That was enough to dislodge her tongue. “I thought people would make fun of you. Brody is obviously a higher level of author than you. I mean… you write romance.” Her eye roll was pronounced. “He writes masterful prose and fiction. You write sex scenes, for crying out loud.”
Her disdain was overt. I didn’t take it personally. I never did. She was obviously deranged. Even if she hadn’t been, fiction was one of those things that was subjective. Not everybody liked the same thing. That was why it was so amazing to be a reader.
“Can I ask you something?” I kept my expression brutally pleasant, although it took effort.
Blair shrugged. “I guess.”
“How do you see this going?” I was honestly curious. “Do you think you’re going to scare me away from Brody so you can have him?”
Annoyance pinched Blair’s brows together. “I don’t know that we belong together. I’m not some crazed fan. We haven’t even had a chance, though. You took that away from me.”
“Is that what you were doing at the events? Were you trying to get your chance?”
“Yes, but you kept interrupting us. You said my notebook was stupid.”
“I don’t believe I said it was stupid.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I said it was cruel,” I clarified. “I stand by that. You can’t criticize somebody’s life work—over and over and over again—and expect them to be okay with it. That’s not how it works.”
To my surprise, Blair looked to be actually considering the words. “So you’re saying I made the mistake, not him.”
Sticky situation.For how much she liked to dish out criticism, Blair was incapable of being on the receiving end of it. “I’m saying constant criticism makes people turn inward.” I chose my words carefully. “I know because I got constant criticism from her when I was a kid.” I jerked my thumb toward Mom.
“Oh, really, Bree,” Mom deadpanned. “Is now the time to work out your childhood therapy issues?”
For some reason, that made me want to laugh. This was not a funny situation. The fact that she could be herself despite what was going on was just so Sylvia, though. It was why I couldn’t cut her out of my life.
“Mom, go inside,” I ordered.
This wasn’t a Lifetime-movie situation. Well, maybe it was, but it wasn’t going to end like one of those movies. Blair wasn’t going to try to stab me. She wasn’t going to pull off her shirt and reveal a bomb. She was just an intense woman who needed to be talked off a ledge.
“No.” Mom folded her arms. “There’s no way that’s happening.”
I couldn’t waste time arguing with her, so I turned my full attention back to Blair. “Why did you slash my tires? Did you think that would stop Brody and me from going home together?”
She shrugged, and I was relieved she didn’t deny what had happened.
“I was just mad. You guys aren’t even supposed to like one another,” she said.
“Why do you say that?” I was just burning time until the police showed up. Then this would all be over.
“Because of what happened at that panel you were on together.”
I froze. “You know about that?”
“Everybody knows about it. The other authors were talking.”
“Are you an author?” That didn’t fit my picture of her.
“No.” She snorted and shook her head. “I was there, though. I saw what you did.”
I swallowed hard. “What is it that you saw?” Weirdly, I wanted to hear another attendee’s perspective.
“It was his first big panel. It was the first time I was going to meet him.”
I nodded to encourage her to continue.
