“And what I gave them wasn’t enough?”
“Nope. Welcome to the world of new indie age of publishing. There are so many writers out there, if you don’t keep up, you’ll get lost in the shuffle. Lots of fish, big sea, kinda thing.”
“Isn’t it small fish? And I don’t want to keep up,” I say, trying to keep up with her fast pace. Kristen always being on the go clearly stays so skinny by her constant speed walking. “Dude, will you slow down! I don’t plan on writing anything else. I’m done after this,” I say, just as we turn the corner.
Smacking right into Chase Green, like the color, Charlie Bates, like the motel.
Fuck.
God, he looks good.
So, so good.
Blink, Katie.
“Hey.” His voice is soft but noticeably nervous. Realizing he’s holding me, he quickly lets go, jamming his hands into his pockets as if to keep himself constrained.
“Hi,” I repeat, unsure what else to say or do. Kristen is definitely not sure, because she keeps looking back and forth between us. My skin feels on fire where his hands once touched me and my hands are starting to feel fidgety.
“Wow, you look really good. Great. I mean, better than that… You—”
“Thanks, so do you,” I cut him off, saving him from wherever he was going with that. I end up following suit, jamming my own hands in my back pockets. I guess I get it now. It’s so we keep our hands to ourselves. Because right now, mine want to reach out and touch him.
“Okay, well, Katie, we really need to get you checked in and to your interviews.”
I turn to her. “I thought we just finish—”
She grabs my arm. “Okay! So sorry, Charlie, I need my famous author. Let me know if you need anything.” She beams at him then starts pulling me away.
I pass by him, our shoulders briefly touching. The smell of his cologne seeps into my nostrils when I hear him call my name. I turn, watching him.
“It’s really great to see you.”
I don’t reply. I slowly nod and force myself to turn, allowing Kristen to drag me away.
Worst night’s sleep ever.
After escaping Chase’s soul sucking eyes, Kristen checked me in and, taking no precautions, took me up the service elevator in case Chase was following. I rolled my eyes the whole time, saying how ridiculous it was, but she informed me she was not blind to the moment we just shared and since my hand was still shaking in hers, it was not ridiculous at all.
She told me to order room service if I didn’t want to leave the room, and I agreed. I just needed to process. But with all the precautions Kristen had been taking, when I picked up the phone to order my normal pizza, I became super paranoid Chase would track me down by my infamous pizza order and spat out some random dish instead. Needless to say, the chicken parmesan went untouched.
I lay in bed attempting to watch TV, but all I could do every two fucking seconds was bring my eyes away from the screen and on to that connecting door. I was so tense, thinking that at any point it was going to open and Chase would walk through. I told myself it was impossible and to knock it off. I lasted a whole thirty-seven seconds before I finally got up and took any furniture that was light enough to move and barricaded the door.
But still, I felt no ease. Midnight rolled around, then one, then two, and it was in the crazy hours of the morning, when I had to have been so sleep deprived that I pondered ordering pizza just to see if it set off some secret buzzer notifying Chase where I was.
Once my alarm went off and I almost finished counting the specs on the ceiling, I gave up and just got up. I showered and dressed in a black dress that sat just above my knees, along with my red Converse. I left my hair down so people were less likely to see the bags under my eyes. Maybe they would focus on my pretty bright shoes instead. Kristen came and got me, and as we walked to the banquet hall, the closer we got, the more my unease set in.
“I… I don’t think I can do this.” I stop, waving off the sweat building in my palms.
“Kat, yes, you can. Trust me, you’ll barely see him. You have a line out the door. Once you’re done I’ll escort you back or we can leave the hotel and go out.”
I hate that this has become such a bigger deal. I don’t want to admit that I secretly do want to see Chase. But that’s just the sucker part of me. Then there’s that tough guy in me that screams just rip off the Band-Aid. Just fucking deal with him and get the fuck over it.
“I know. I… I just need a minute.”
She nods, and we stand there, allowing me to breathe. Two more deep breaths and I give her the okay, let’s do this. But once we walk into the banquet hall, shit hits the fan.
