It’s standing room only.
Wow.
I make my way through the crowd of women clenching their wrapped book in the direction of the stage. At my height, if I don’t, I’ll miss all the action.
A waiter passing by offers me a drink. I narrow my eyes on the little white card on his tray.
Blue sparkle cocktail. Sparkling wine, Curaçao liquor, and vodka.
I meet the waiter’s eyes. “Right up my alley.” I pluck a flute. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Since there are so many eager readers, there’s no roaming around the bookstore, so I stay put where I’m standing and enjoy my drink.
“Hello, everyone.” One of the bookstore owners is standing on the makeshift stage, leaning into the microphone. “Thank you so much to all of you avid readers for coming out on this glorious afternoon,” the blonde says. “Your Sunday is about to get better. This is a double whammy. A blind date with a bookanda blinddate with an author. We kept the identity of our special guest a secret because once the cat is out of the bag, you ladies are gonna lose your shit.”
That’s a big promise.
“Tuck the copy of your book under your arm and let’s give a big round of applause to our guest author. His resume is impressive. All-Star hockey player. Former center and team captain for the New York Blazers…”
Wait. What?
“Three-time Stanley Cup winner. Olympic gold and silver medalist. Triple Gold Club member…”
What’s going on here?
“Restaurateur and craft beer brewer extraordinaire are also part of his accolades.”
This isn’t possible.
“And last, but not least, philanthropist,” she says. “Kazimir Lindströmjust added another feather to his cap––published author.”
When the hell did he have time to write a book?
“Kaz, if you’ll join us on stage,” the blonde says.
The crowd claps.
Some women whistle.
I’m shell-shocked to do anything else but to stand there like a marble statue.
My heart stumbles, then stops altogether when a devastatingly handsome, rugged, and intoxicating man steps on stage. He’s wearing the hell out of a navy-blue suit accompanied with a white shirt sans tie look.
Jaw meet floor.
“Thank you so much, Laura,” Kaz says.
She responds with an enthusiastic wave and a shoulder shimmy.
Kaz swings his gaze towards the crowd, our eyes colliding.
I shake my head.
He winks in response. “Thank you so much for coming out for my debut book. I’ll read a few passages from it. Please be kind, I’m no audiobook narrator, but Laura assures me, and I quote,‘Readers eat that shit up’.”
Laura points at him, her grin taking over her face.
