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“No,” she said, “that one’s clearly reserved for the guy sitting on top of the New York Times list.”
Chris still hesitated, but Dwayne gestured for him to sit there, so he awkwardly lowered himself into the seat. Then he turned for his first look at the audience, which was…
Full. Every seat was full, and people stood along the back.
Yeah, that’s what you get when you’re on a panel with Tara Palmer and Dwayne Foster.
He was so not prepared for this.
“I believe you are in my seat,” a voice said.
Chris almost scrambled up. Then he saw who it was—the older author who’d come in last.
Tara tapped Chris’s leg as if to keep him from rising. “No, Bruce. He’s in his seat.”
Chris checked the man’s name tag. Bruce Buck. He didn’t recognize the name.
“That is my seat,” Bruce said. “As the—”
“—oldest guy here?” Dwayne said.
Bruce scowled at him. “Author with the longest career.”
Tara cleared her throat.
“The most prestigious career,” Bruce added.
Dwayne choked on a laugh, and Chris decided he really liked Dwayne. And he did not like Bruce Buck.
The woman on the end spoke up, her voice almost too soft to be heard. “Mr. Remington’s book is number one on the Times list right now. He should sit there.”
When Chris looked over, she smiled shyly and fluttered her fingers in a wave.
“Did he tell you that?” Bruce snapped. “He’s lying. I read the lists every week. Jeff Kinney is camped out on middle grade, and on the Young Adult it’s some girl whose name I can’t pronounce.”
Tara pronounced it perfectly, but Bruce ignored her.
Someone from the staff whispered, “Five minutes. Take your seats please,” but the authors ignored him.
“Mr. Remington’s book is on the adult list,” said the young woman on the end.
Bruce scowled. “This is a panel for children’s books.”
Tara took the book from Chris’s hand and passed it over. Bruce examined the cover. Frowned.
“The protagonist is a teenager,” Chris said. “It’s definitely YA. I’m not sure why the publisher insisted on marketing it as an adult book.”
“Because the adult market is bigger and more prestigious,” Tara said. “And as a man, you can get away with it.”
“As a white man,” Dwayne added.
Bruce rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t start that nonsense.”
“Dwayne’s right,” Chris said. “It makes a difference.” He glanced at Dwayne. “Sorry.”
“Because your publisher gave your book a better shot at success?” Dwayne said. “Not your fault. I’d take it, too.”
“He’s Canadian,” Tara said. “Ignore the unnecessary apologies.”