“I swear, I had them set up the way you requested last night. I have no idea how or who got in here to move them, but I’m working to find out.” Tara looks like she’s going to throw up.
Kristen looks murderous, and I look, well, I look, I don’t know what I look like.
We all stand there, at the table settings, the updated settings, to see that Charlie Bates’ table has been moved directly across from mine.
“Well, who the ever-loving fuck did all this?” Kristen barks, waving her hands all over the place.
“Like I said, I’m trying to figure it out. I just called down to maintenance to have someone move them.”
“Move them? The doors are about to open in less than two minutes!” Kristen is now yelling and other authors are looking our way. Without warning the volunteers to stall, they open the doors. And mayhem begins.
“God, Kat, I’m so sorry. I can fix—”
“Seriously, it’s fine. I’ll be fine,” I assure her.
“Honey, no. This is not okay.”
“Kristen, you’ve done way too much. I’m a grownup. I need to start acting like one. I can handle it.”
And just as I vow to be the bigger person, Chase walks in, along with his assistant, smiling from ear to ear.
And Kristen attacks.
“You little—”
I grab her forearm, stopping her from jumping Chase. “Kristen, seriously. Chase and I are adults. We can work across from one another, right, Chase?”
His eyes don’t leave mine. He doesn’t even acknowledge the death stare from Kristen. “Yes, I promise. I’ll behave. I just wanted to be close in case anything happens.” He steps up to me, my body instantly on fire. “I promise I won’t bother you. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
Talk, Katie.
Say something.
Fucking nod!
Ugh. It takes me gulping down my emotions to finally speak. “It’s fine. Just stay on your side of the pond, Bates, got it?” I force the humor out, needing this tension to wade.
I sense the hurt in his eyes when I call him Bates, but we need that separation. He can’t be Chase Green to me anymore.
“Okay. Well, then, it’s settled. Get on your side, Mr. Bates,” Kristen snaps, then turns to me. “And if you need anything, you call for me.” And with that our signing begins.
Dedication.
Holy smokes do these fans have it.
Every single signing, I’ve sold out of books. I don’t even know how. People don’t buy just one. They buy three, five, a dozen, getting books for friends, blogs, one to read and one to keep in a locked bookshelf like special autographed trophies.
And don’t get me started on all the homemade fan swag. The homemade T-shirts? They were awesome. The words Love Broken looked pretty badass across chests and backs. I’m now a proud owner of a few.
The signing room is packed with rows of crisp white linen tables, topped with thick books, thin books, naughty covers and sweet ones. The crazed amount of colorful swag littering in between. Pens, cups, bookmarks, the list goes on and on. And you can literally feel the vibrancy of the crowd. The chatter between friends, strangers, fans, and even tagalong husbands. It’s just complete madness. And in the world of book signings, there’s no time to dwell. On anything. Even a certain model across the way.
Due to the chaos of the day, I’m able to take my mind off Chase. For the early part of the signing, my attention is completely engrossed by readers. And who can not be engrossed by a bunch of people dressed in head to toe “Love Broken” riot gear. Because that’s apparently what you get when you write a story that creates a phenomenon about women who realize they are worth more than a fake endearment and a self-indulgent slap on the ass.
These women of all ages were seeing life and love in a completely different light. They didn’t want to fall for the various types of fake bullshit life was feeding them. It was complete bananas the range of stories I listened to. There was the teenager who got screwed over by the high school football star, the college girl who got taken advantage of by her long-distance boyfriend. The bartenders, the business women. The shy, the bold, the strong, the not so… They all had a story. A girl trying to be someone they weren’t, just to get the guy.
The saddest thing is, that with each and every single story I listened to, I could relate. The boy in high school you spent your entire freshman year doing anything to get noticed by and, finally, at a party when he’s drunk as shit, he tells you you’re pretty, just to lure you into the bathroom and steal a part of you that was meant for someone special.
How about the college stories, of all girls who just want to get the guy? College being the worst stereotype when it comes to love and bullshit. It’s not a place for love, it’s a place where the girl doesn’t not only not get the guy, she gets a complex and a lifelong set of insecurities and daddy issues.
