“What’s true?” I say. “He’s the guy who remodeled the house and he had to pick up some tools and now he’s leaving.”
She winks at me. “Got it.”
Then she turns to Max. “You stay, hon. I could use your help.”
“I don’t know—” