now, stop pouting in the bottom of your closet. Like I told you before, get through the promotional poo-poo, make a ton of money and then you can go back to Wyoming and play with your big game stud.”
“How did you know I was in my closet?”
“Because I know you. Move!”
“What if he doesn’t want to play with me anymore?”
Annie regretted voicing her fears the moment the words popped out of her mouth. The ensuing silence didn’t help. Fresh tears rolled out of the corner of her eyes. When Finn finally spoke her tone was softer than normal.
“Did something actually happen, or is this you being paranoid?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “He told me to let him know when I made it home safe. I sent him a text from the airport and then called him when I got back home, and nothing.”
“How was he when you left?”
“Sweet, wonderful, supportive, but I was a weepy, nauseous mess. He’s probably just now realizing what a bullet he dodged and is out getting a new phone number.”
“Paranoia it is,” Finn said sarcastically. “There are a million possible reasons why he isn’t calling you back. Neither of us has the time for me to run through them. Get up, pull on your big girl panties, and get ready. After you knock the socks off the book world tonight, you can go home, thaw one of those margarita packets and decide if you’re going to cry in your Bacardi or have hot phone sex. But right now, you have worked too damn hard to let delusions, or a man, screw this up for you.”
Wiping away the stupid tears, Annie nodded mutely. CJ had used that same silly sock saying. She swallowed a couple of times and took a steadying breath.
“You’re right. This is my dream. CJ gets that. And if he suddenly doesn’t, then screw him.”
Her heart ached saying the words, but it was the truth. That didn’t stop her from hoping it was one of the million other reasons.
“There’s my girl. Now, I’ll see you at the hotel. Don’t make me come over there.”
Annie didn’t bother to answer the dead air. There was nothing left to say.
CJ stared out the window with unseeing eyes. Why had he let her go? The question had been haunting him since the jet door closed behind her. The fear in Annie’s eyes had been a punch in the gut. As much as she hadn’t wanted to leave, he knew it was more than just the uncertainty of their new relationship. This launch party had her spooked. He frowned, stroking his thumb and forefinger over his chin. The publishing world was foreign territory. He had no idea how things worked. What he did know was that he should have told her he was coming with her instead of waiting around for her to ask.
Putting yourself out there, asking for help, you risked getting hurt. It had been cowardly to leave it to her. What was she thinking of him right now? Nothing good. That was for sure. He glanced at his watch. She was likely getting ready if she wasn’t already on her way. Had she texted him, or tried to call? He traced the outline of his phone through his pocket but didn’t pull it out. There was nothing he could do now. He prayed he’d be able to make it up to her later.
Finally, the light came on. Ditching his seatbelt, he grabbed his bag and joined the press of bodies headin
g for the door. It had been eight hours since he’d seen her. Why did it feel like an eternity? How did he hope to go weeks? Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out his phone as soon as he cleared the gate. She’d sent one text and called. No voicemail. Was that good or bad? He didn’t have much battery left. Having packed light, he didn’t need to claim luggage. Taxis were lined up at the exit.
“Where to?”
“Uh…the Grand Plaza Hotel,” he said, fumbling for his phone again to find the address.
“Amway Grand Plaza Hotel on Monroe Avenue. No problem. About fifteen minutes,” the driver said, already merging into traffic.
Ignoring the tremble in his hands, CJ called Annie. It went to voice mail.
“Hey, beautiful, it’s CJ. If you could give me a quick call as soon as you get this that would be great. Hang in there. I know they’re going to love you.”
Ending the call, he stared at the phone, taking in the time. Maybe she was already at the party. He wasn’t sure what time the thing was supposed to start. What did he do if it had already started and she didn’t call him back? Rubbing his palms on his thighs, he wondered what the dress code was for a launch party. The black jeans, boots, button up shirt and black leather jacket he was wearing was about as dressed up as he usually got. He glanced at the driver. He seemed friendly enough. It was worth a shot.
“Do you know how fancy this Grand Plaza Hotel is?”
“I’d say it’s one of the nicest in Grand Rapids,” the guy answered, gaze flickering to the rearview mirror. “I’ve never seen the actual rooms, but I’ve been to the steak house there a couple of times.”
“My girlfriend is having a book launch party there tonight. She doesn’t know I’m in town. I’m just trying to figure out how underdressed I’m going to be if I crash her party,” CJ said, a small smile curving his lips at calling Annie his girlfriend. It was nice.
“That’s hard telling, buddy. Do you know if she’s having this party in one of the restaurants or in a private room?”
“No clue.”
The cabbie craned his neck to get a look at CJ in the back seat. He shrugged.
“Unless it’s formal I’d say you’re okay, but what do I know? Women sometimes have a different opinion of what looks okay than we men do.”
CJ had to chuckle. Wasn’t that the truth? His phone rang. Annie’s smile lit the screen. Swallowing his nerves, he hit the button.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Hey yourself.”
She sounded happy to hear from him and was that relief as well?
“Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. About the time you were getting off the plane, I was getting on one.”
“A plane?” There was a pause. “Where are you?”
“Grand Rapids, Michigan. I heard it was nice this time of year.”
“Someone lied to you,” she said with a snort.
He grinned. “I also heard there were smart, sexy, literary types here.”
“You really need to have a talk with your travel agent.”
Joke, deflect, joke. Typical Annie.
“Are you at the hotel?”
Silence. He glanced at his phone to make sure they were still connected.
“Annie?”
“Standing outside it, trying to work up the guts to go in.”
“I know you’re scared. There’s not a lot I can do about that except offer to be there for you. I should’ve done that in Wyoming, but I’m here now.”
“I can’t believe you came all the way here just to hold my hand,” she said, her voice shaky.
