A Reason to Forget (The Camdyn Series Book 3)

by Christina Coryell

  The TV in the room came on to signal the beginning of the show, and I smoothed my dress over my hips as I stood there awkwardly.

  “How do I look?” I questioned Cole, who calmly appraised me from his seat on the white couch. Staring in the mirror, I checked my reflection from my red stilettos up to my black and white sleeveless fitted leopard print dress, finally raising my eyes to my face, where my voluminous curls were held back on one side with a simple black pin.

  “Like a movie star,” he answered, shooting me that smile. Sighing loudly, I turned to face the television, taking a good look at Tilly Lamont. Her red hair was braided up one side and pulled into a rather messy updo. She was gossiping about a couple of Hollywood starlets, with their pictures on a screen just above her right shoulder. With a white button-up shirt and black skinny jeans, she had her leg pulled up into the chair with her, and she looked like she felt at home on her set.

  “I’m overdressed,” I assessed, not taking my eyes off her.

  “Stop obsessing,” Cole insisted, standing up and taking my hand.

  “Two minutes,” someone said, accompanied by a knock on the door.

  “That’s my cue,” Cole replied, bringing my hand up and kissing it. “I’ll be right there, cheering for you, okay?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, as he slid his fingers away from mine and opened the door, smiling at me one more time. Then, suddenly, I was alone.

  “Coming up next,” Tilly’s chiming voice rang, “you are going to meet C.W. Oliver for the first time, live and in person. Trust me, you don’t want to miss this. Back in a minute.”

  God, help me. And please don’t let me be sick.

  Before I knew it, I was waiting in the wings, after following someone I didn’t know into a very uncomfortable holding area. Wiping my palms against my thighs, I tried to give myself a pep talk.

  Just relax, Camdyn. But not too much. I mean, don’t be all, “Hey, Tilly, what’s up?” I mean, stop shaking. She’s just a normal person. You don’t have problems talking to normal people.

  Actually, sometimes I kind of do have problems talking to normal people. Most of the time, in fact.

  This pep talk isn’t working.

  “Now, folks, I told you that you were not going to want to miss this,” I heard Tilly’s voice come from just beyond. “You know C.W. Oliver as the bestselling author of novels such as The General’s Wife and A Trail of Heartaches, but do you really know C.W. Oliver? The answer is no, because up until today, nobody did. Here today, though, the veil is finally going to be lifted. Prepare yourselves – trust me – your mind will be blown.” There was some weird music, and I furrowed my brow from my vantage point just out of sight. “Without further adieu, I present to you, C.W. Oliver.”

  Deep breath.

  Stepping around the corner, I walked into that bright room, hearing my heels hit the floor and the hushed gasps of the audience. A few eventually started clapping, but most just looked sincerely shocked. I caught a glimpse of Cole when I was almost fully to Tilly where he sat on the front row next to Lex, and he nodded his encouragement. With a slight smile, I turned my attention to my red-haired host, who grabbed me by both elbows and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.

  She didn’t really kiss me – just sort of came toward me and kissed the air – but I had seen it on TV enough to know that was the illusion she was trying to create, so I went with it like I was a pro. I only felt slightly idiotic.

  “Wow,” she breathed, looking at the audience. “I mean, come on, are you shocked? I’m shocked.” She swept her arm toward me, gesturing from my head to my toes, and widened her eyes. “Common consensus was that you are a guy named Ted, but I am guessing you are not Ted.”

  “Definitely not,” I stated as she motioned for me to sit. Settling into a cream colored overstuffed loveseat, I perched myself near the edge and crossed my ankles, trying to appear professional.

  “We have assembled an audience of your most ardent fans, because we wanted to see their reaction, and I think I can safely surmise that they didn’t see this coming,” Tilly continued. “Did you all see this coming?” I looked out at that crowd of people who were shaking their heads adamantly, and I bit my lip. Suddenly there was music playing that I think was from The Twilight Zone, and instinctively I hung my head a bit.

