Page 22 of The Good Girl

We’ll see.

Growing up sheltered, I didn't have many friends and definitely not much interaction with men. Ambros had been so nice, listening to me without judgment and making me feel... I don't know, seen? I want to believe he meant what he said and that he was a nice guy because I could really use someone like him in my life.

I walk through the automatic doors and stand on the sidewalk outside Heathrow and breathe in the London air. I can’t believe I’m here. Pulling my suitcase behind me, I wait in line and grab a taxi to my hotel in the West End. Once I’ve checked in, I head up to my room and collapse on the bed in a heap. It’s quiet, just like I wanted it to be. But as I lie here, my mind keeps drifting to a certain biker. After a few minutes, I give up and decide I need to burn off some of this energy. I change into my swimsuit and head to the hotel pool. I swim for an hour, then go back to my room and order room service. Twenty minutes later, my food arrives, and I eat in silence. By the time I’m finished, I can barely keep my eyes open. With a yawn, I pull the blankets back and climb into bed. The moment my head hits the pillow, I’m asleep.

I spend the next week doing all the touristy things. I toured the Tower of London and the British Museum, visited Kensington Palace and Harrods, watch the changing of theguards outside Buckingham Palace, and even checked out Tower Bridge and the London Eye while eating a bunch of amazing food. The portion sizes are bigger than I expected, so it’s a good thing I spent my days walking around the city.

By the time the signing rolls around, I realize I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time to think about anything else.

The signing itself was crazy. Despite my nerves, I loved every moment of it. The first evening was a meet and greet where I got to interact with fellow authors as well as bloggers and influencers who have shared my books far and wide thanks to social media. The meet and greet was a far more intimate arrangement than the actual signing itself which was a full weekend event. It was nothing but organized chaos and as its one of the largest book signing events in the world it felt very much like jumping head first off a cliff but it was worth it. And not nearly as scary as I thought it would be. Getting to meet so many of my readers who were genuinely touched by my words and as protective of my characters as I am meant everything to me and has me itching to get back to writing.

Now that I’ve survived my first signing, I’m excited to plan out my next one.

“So, how was it?”

I turn to Leah, one of the other authors, whose table’s beside mine. “Pretty good. I had no idea how exhausting it would be, though.”

She laughs. “Right? You think, ‘I’ll be sitting all day, how could I possibly get tired?’”

“Yes! Exactly.”

“If you’re anything like me, this much peopling definitely doesn’t help.”

“It so doesn’t.”

She smiles, and I grin as I pack up the last of my things. “You know, since this was a last-minute thing for me, I was worriedI wouldn’t have enough books or swag. But so many people brought their own stuff for me to sign.”

“It’s surreal, isn’t it?”

“It really is. It also made packing up sooo much easier,” I say with a grin.

“Lucky bitch,” she says, making me laugh.

“You need help?”

“Nah, I’m good. Hubs will be here any minute, and I’ll just load him up like a pack mule.”

“Now, why didn’t I think of that?” I tease.

A voice over the speakers announces that we have fifteen minutes left to clear out.

“Crap, I better get back to it. It was nice to meet you, Celeste. Hopefully, I’ll see you on the circuit again.”

“Fingers crossed. And it was nice to meet you too.”

After packing up the last of my things and thanking the organizers, I wheel my stuff out and hail a taxi. I’m so ready to get back to the hotel and slip into a hot bath with my Kindle. And I admit, now that everything is over, I feel a little home sick.

After I pay the driver, I head up to the room and open my laptop on a whim to see if there are any earlier flights home. The plan was to rest and sleep for the next two days, but I just want to go home. As luck would have it there is a few seats available tomorrow so I reschedule my flight before I change my mind.

With that done, I hop into action, packing my things for my now stupidly early flight, leaving out only what I’ll need in the morning.

I place an order for room service and then head into the bathroom to fill the tub, turning the water to just the right temperature and adding some bubble bath. While it fills, I flick through the TV channels until I find the music stations. Settling on some soft Jazz, I turn it up loud enough to listen to in thebathroom but not so loud that the neighbors will bang on the wall.

When there’s a knock, I let room service in and wait for them to leave before I strip and grab my Kindle, leaving the fruit platter for when I get out.

Walking into the bathroom, I step into the tub and sink under the bubbles.

The break away from home has been just what I needed. It gave me the clarity and space to admit that I may have overreacted. Besides, there’s no way Havoc will remember me, so I worked myself up for nothing.

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