‘I bet they’d have you back in a heartbeat.’
‘No,’ I assured her, remembering Mrs Hedges deeply unimpressed face when she held up a copy of my book. ‘They wouldn’t.’
‘Better not fuck this up then,’ she said brightly, pattingthe card from Mal that shared the same sentiment as the door opened.
‘One-minute warning,’ Charlotte bellowed over the racket outside. She beckoned Sarah, cocking her head out the door. ‘I saved a seat for you, but you’d better go and claim it before someone starts a riot.’
‘Please, I’m a single mum of two boys,’ she replied with a scoff. ‘They haven’t a chance in hell.’
‘I thought seats were for paying customers only?’ I said as Sarah stuffed a handful of sweets into her pocket.
‘She gives me free croissants,’ Charlotte replied, one finger delicately pressing the earpiece of the headset she’d acquired since she was last in here. ‘Put more lipstick on and get ready. Sixty seconds toAn Evening with Este Cox.’
With a double thumbs up, Sarah followed my sister out the door and they left me alone. The first time I’d been by myself in here since my very first visit, sitting in the chair behind the desk I’d avoided like the plague with Joe on his knees in front of me. It already felt like something I’d read in a book. It couldn’t possibly have happened in real life.
I hadn’t heard from him since that Sunday. I deleted all his voicemails and texts without reading them, reminding myself over and over I’d known him less than three days and the whole thing was meaningless. But weeks later, I was still half hoping to see him every time the doorbell rang, my heart still in my throat whenever flowers arrived, just in case they were from him.
They never were.
Mal never mentioned him. My books had been passed on to a super-talented new creative director who I lovedand had no interest in shagging whatsoever and the only time Dad had spoken Gregory’s name in my presence was when he called with the good news that not only had he signed Nelson Allen, but Nelson and Genevieve Salinger were also collaborating on a project together, having hit it off during his birthday party. Funny how things turned out.
‘Soph.’ Charlotte stuck her head around the door one more time as I gave the desk a longing look. ‘We’re ready to start when you are.’
‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’
I stood up and brushed out my hair with my hands. Should I have worn it up? Should I be wearing something more glamorous? Would I regret necking that Diet Coke before my first-ever public appearance? Possibly, probably and almost definitely.
‘You’ve got a Taser for any trouble-causers, right?’ I asked, only half joking, and she threw up her fists and put on her most threatening face.
‘Don’t need a Taser when you’ve got Take ’Em Out Taylor,’ she said, raising her fists in front of her face. ‘Anyone even looks at you the wrong way and they’ll be eating their Christmas dinner through a straw. My dad was a boxer in his youth, you know.’
‘I have heard that,’ I replied, kissing my little sister on the top of the head as we walked out into the shop, arm in arm, and the screaming began.
‘Yes, the lady with the amazing pink headband.’
I pointed towards the far side of the bookshop and a young woman with an impressive amount of gorgeous curly red hair stood up, holding out her hand for Charlotte’s roving mic.
‘Hi, I love the book and I read that there’s going to be a film. Do you get any say in casting and can Sebastian Stan play Eric?’
The room erupted in conflicting roars of agreement and dissent and I sat back in my comfy armchair, almost unable to believe all these people had such passionate opinions about a book I’d written in bed after CJ fell asleep, trying not to type too loud because the sound of clacking keys ‘gave him nightmares’.
‘I haven’t talked to anyone,’ I replied, speaking up before a fight broke out. ‘Honestly, I have no idea, I haven’t even seen a script yet, but I’ll definitely let the people in charge know all your suggestions.’
So far, the event had been a huge success, my most pinch-me moment yet. I’d wasted so much time worrying about the people who would look down on me for writingButterflies, I hadn’t given myself a chance to think about the people who would celebrate it. And they so desperately wanted to celebrate it. We started with a reading then Charlotte asked me some annoyingly intelligent and insightful questions, Mum, Dad, William and Mal all lined up along the side of the shop, beaming with pride. I could’ve done without the dreaded uninvited guest, CJ, gurning at me from the doorway but the family had decided it was easier to let him in than risk a scene outside. Personally, I’d have voted for a scene. Preferably one where I got to punch him again.
‘Any more questions?’ I asked, already wiggling my fingers to prepare for what my sibling assured me was going to be a mammoth signing session. I would have happily sat there all night long chatting with them about everything from which Taylor Swift album was Jenna’s favourite to my most-watchedReal Housewivesfranchise, but it was getting late and there were so many people crammed into the bookshop, I couldn’t even see the faces in the back three rows. If we didn’t start the signing soon, we’d all be here until midnight which probably wouldn’t go down very well with the people who needed to catch a bus home.
‘Why do you think romance novels are so popular right now?’ asked a voice in the middle of the room, a girl in a sparkly lavender T-shirt dress with arms full of friendship bracelets. Everyone’s arms were full of friendship bracelets, including my own, and I planned to treasure each one forever.
‘I’m sure there are a million reasons,’ I replied, having practised the answer to this one plenty of times over the last few weeks after Mal forced me into media training, something I was grateful for now. ‘For me personally, I love romance because it gives me hope. When I was very unhappy and lonely—’ a brief pause to glare at my ex in the background ‘—these were the books that kept me going. Not that I want my life to be as dramatic as Jenna’s but writing her story helped me convince myself I would find someone too. Someone better. Someone who really saw and appreciated me for who I am. That’s why I think modern romance novels are so brilliant, they celebrate women exactly as they are.’
‘We’ve got time for one more,’ Charlotte announced as a dozen more arms shot up. One reached much higher than the others, a large hand coming out of the cuff of a white shirt. ‘Right there, in the back?’
‘Thank you, appreciate it.’
I heard the voice and every muscle in my body tensed. The entire crowd turned in their seats to see who was speaking but I already knew. I’d know that voiceanywhere. Slowly, Joe rose to his feet at the very back of the room and accepted a microphone from my traitorous baby sister.
‘First, I wanted to say thank you forButterflies. It’s an amazing book and I know I speak for everyone here when I say we cannot wait for the sequel.’