  "So, just in case you were wondering,” Tilly kept on, “this stunning young lady is not Ted. Her name is Camdyn Taylor.” Camdyn Parker. Sheesh. “Camdyn, it’s a pleasure to have you here, and thank you for choosing us to make your big debut.”

  “Absolutely,” I stated breezily. “It’s wonderful to be here.”

  “Okay,” she almost interrupted, “I have to be perfectly honest. I read your book. I hardly ever read peoples’ books, is that terrible? I pretend that I have, but I never do.”

  “Well, thank you, that’s very flattering,” I told her, as she drew her legs up and crossed them beneath her in the chair as though she was sitting in her own living room.

  “I saw your picture on the back, and I immediately thought, ‘This is huge.’ And your book, it touched me, you know? It really got to me.”

  “That’s really…”

  “It’s a great book,” she blurted, looking out at the audience. “I don’t need to tell you all to get this book, because you already have it under your seats.” A loud roar of applause rose then, and I managed to smile at Tilly even though she was making me a little uncomfortable with all her interruptions. Some strange music started playing then, and she said something a little nonsensical, but the way the audience responded, I assumed it must have been something she did often.

  “Okay, now I have to tell you about my favorite part of the book,” she said, turning to me again. “When she gets to Tennessee, and the field, and the sun… You know what I’m talking about. I can’t give the story away, but you know…”

  “Of course.”

  “But that wasn’t my absolute favorite part,” she blurted, opening my book on her lap. “’Finally, to Cole, I have to say simply that the night you rescued me forever changed the course of my life. I might have been dripping wet, climbing out of my trunk, bleeding from the head, acting completely insane, but somehow you saw past those things and made me feel like I was the only girl in the world.’ Who is this Cole and where can I find him?”

  “Oh,” I chuckled, feeling myself blush just a bit. “Cole is actually my husband, and you can find him right about there.” I pointed out into the crowd at my husband, whose eyes had gotten slightly wider, right as he shook his head to avoid what was coming. Tilly uncrossed her legs and began to sit like a normal person for a moment, leaning forward as she gawked at my man.

  “Well, hello gorgeous,” she crooned, giving me an accusatory look as though I had been hiding him or something. “We’re going to have to take a break, because I need to get that beautiful man mic’d up and get him up here. We’ll be right back.”

  Suddenly two people were hovering over him, and again I felt a wave of nausea pass over me. He had been so wonderful coming here to support me, and he was getting sucked into this mess of an interview. Had she even asked me a question yet? Well, besides the whole wondering who Cole was diversion. That woman was scatterbrained and jittery and couldn’t maintain a thought process for more than a few seconds, tops.

  “He just made you a lot more interesting,” Tilly said, grabbing my arm. “Not that you aren’t – I’m sure you are. Mostly women watch this show, though, and you happened to bring a hunky guy along, so bonus points for you.” They had the back of his purple dress shirt untucked and were fitting him with a microphone, and I could practically see the discomfort on his face.

  “Please, I’m begging you, don’t embarrass him,” I requested, watching as her red-tinted lips broke into a smile.

  “Psh, why would I do that?” she asked, standing up and waving him over. He reluctantly walked up those steps and stood next to the loveseat for a minute, looking conflicted. As soon as I gazed up at him and mouth
ed words to tell him I was sorry, though, he stared solemnly into my eyes for only a second before he lowered himself beside me, grabbing my hand to indicate that everything was okay. In fact, while Tilly was trying to get the audience to cheer a little louder, he leaned over to me and put his mouth close to my ear.

  “I’m pretty sure I didn’t sign up for this,” he whispered. Hanging my head a bit, I came as close as I could to him and rested my cheek close to his ear.

  “You’re amazing, you know that?” I wondered quietly. “I’m so sorry about all this.”

  “And we’re back with C.W. Oliver, aka Camdyn Taylor, and her husband, Cole,” Tilly announced, pulling her knee up against her chest and twisting so she faced us. “Thank you for joining us, Cole, and for being here to support Camdyn.” With a noticeable sigh, Cole sat back and stretched his arm behind me along the top of the loveseat, lifting his foot and placing it casually on his knee as though he was right at home.

