“I’m just going to run to the restroom.”
“Oh, I guess I should go too,” Amelia says with a huff. “Never get old, ladies.” They start walking, Hazel giggling as she reminds her aunt that she’snotold just mature, their conversation fading as they disappear from sight.
“Kat?” Tom seems to materialize out of thin air, and I gasp as I stumble back a step.
His hand is gentle but firm on my arm, steadying me and saving me from wiping out on these adorable, white, round-toe heels.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He didn’t scare me but he definitely jump-started my heart.
Wow.
Seconds have passed and I canstillfeel the little zing of electricity running though my veins.
“It’s fine. I just forgot you were here.”
“I’d be offended but that’s kind of the point.”
“Uh-huh,” I agree before schooling my expression to match his. “What’s up?”
“I want you to keep this on the table to your left.” Pulling a pen from the pocket of his jeans, he holds it out for me to take. “If someone approaches or you see something you’re uneasy about, knock it to the floor.”
“Okay.”
Swallowing hard, I wrap my fingers around the cool metal, the instrument so much sleeker and more expensive than anything I have.
“You’re making a face again.”
“Just thinking that maybe I’ll keep this one and you can take one of mine with the squishy baseball on the top.”
“Not going to happen,” he deadpans, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes and I’m liable to swoon right here on the spot.
“Okay, places, everyone!” Margot calls. “We will be opening the doors in ten minutes!”
“I guess that’s me,” Tom nods, placing his hand on the small of my back as he steers me toward the table.
“You’re going to do great. And remember,”—his voice is stern as we stop behind my table—“nothingis more important than making you feel safe and comfortable. Even if you just need to check in. All right?”
“It’s going to be great.” I beam, and he smiles softly.
“It already is.”
24
KAT
“It already is.”
Oh my gosh, what does that mean?
I should be focused on the kids racing toward my table, and I am, but those three words have been ricocheting around my head as I smile, nod, and scrawl my name—and theirs— across the pages. We take pictures along with hugs and high fives.
Whatever they’re comfortable with.
Because I want this to be one of the best days of their lives. I want them to reread their book at bedtime and then tell their teachers and friends at school on Monday that they met a real-life author.
I want those little creative minds to leave believing that they too can be here behind this table living their dream…that anything is possible.
