Page 33 of London, Can You Wait?

Eleven

“I’m counting on you to save me from your fangirl kin.” Mark adjusted his belt and smoothed the front of his navy shirt. A final tuck into his skinny jeans, and his smiling eyes returned to Alex.

“You’ll be fine. They adore you.” Alex grinned, resigned. This comic con fell way short of her planned romantic weekend at home, but at least they were together…in between meet-and-greet sessions, autographs, photo ops, and panel discussions. They would make it work.

A loud chant of “Mark! Mark! Mark!” rose above the partition, his impatient fans urging him to make an entrance.

“Hear that? Bonkers.” Laugh lines gathered by his eyes. “Lex—”

“Ready to sign your life away?” A smiley BBC press rep barged in, slapping Mark on the shoulder.

Mark winced with a barely audible gasp. It passed his lips so quickly, the BBC guy didn’t clue in, but Alex did. Her heart kicked up its pace. What was that?

“I haven’t seen so many fans queuing for autographs since Cumberbatch.” The rep laughed. “Got your game face on?”

Mark’s posture was tense, but his smile suggested otherwise. He shot Alex a confident look. “Let’s do this!”

A bubbly con employee rushed over, his toothy smile and earnest eyes reminiscent of a children’s TV host. “Showtime, Mr. Keegan. Follow me, please.”

He pulled back the curtain and Mark ducked through, his beaming smile welcomed by a roar of voices from the surging crowd. He sat beside a con employee in a yellow t-shirt and with a simple hello and handshake, he magically turned her pale complexion bright pink.

Alex followed, lingering in the opened curtain, not sure where to go. The publicist stood beside her.

“Mark saved my neck, stepping in like this.” The BBC suit nodded. “I didn’t think we could get anyone to replace you-know-who on such short notice. When I called Mark Thursday, I really didn’t expect he’d say yes. If I were dangling from cable cars all week, I would be chilling on my weekend off.”

Alex sighed. “Exactly.”

He returned his attention to the line, now double in size. “Want a coffee, tea?”

“No, thanks. I’m going to wander.”

“Smart. These signing sessions are bum-numbingly boring.” He vanished through the curtain.

Alex’s furrowed gaze darted through the swarm. How would Mark deal with all of this? She had seen him handle a few fans on the street or a crowd of thirty or so program-clutching girls at a stage door, but nothing compared to this disorganized con chaos threatening to engulf his tiny table.

She tightened her grip on the strap of her bag. Is it hot in here? Her fuzzy black sweater stuck to her chest. She glanced at Mark—he wasn’t sweating—and then back at the crowd, her heartbeat echoing in her ears.

Cancel that…

Never mind Mark—how would she deal with all this? The noisy, demanding mob, a beast boasting hundreds of prying eyes and just as many expectations rattled her like she was a cornered animal. Time seemed to slow to an unbearable crawl and yet, her chest pounded quickly as if in a race it was desperate to win. Each gasp from her lips grew short and increasingly shallow, mimicking a hectic response that was becoming all too familiar again.

Fuck! Not here! Not in front of all these people…how…how do I get OUT of here?She swallowed heavily as the room swayed around her.

Crap, everyone’s looking at me.

Texting ‘marmalade’ was no use here, not now.

Mark turned around and smiled sweetly, beckoning her forward.

Mark…thinks everything is okay. I can’t let him think it isn’t…I can’t do that to him.A false grin stretched her lips.

He didn’t see through Alex’s act and turned back to his Keeganites.

Everything will be okay, right? If Mark believes it, I should, too…

You…can do this…

She focused on her boyfriend, not the mob…perhaps it was her best chance at riding out this attack?