  “There’s no need to thank me,” Cole stated matter-of-factly, resting his free hand on the knee of his dark-wash jeans. “It’s my pleasure to support this woman, because not only is she the absolute love of my life, but she’s an incredible writer, and this book is really great.”

  “Gosh, the love of his life,” Tilly sighed, “did you hear that, people? Do you have a brother, Cole? I’m serious.”

  “No brother,” Cole added with a smile, as I glanced over at that beguiling grin and wondered who in the world had stolen the body of my husband. He should have been uncomfortable and secretly angry with me, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.

  “So, Cole, do you help her write the books?” Tilly wanted to know, placing her chin on her hand and staring deeply at my husband.

  Does he help me write my books? Are you kidding me right now?

  “Um, no, that would definitely not be a good idea,” he laughed. “Camdyn and I did do a little bit of the research together. The book’s subject happens to be her fifth great-grandmother, and we met when her research brought her to my hometown.”

  “There are going to be a lot of women digging into their family history tonight, am I right ladies?” Tilly looked out to the audience with a smirk. “Personally, I might be researching Camdyn’s grandmother myself.”

  She is brazenly flirting with my husband right in front of my face. I really am in The Twilight Zone.

  “Definitely, you should all research Willa tonight, in the form of that book you’re holding,” Cole addressed the audience. “I guarantee you will not be disappointed.”

  “He personally guarantees it,” Tilly stated, sighing at my husband.

  Yes, that is correct – she looked over at him and audibly sighed, and I wanted to kick her. Or launch my red stiletto at her. Or pounce at her like a wild animal…

  Instead, I forced myself to smile sweetly and pretended like her antics weren’t affecting me in the least. Glancing into the audience, I politely smiled at them to avoid looking at that red-haired viper. In that instant, I believed I saw a very familiar face.

  “Tilly, may I have permission to address your audience?” I blurted, disrupting her stare-fest with my husband.

  “Sure, sweetie,” she answered, as though I was a child and wanted a lollipop. Rising to my feet, I stepped to the edge of the loveseat and placed my hands on my hips as I gazed out at that swarm of women watching me expectantly.

  “Tracy, from Uncovering Oliver,” I began, staring out at a woman I had pinpointed in the crowd. “That is you, isn’t it?” Singling out my self-proclaimed biggest fan seemed like a win for me in the midst of that wacky interview, and I crossed my fingers against my hip in hopes that I actually was looking at Tracy.

  “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” the bespectacled, reed-thin young woman with long straight brown hair began chanting, bouncing up and down on her feet. “That’s me! She’s talking about me!” As people began chuckling quietly, I turned to glance at my host.

  “Tilly, there is a blog out there called Uncovering Oliver, and it has been going strong for two years now,” I informed her, still standing. “Tracy is my self-described biggest fan. She’s been trying to discover C.W. Oliver’s secret identity, so I know being here today is gigantic for her. What will you do now, Tracy?” She laughed nervously and pushed her glasses farther up her nose, looking to her left and right and shrugging her shoulders.

  “I can’t believe you’re talking to me,” she said. “Not you, exactly, because I never would have thought you were you, but… This is so cool!”

  “All the ladies around Tracy,” I mentioned, motioning to them with my fingers, “can you move just a bit and let her out of there? That woman needs to come up and shake my hand.” Tracy danced excitedly in front of her seat for a second as others scooted out of her way, and then she was off like a rocket, barreling towards me down the aisle. I took one step down toward her, but rather than clasping my outstretched hand, she threw her arms around me and began the bouncing thing again.

  “Oh my gosh,” she repeated rather breathlessly. “I need a minute. Wow, this is so cool. Hi, Tilly!” She stretched around me to wave at our hostess, and I merely laughed as I placed my arm across her shoulders, only able to do so with the assistance of the boost-up from my stilettos, as she was several inches taller than me.

