They locate her at her signing booth, but I’m told she’ll meet me in the green room after she wraps up.
I wait, pacing, checking my phone, then pacing some more. When the door finally opens, Melinda steps in, exuding the kind of confidence that comes from living in a world of her own creation—one built on words, imagination, and the unwavering loyalty of her readers.
She looks me over, then grins. “I’m always taken aback by how much taller you are in person.”
I chuckle, shaking her offered hand. “I’m six-two, but I guess by Hollywood standards, that makes me a good six-four. And you’re much scarier in person.”
She lifts a brow, unimpressed. “Good,” she says, taking a seat across from me. “That means I’m doing my job.”
I sit as well, leaning forward slightly. “I wanted to thank you for what you said in the interviews. About me being the right Anlon.”
She tilts her head, studying me in a way that makes me feel like she’s seeing more than I’m saying. “I meant it.”
That same tightness coils in my chest—the weight of knowing I have to be the right Anlon, not just on-screen, but for her. For Amy.
“I don’t take it lightly,” I admit. “I know how much these characters mean to people.”
Her lips curve, something knowing flickering in her expression. “To one person in particular?”
My stomach tightens. “What?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “No offense, but Anlon is a man writtenforwomenbya woman, and your understanding of him?” She gives me a small smile. “You could be the smartest man in the world, but the way you get him? That’s a woman talking.”
I exhale sharply, slumping slightly in my seat. “She’s a huge fan of yours. Has been from day one.”
Melinda’s expression softens. “And who is she?”
And then I say it.
Because it feels true. Because Imeanit. And because, Lord help me, Iwantto say it.
“My girlfriend, Amelia.”
A knowing smile tugs at her lips. “You’re lucky to have her.”
And just like that, I decide I’m a little in love with Melinda James.
She gets it, and I’m the lucky one.
I know how it’ll look to the press, to the world, to everyone who doesn’t really know me, like I settled, likeshewon the lottery.
But they’ll be wrong. Sodamnwrong.
Melinda wraps her hands around her travel cup, tilting her head slightly. “I heard you’ll be in London soon.”
Not soon enough. That’s when I’m planning to meet Amy and take our relationship to the next level—well, if she allows me near her.
“Yeah.” I nod, keeping my tone neutral. “Second week of December for theExplosion Protocolpremiere.”
She takes a sip of her drink, considering me. “That’s too bad. I have a signing at Waterstones that same week. It would’ve been a great opportunity for you to hear directly from the fans and really immerse yourself in how peopleseeAnlon.” She pauses, then adds, almost offhandedly, “My publicists reached out to yours, but apparently, you’re fully booked the entire three days you’re there.”
I school my expression, but inside? I’m raging. Frustration coils hot in my gut, bleeding into pure, unfiltered anger.
Of course they did. Of course my team—so focused on controlling every aspect of my image and my schedule—thought it unnecessary for me to attend.
I take a slow breath, pushing the fury down.
I thank every power in existence that I’m an actor because right now, the only thing keeping me from flipping this goddamn table is years of training.