We grow up just wanting forever. Guys grow up wanting the complete opposite. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not labeling every guy on the planet. I know there are men out there, from adolescent to retired, who want nothing more than to find the same love us women do. I just have absolutely no idea where those rare species are. I’ve heard and read about them, but they just don’t seem to run in the same circles—shit, same realm as me. As most of society.
Okay, so yeah, there was a time where I could name off a certain someone who met the endangered, perfect man, species list. At least I thought I could. And after listening to story after story about jerks, it made me put my own situation into perspective. I shouldn’t be sad about how things went down with Chase and me, but should be madder. Angry. Revengeful!
With a frown now marring my face, I see him already looking my way, wearing his tender eyes and bullshit smile. As I stare back blankly, I slowly lift my hand to scratch at a fake itch on my cheek. All while conveniently placing my middle finger up at him.
Immature? Probably.
But do I feel slightly better? Absolutely.
Okay, so that better feeling lasts about as long as it takes me to spell a-b-s-o-l—
Oh, fuck it.
I was hoping the rewarding gesture would last me through the day, but as I grab another sneak peek, he’s not, as I’d hope, standing there in shock, mad, devastated at my lack of affection. No. He’s all Chase Green, the sweet man, who saves spiders and cries at Hallmark movies. The man who shares meals and offers you the first scoop of freshly buttered popcorn so you get the best mouthful.
He’s the perfect one.
At least he used to be.
I watch him shake hands with a young girl who seems to be in tears at meeting him. I watch him sign her poster, give her a hug, and smile wide for a picture. My stupid, traitorous emotions have me swelling a wee bit with pride at how good he is with people. How kind he is. He doesn’t flaunt himself like some of the other models at the signing do. He isn’t pouring booze down his chest allowing crazed fans to lick it off him just to feel more popular.
It’s the images of him late at night, kissing my neck, caressing my skin, and whispering words of trust and love, once a warmness in my heart, but now ruined because the perfect man I see before me isn’t so fucking perfect. Because those beautiful moments are tainted by memories of his betrayal and lies.
Before I tear my eyes away, he catches me once again. A look of confusion covers his face, mostly due to the fact my facial expression is close to one of a psycho. I look away. Lucky enough, I’m greeted by another reader, and the thoughts of kicking over his table quickly fades in the background. A woman, looking to be in her late forties, comes up to me, holding half a bookstore of books in a rolling crate behind her.
“Oh boy, did you rob a bookstore before you came here?” I ask, smiling and reaching out to help take some of the load she’s carrying off her hands. I put them on my table to properly shake hands and trade introductions.
“You would think. It’s a damn pleasure to meet ya, darlin’. The name’s Leanne.”
I stick my hand out, but she goes straight for the hug.
“Sorry, where I’m from we hug. We’re all friends here.”
I laugh because she’s right. Since the tour began I’ve learned that readers are lifelong friends. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Leanne. Looks like you may have enjoyed my book. Unless you’re here trying to return all these,” I kid. Clearly, I have no idea if someone can return a book at these things.
“Return? Hell no, darlin’, you ain’t getting these books back. They’re like our bible now back down in Shelbyville. Our local bookstore only carries so many books, so I had to purchase all the copies they had from you. Girls from the town over were getting wind of our stock, so it was only a matter of time before the Shelbyville bookstore sold clean out of it.”
“Bible?” Curious to the comparison.
“Oh, honey, the whole town practically read your book. The men dogged it, sorry to admit, them worthless pigs. But it was ’cause they were busted. Us women, oh, honey, it’s changed us. For the better. No more dealings with all the bunkum shit we all put up with. Krista from the grocery store, she used to spend hours on herself fixin’ to meet a man. Now? She’s gotten rid of her makeup. More like clown face as some of us girls used to say, but let me tell ya’ll, she’s a beauty. When she stopped worrying about trying to look all done up for a man, her true self shined on right through. Found herself a nice man at church two weeks later.”