“I’d like to hold all of you, but I’ll start with your hand.”
“It sounds like I’m getting the best part of this deal.”
He thought he heard a sniffle and kicked himself again. If he’d just made the trip with her.
“Baby, my battery is about to die so if I lose you I will be there in about…” CJ glanced at the driver who flashed him an open hand. “I’ll be there in about five minutes.”
“Okay. I can hold it together until then.” Her teeth were chattering. “I’m going to step inside the lobby before I turn into a Popsicle,” she said, sniffing again.
“Get inside, beautiful. I’ll be there in just a couple of minutes to warm you up.”
“Promises, promises,” Annie teased. “Remember I still have this party to go to.”
He chuckled and the phone beeped its death knell. Reluctantly, he shoved it in his pocket.
“Almost there, man. Was it a good surprise?”
“Yeah. Still don’t know about the clothes, but it sounds like she’ll be happy to see me.”
“It’s a start. You’ll work the rest out.”
“I’m trying.”
Paying the fare along with a nice tip, CJ took a deep breath and stepped out.
“Thanks, man. Good luck, and I hope your lady’s book does good.”
“Thanks. Tell your wife it’s called Mackinac Monday and I think it hits bookstores next week,” CJ called over his shoulder before slamming the door.
“You’re pimping my book to the cabbie?”
His heart skipped a beat as Annie walked toward him on the snowy sidewalk. Damn, he’d missed her.
“Any publicity is good publicity,” he said, swinging his bag up onto his shoulder. “And I thought you were going to wait inside.”
She rubbed her hands over the outside of her folded arms and smiled at him like a naughty child.
“I was inside until I saw the cab pull up.”
CJ caught her elbows and pulled her against his chest. Her arms slid under his jacket and around his waist. Holding her tight, he pressed his nose into her dark hair.
“It’s only been hours and it felt like weeks,” he murmured.
“I thought that was just me,” she whispered into his chest.
“Nope. I knew I’d screwed up the moment they closed that jet door behind you.”
“I almost didn’t get on the plane in Denver. Anything other than my book and I would’ve never left. I’m sorry.”
Pushing her back from him so he could look down into her face CJ shook his head.
“No. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I won’t ask you to choose between me and your passion.”
“What if you’re my passion?” she asked, fiddling with the zipper on his coat.
He grinned down at her. “I guess people can have more than one kind of passion. Lucky us. But I don’t want to come between you and your writing career. I love what I do. I know how it feels. We can work something out if we just talk.”
“We seem to be good at talking until it really matters. I wanted to beg you to come with me.”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t offer. I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me here, but I couldn’t stay away knowing how scared you were.”
“Why wouldn’t I want you here? Short of my parents, there’s no one I’d rather have beside me. Maybe that’s crazy in the short time we’ve known one another, but you make me feel…” Annie’s hands left his coat to flutter in the air between them. “Safe, sheltered, home…I don’t know what the right word is, but it feels right.”
Hauling her back against him, CJ claimed her lips. Their kiss was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. She groaned into his mouth. He caught her hand as she reached for it.
“All of your words are perfect. It feels very right.”
Annie beamed up at him. The phone stopped ringing. She stretched up for another kiss and the ringtone started again. This time, she growled and dug in her pocket for the offending device.
“My publicist,” she muttered, hitting the button to answer the call. “I’m walking in the door. Yes, the Plaza’s front doors. My man flew into town to surprise me so we have one extra.” A delighted smile split her face and she glanced up at him as he held the door open. “Yes. His name is CJ Barrett. They sound gorgeous. He’s a total sweetheart. I’m telling you about him now. No worries, Cami. I’m getting in the elevator now. See you in a
minute.”
She’d called him her man. He could get used to that. Joining another couple, they stepped into the elevator. Annie leaned forward to punch the button for their floor, and then pressed back to his side.
“Cami tells me that a CJ Barrett sent me beautiful calla lilies.”
“I wasn’t sure what kind of flowers you like. The florist said these were elegant and would work in a business setting better than roses,” he admitted.
“Thank you. Any flowers from you would’ve been perfect, but you and the florist picked well. Lilies are my favorite. Wait until you see the huge peace lily plant I have in my apartment,” she said, fingers tightening on his as she watched the floor numbers rise.
The elevator stopped and the other couple stepped out leaving them alone. He pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head.
“Are you okay?”
“Better now that you’re here, but still a basket case. Sorry.”
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you,” he said squeezing her. “So, tell me what’s so terrible about these things. What have I gotten myself into?”
The teasing did its job. She smiled.
“I really can’t tell you. This is the first time they’ve thrown a launch party for me. Normally, they make me do a book signing on release day in one of the larger cities. Usually one closest to the setting of the book. Then I do a string of smaller signings, mostly in the Midwest, with a few on the East coast. It depends on interest. Bookstores are getting to be few and far between. A lot of readers wait for the e-book and even those that don’t, order online,” she explained, her free hand fluttering nervously with her words. “So, I can’t tell you what you’ve gotten yourself into because I don’t know. Which is partially why I’m freaking out. I don’t deal well with not knowing in real-life. Fiction is a whole other beast. On top of that, I hate crowds and speaking in public makes me want to pass out.”
He listened to her words pick up speed as she went along, her waving hand keeping pace. Her face was pale, making her freckles stand out. CJ wasn’t sure if she was closer to hyperventilating or throwing up. She’d said ‘they make me.’ In their talks, she’d jokingly referred to herself as borderline agoraphobic. Maybe it hadn’t been a joke. Dealing with travel and crowds, the book signings had to be scary as hell for her.
Why not Wyoming? (Wyoming Wilds Series Book 1) Page 12
