I nurse the last of my coffee while the idea rolls around in my head, scraping against every excuse I’ve made over the last six years.
And I ask myself just one question:Is this the way I want to live for the rest of my life?
Because if the answer is no, then there’s no time like the present to change things up.
I grab my phone from the counter again and stare at Derek’s last text. “Guess you’re really earning that commission,” I mutter and dial his number.
The phone rings twice before his voice bursts through the speaker, sharp and eager. “Please tell me you’re calling to say yes.”
“Good morning to you too,” I drawl. As much as Derek can be irritating, he’s truly been a friend over the last few years. I wouldn’t be where I am now if it weren’t for him.
“Don’t stall me, Rochelle. I’ve been living off espresso and anxiety for a week. The tour’s a goldmine—late-night TV, the BookTok summit, two major podcasts—everybody wants you. This is your chance, and while these appearances aren’t happening until next month, we have to confirm now.”
I lean against the counter, tracing the rim of my mug with my thumb. “You think so, huh?”
“I know so,” he says. “You’re about to break out and become a household name. You’ve built a fandom without ever showing your face, which is miraculous, but it’s time to step into the spotlight. So, yes or no?”
For a second, I see Penny again, chin propped on her hand across the marble island, eyes bright with conviction.
You didn’t just build a house—you built a life. You should be proud of it.
“Yes,” I say finally.
There’s a beat of silence, then Derek explodes. “Holy shit—you mean it? You’re actually saying yes?”
“I’m saying yes.”
He lets out something halfway between a laugh and a yell. “Finally! Sam, do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear those words? We’re going to do this right—new author photos, interviews, morning shows. The fans are going to lose their minds when they find out you’re—”
“A dude?” I finish for him.
“Exactly!” he says, gleeful. “It’s going to blow up. A male author writing romantasy under a gender-neutral pen name—brilliant. Unexpected. We can spin the hell out of that.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, that’s… exactly what I was afraid of.”
“Relax,” he says. “You’ll look great on camera. Maybe shave the facial scruff, get a good haircut. I’ll need you to come here to start planning—”
“I’m not flying to New York,” I interrupt.
That shuts him up. “What do you mean, you’re not flying to New York? You have to come here so we can plan the rollout.”
“I’m too busy,” I say, even as I know deep in my gut, my decision not to leave has to do with Penny. “No,” I say evenly. “You come here.”
“Here? Where’s ‘here’? Whynot, North Carolina?”
“That’s the one.”
“But… you don’t have decent bagels there.”
“We have biscuits,” I say resolutely, knowing that his first Whynot meal will be at Central Café. “They’re better.”
“Fine,” he whines. “Tell me you at least have a decent hotel nearby.”
“Even better. We’ve got a great bed-and-breakfasthere in town.”
“Oh, hell no. I’m not sharing a bathroom with anyone.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” I ask with a laugh. “You’re a goddamn diva, but I assure you, each suite has its own bathroom.”