My brows shoot up, humor filling my expression. “Oh, wow. Good for Krista,” I reply.
I shake my head. These are the stories I hear all day. Outside of my little dive bar, the problem with men was a lot bigger than I thought, and these women, they just stood for so much more now.
“Honey, I don’t mean to pry, but that handsome looking boy over there keeps locking his eyes over here. If I was to guess, he may be sweet on you.”
I lift my head from signing one of her books to see Chase staring our way. His hands in his pockets, his eyes directly on me. Once ours meet, he smiles.
Jerk.
“Oh, don’t waste your time on that guy… he’s just a pretty face. I heard…” I lean in, lowering my voice. “He has major performance issues, if you know what I mean.” I pull back, watching her eyes widen, taking another glance Chase’s way.
“Oh my, what a shame. He sure looks like he would be just a pleasant handful in bed.”
Pffft.
As if.
Totally as if… God… don’t go there, Katie.
“Trust me. Girls talk. Don’t get me started on the whole rash—”
“Excuse me, miss?”
We both turn to see Chase standing not two feet from us offering up his addictive smile. I take that moment to give him the death stare, while my new bestie falls right into his trap.
“Why, hello there, cute thing. We were just—”
And I accidently nudge my new friend. Both look my way. “Oops, sorry. She was just saying we were just talking about jerks and how they have no sense in the word trust and honesty.”
“Well, and of course yo—”
Shit.
“Heavens, dear, why do you keep jabbing me?”
“No idea. Anyway, you can go back to your side, model boy.” Please just go away.
No such luck.
“Well, since I did come all the w
ay over here, I was hoping to get a picture with this young lady. You two look so familiar. Is this your sister, Miss Swan?”
I’m going to kill him.
Leanne blushes like a damn school girl. I believe I notice her eyelashes flutter like one too. “Oh no, you sweet thing. I’m old enough to be her mother.”
Oh, here we go.
The theatrics on this guy are ridiculous. I watch Chase’s eyebrows lift in shock, placing his palm to his chest. “No. I don’t believe it.”
And Leanne eats—no, she gobbles it all up.
“Well, I am.”
“I must say, you look fantastic. Do share your secrets.”
Give me a freaking break here! He needs to go. I’m not falling for this sweet guy bullshit. I can sense Leanne is about to confess to Chase all her beauty secrets, so it’s time I step in.
“Mr. Bates. I think it’s time you head on back to your table. Your fans are getting impatient.”
He doesn’t even look at his table. He keeps his attention all on Leanne. Pulling out his phone, he opens an app and goes in for the kill. “Not before I get a picture to remember this day. Do you mind…?”
“Oh, it’s Leanne.”
“Leanne. Beautiful name to match the beautiful lady.”
Dead. Fucking dead.
He turns to my drooling line. “Would you mind taking a picture?” Chase asks the reader in front of the line. A small part of me hopes the girl takes his phone and runs with it like she looks like she’s debating on doing.
Again, no such luck.
Dammit.
She smiles and takes his phone, raising it for the perfect shot.
Just as I step back to allow jerk face and Leanne to get their shot, Chase suddenly reaches out, grabbing my arm. “Oh, I’m gonna need you in it as well, Miss Swan. Me in between two beautiful ladies? My mother wouldn’t even believe me unless I show her the picture to prove it.”
Leanne sighs.
I believe I growl.
I don’t know what he’s trying to pull here, but it’s not going to work. I look around and everyone is watching. Well, watching Chase. Leanne looks at me with the biggest smile on her face, waiting for me to step up and take the photo. It’s just a picture, Katie. I fail at hiding my eye rolling, but I give in and step forward. I go to stand next to Leanne, but I’m pulled to the left, putting Chase between us. His arm goes around her neck and his other around mine. I can’t help but stiffen at the way he’s touching me. Just a picture, Katie. I have to remind myself, otherwise I’ll put too much thought into the way he has his hand gently resting over my shoulder blade. His fingers, on purpose no less, slowly brush against my skin.
Love Broken Page 19