Page 9 of Bending The Rules

I looked down at my feet as Justin ended his call.

“You ready to go?” he asked, and I nodded as I lifted my head.

But neither of us moved. Instead, we stared.

“You look amazing,” he said, breaking the silence.

“So do you.”

Again, neither of us said anything for several moments, and Justin pushed his hands into his pockets.

“Toni… I—”

“I just want to get us through this signing,” I interrupted, holding up my hands. “We only have a few weeks, and we have these last details to work out. I think we should focus on that. Just that.”

He pushed out a harsh sigh, but nodded.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

~

Things were awkward.

Ihatedwhen things were awkward, but it was 100% more annoying for things to be awkward with someone that was supposed to be my friend. That was another thing that kept playing in my head –we were supposed to still be friends. We’d put in the work to build something that was intended to be lifelong, and it had gotten all messed up.

Because of him.

Hmmmm…. This was a good path for my mind to take, as we walked the short distance to the restaurant. It reminded me that I was pissed at him.

First for the betrayal, then for the dream, now for these annoying ass feelings coursing through me. His list of offenses was adding upfast.

He held the door for me when we got the restaurant, which was gentlemanly – he always had been – but then I caught his reflection in the mirrors that flanked the hostess stand. His eyes had gone to – hadstuckto – my ass as I passed him, which brought a fresh round of heat to my face.

I averted my gaze as he approached the stand to get us a table. A few moments later, we were seated, and had drink orders put in.

“Okay, so let’s get right to it, shall we?” I asked, pulling my tablet from my laptop bag to take notes. “I’m assuming you already have banners, table signage, all of that. But, if Tones & Tomes is hosting this signing, I don’t want the Lion Literary name or logo on anything. Your books being the exception, because there’s no way around that.”

Justin raised an eyebrow. “I… don’t know if that’s going to be possible. They’re my publisher, and they’re paying for this signing, which I already had to damn near beg for. I can’t tell them they can’t put their name on it – they want their name on everything. Hell, I’d have their logo tattooed on my forehead if it were up to them.”

I shrugged. “I don’t care what they want. The store will pay for it.”

Justin pulled his head back, surprised. “It will?”

“Yes. We’ve already done the marketing, gotten the word out, placed the catering orders, and everything else. Paying for a few signs won’t be a problem. But we’re not hosting Lion Literary, who I want no affiliation with. We’re hostingyou. So that’s where the focus should be.”

“I’ll at least make the request—”

“No, don’t ask them for anything. Except for maybe a few special edition hardcovers that you can use for a giveaway, unless you have some at home. The store has already ordered paperbacks to have in stock. If you have any other swag – tote bags, pens, buttons, tee shirts, anything else, we’ll need that, as long as they don’t have Lion branding on them.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have any specific accommodations that you need? A certain brand of water in your dressing room?”

“Dressing room?” he asked, eyebrow raised. “I’m getting a dressing room?”

I stopped typing on the tablet to look up. “Yes… we’re working on consolidating the storage at the store, and by the time of the signing, there will be an empty office that we’ll use moving forward as a space for authors to have some peace. Signings can get hectic when you’re popular, and you’re a hometown hero around here. You’ll need it. Unless you don’t want it?”

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s not that at all. I’ve just never gotten that accommodation, unless it was a TV appearance.”

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