  “Now, Tracy,” I blurted, before Tilly could work her way back into the conversation, “I have to know – did you really go to Mount Vernon to see if anyone there knew who I was? That is some first-rate detective sleuthing.”

  “Yes, I did, and it’s so embarrassing,” she admitted, turning slightly red under the lights. “No one would give me anything, and I hung around there for three days determined to dig something up. In the end, only one person would admit to seeing the same person hanging around, and he said it was a pretty college student working on a thesis. I’ll bet that was you.” Chuckling, I nodded at the audience.

  “I did pretend to be a college student while I was at Mount Vernon,” I informed them. “One of my many secret identities. You fished me out, Tracy – you just didn’t know it.” Overcome with excitement, she hugged me again quickly before she returned to her seat. Rather than sit down, though, I watched as Tracy returned up the aisle, and my heart skipped a beat when I recognized another face in that crowd – Sybil Brantley, my main source of information on Willa.

  “Austen Book League, from Louisville, would you stand up please?” Fighting the urge to giggle, I watched as several ladies glanced at one another with wide eyes before they rose from their seats, staring at me in disbelief. With only a second’s hesitation, I moved down those steps and walked up the aisle, coming closer to them. “Which of you are Alberta and Sue Ellen?” Even had they not said a word, I would have known immediately because they looked directly at each other and pointed. Stopping before I reached their row, I shook the hand of a little girl who looked to be about ten, who was sitting next to her mother and clutching my book in her arms. She smiled up at me, and I gave her a quick wink before I moved forward.

  “Alberta and Sue Ellen, how did you know that one day I would, indeed, show up on Sybil’s doorstep looking for information?” I teased them, as they continued to look at me in surprise. “She almost wouldn’t let me in the door, did you know that? She thought it was some elaborate practical joke you two were pulling.”

  “We wouldn’t do that.”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Well, it all turned out okay, in the end,” I stated, reaching out to shake their hands in turn. “The rest is history. Or, I should say, the rest is historical fiction, right?” They laughed, and I continued shaking hands down that line. “Thank you so much for being here today. Ah, Sybil, you were a life saver, you know that?” I leaned across one of her friends to give Sybil a quick hug, and she responded by displaying a bigger smile than I knew she could exhibit.

  “They made me the head of the book league,” she told me proudly.

  “As well you should be,” I replied, straightening back up to my full h
eight. “Thank you ladies.”

  Turning, I shook a couple more hands as I walked back toward the stage, where Tilly and Cole waited, both with their attention completely focused on me. Cole was giving me a sly little smile, but Tilly was actually furrowing her brow at me a bit. It probably wasn’t very smart of me to hijack the show like that, but she was flirting with my man, so that should have entitled me to some sort of compensation.

  “Wait a minute…” Tilly stated slowly, gesturing with her hands as I moved back to my position seated next to Cole, “you know your fans’ names and faces like that?”

  “Of course I know my fans,” I assured her, looking back out at that crowd. “I write my books for Tracy, and for Alberta and Sue Ellen, and for every other person who takes the time to read my words and let the world know how they make them feel. And for Sybil, I painstakingly research every detail, because she will know what color the large dining room is at Mount Vernon, so I better get it right. There are hundreds of Sybils and Tracys out there, and I am grateful for every one of them. That’s why today is so special to me, because for the first time, I can publicly tell all of you thank you. You have been absolutely incredible in your support of C.W. Oliver, and I hope you will be equally as supportive now that you know that I’m Camdyn Taylor.”

  “They will,” Tilly added, nodding her head. “They will, I can tell. We’re going to take a quick break, but we will be back with Camdyn Taylor, so stay put.” Immediately, the crew started milling around, and a man indicated that he was taking our loveseat, so Cole and I stood awkwardly.

  “Set stage for audience trivia,” one of the crew members ordered.

  “No!” Tilly stated forcefully. “Change of plans. Ad lib karaoke.”

  “Come on, Tilly,” the guy rolled his eyes, standing in front of me. “We only do that when the comedians are here.”