Page 45 of The Book Signing

Her voice gets louder, as her anger rises, leading to some guests turning their heads toward our table.

“Calm down, Abi.” I lean forward, looking around, hoping she would get the hint. “And also, just want to clear things up here. I don’t just fuck and run. Whoever gets in bed with me knows whatthey’re in for. A good time with me and that’s all. Don’t fucking jump to conclusions that I’m some man who sticks it into any woman and then ruins her life when it’s their choice.”

She crosses her arms and smirks at me. “Choices. You’re right.” She stands up, grabs her phone, chucks it in her bag, then says, “My choice is to walk away from a playboy who likes to recite his experience in what he calls books.” She turns but then spins back and adds, “Oh, and it’s Abigail!” and then storms out, leaving an empty plate and me sitting here. I don’t know whether to be mad or shocked at her unexpected rage, but it’s getting embarrassing as other guests’ glance at me and back to the door that Abigail is rushing to. I clench my fists and shake my head as I absorb how much she wanted to distance herself from me.

“Fuck,” rumbles out of me, as I glance back at the door that Abigail disappeared through.

I don’t know whether I should go after her… unsure of what to say if I were to confront her. She slammed the door on the possibility of even staying friends, too.

Friend zone. Nope, not going there.

The thought makes me shiver.

I eat the food in silence, and on my lonesome as scrambled eggs make their way into my mouth,followed by the pancakes. Although despite the delicious way they smell, it’s not comparable to the scent that lingers on Abigail’s neck, the scent of vanilla. Not to mention the fragrance of her peach shampoo, or the way she moans when I make her feel good. Okay, that’s not a scent, but the memory makes me semi hard.

A chime from my cell makes the image fade and I take it out of my pocket.

Greg: The Q & A Day starts at 10.00 am and will go on for an hour to an hour and a half. Are you ready? I’ve got you ten hard copies and some vouchers for free e-books to push your marketing as a sending off present for your fans.

Greg sure knows good timing, reminding me the sole purpose of why I’m here in the first place. What I need to focus on. Which also includes brainstorming the next book. It irks me that Abi doesn’t see there is more to me than just sex with ladies. That I have a set of brains along with balls. Maybe I advertise the latter, but still.

I respond after a few seconds, trying to shrug off the feeling of insecurity.

Me: Sounds good.

Greg: I like the idea of gifting both hard copies and E-Books.

Me: Thanks.

Greg’s ping is quick, much to my surprise, as he usually takes his sweet time to get back to me.

Greg: Fuck, I hate the way you can’t simply say everything in one message. You’re the reason my phone goes on silent without vibrate.

I can’t help but smirk at his comment.

Me: Sorry, I’ll do my best to adapt to texting your way. So, will you be meeting me right before I begin, or will you be amongst everyone?

I wait for a little longer than I expected until finally his response comes through.

Greg: I’m going to be a little late, need to make a quick stop to do an errand, and then I’ll see you inside. I’ve got your back!

Me: Okay, I’ll see you later.

Me: Don’t get up to any mischief.

The text seems like we are jesting, but truth be told, I’m a little surprised and annoyed that he won’t be there from the start. However, there isn’t much I can do about it, so I decide not to respond.

I finish the rest of my breakfast–which is now cold–and lift my sorry ass off the chair, needing to get out of the restaurant to clear my head before I start the day.

ABIGAIL

“Argh” I hiss, adjusting my sunglasses as the glaring sunset hits my eyes. The only good thing is that the warmth it radiates is pleasant. Well, not so pleasant when I compare it to the mood I’m in.

I make my way, breathing in and out, trying my best to calm my nerves, to the function room where I see a few people setting up. A man and a woman in staff uniform nod and smile as they move a table and chair inside for me to sit at for signing. The same lady that was managing the North Queensland Writer’s Festival, Amy, is back again and greets me.

The happy and calm atmosphere brightens my sour mood, and I grin. A genuine grin.

I place my bag beside the chair and pour myself a glass of water, taking a seat and enjoy watching the room transform. From empty to a cute, relaxing area for people to remember that they are special and good. That they deserve to be loved and treated well.

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