AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It starts next week.”
“What?” Now Chris was the one wincing because that was not a Zane exclamation. He cleared his throat. “Next week, you say? I was told it would be fall. August, at the absolute earliest. I know it takes time to set these up with the bookstores.”
“Well, they’re making it happen. Strike while the iron’s hot, and it’s scorching right now. I just got a text about a video? Something about a grizzly bear?”
“Ah, yes. That.”
“That is going viral, and after the tour was arranged.”
Chris glanced over to see Daphne’s total panic. She’d parsed out enough from his side of the conversation to understand what was happening.
Chris said, “Let me have a look at your email and—”
“I can give you the details. We really need to get moving on this.”
“I understand. However, this isn’t a good time to talk. I have”—his gaze touched on Daphne’s sweater, balled up on his lap—“a nosebleed.” A Zane chuckle. “Yes, terribly embarrassing, but I bopped my nose, and there is blood. I really do need to call you back.”
“Ten minutes?”
“Fifteen.”
“Fine.”
DAPHNE
Daphne forwarded Lawrence’s email to Chris. Then they set up a timer on the kitchen table and read it over.
Eight minutes remaining.
There was a tour. Not this fall, but starting next week in Los Angeles. Launching at the LA Times Festival of Books. Wasn’t that usually in April? May? Not this year, apparently. This was why they were scrambling to arrange a last-minute tour. Because they’d scored a vacated seat on a panel at one of the world’s most prestigious book festivals.
She couldn’t say no to that. Yes, being last minute, excuses were possible. That’s why Lawrence was so eager to talk. He was making sure Zane was free.
She could come up with an excuse, and that would be just fine… if she wanted to piss off the LAT Book Fest and the stores that had been ready to host Zane. Not to mention upsetting her publicist and publisher.
Zane wouldn’t care. If a last-minute tour was inconvenient, he’d cancel. But Zane wasn’t actually the author of At the Edge of the World. If he were, he wouldn’t give a damn how well it sold because he was the kind of author who only cared about reviews and awards. Not gross material concerns like sales. If his publisher was upset about him refusing a tour? Well, that’s what happens to real artists, isn’t it? They get steamrolled by the man and his petty concerns.
In that regard, Daphne was the polar opposite of Zane, and the sort of writer he’d turn his nose up at. Such a hack, always thinking about money. Except regular writers—who did not have trust funds or successful spouses—needed to think about money, and authors like Daphne worried about damaging their careers because they wanted to have a career.
Maybe it’d be different as Zane. Maybe the creative-genius schtick would work. Maybe no one really expected a man to make himself available at the last minute, scrambling to accommodate everyone else’s plans.
And maybe no one expected her to make herself available at the last minute, either. She could be completely overreacting, letting herself fall prey to the horror stories about publishing, which she now knew to be grossly exaggerated, if not altogether false.
Would she take that chance, though? No. Turning down the tour wasn’t an option.
Unless she had to. Because there was a very important part of the equation she’d forgotten.
“Could you do it?” she said to Chris. “I didn’t even ask—”
“I can, but I’d like to ask you to do something, too.”
Her gaze slid to the timer. He turned it around so they weren’t watching the countdown.
“Come with me,” he said.
She blinked.
“Come on the tour. Please.” He leaned across the table. “I know it’s not your thing. I know this is why you hired me, and if you need me to do this alone, I will.” He met her gaze. “But I’d rather do it with you.”
