Ryan finishes typing and pockets his device. “I’m going to grab a coffee before we board. What can I get for everyone?”
Maral’s and Shanthi’s orders were locked and loaded, judging by the speed with which they shoot them out. But I’m too wary of letting this guy ingratiate himself to me.
“Nothing for me,” I say.
Maral pops her head up, finally making eye contact. She knows I’ve been seeking out coffee like Gollum hunts his precious since before we arrived at the airport. She also knows I wouldn’t settle for just any express market swill.
“Are you sure? Starbucks dark roast?” he says, as if he knows exactly what will entice me. “You can smell the sweet smoky goodness from here.”
My mouth waters even as I clock that he’s repeating verbatim words I’ve used to profess my love for its aroma on the podcast. That would mean Ryan has listened to at least one episode, when my bet would’ve been that he’s listened to exactly zero.
But this revelation has nothing on my tenacity. “All coffeed out for today.”
He shrugs and heads toward the kiosk.
“In my entire life, I’ve never heard you say the wordsall coffeed out,” Maral says.
“Madam,” I say, “don’t think I didn’t notice you swoon when he offered to get you any beverage your heart desires.”
She sets her weekender on the floor. “I don’t get people tripping over themselves to fulfill my desires every day like you do. Especially not men who look like him.”
“What exactly is doing it for you?” I ask. “Is it the black cloak? Or the scythe?”
“Maybe the way he fills out that blazer,” she says. “Shanth, you agree, right?”
“Yeah, he’s hot,” Shanthi says impassively.
“You’re not even attracted to men,” I say.
She shrugs. “I can still appreciate the goods.”
“Did you two miss the fact that tomorrow’s event got fucked the second he stepped in as publicist?” I ask.
“Did he set fire to the dry cleaner?” Shanthi asks, not looking up from her phone.
Mar gasps dramatically. “Of course, it’s the only answer. He must have flown to Chicago after your launch last night, committed arson, and then flown back to New York so we’d be none the wiser and he could fly back to Chicago with us this morning. Diabolical. The carbon emissionsalone.”
I glare at her. “You of all people know how hard we’ve worked to make this tour a success.”
“And it will be,” Maral says, in the voice she uses to mollify me when I get worked up. “The event is not fucked—they’ll find a new spot and it’ll go great. I know the shitty coverage freaked you out—”
I begin to sputter a rebuttal, and she holds up a palm to silenceme.
“—but it’s far outweighed by the well-deserved praise the book has received. You got a starred review inBooklistandPublishers Weekly—do you know how incredible that is? The book is solid, you killed it. Preorders were strong. All the tour events have been arranged by Meredith and me, and he’s just here for logistical execution, which it sounds like he’s on top of. You know he’s nottryingto sabotage the book.”
I exhale. God, I hate it when she’s reasonable. But it doesn’t change the fact that he just doesn’t get the book, or care to. I don’t want to promote something I worked so hard on with someone who looks down on it—there are enough haters out there without having one inside the house.
“Maybe you’ll warm up to him by the end of the flight,” Maral says.
“Unlikely,” I say, “since you and I are spending the flight going over the interview questions I’ll be—”
“Nah,” says Maral. “I’m going to sit with Shanthi, and you’re going to sit with Ryan.”
“What?” The plane is an Embraer, with two seats on either side of the aisle, which means we have to couple up. “Why?”
“So you can make nice.”
“I’m always nice.” There is no need tosocialize. He is on this trip in a strictly professional capacity, his only function being to make sure things go smoothly. Although whether he’s capable of doing that remains to be seen.
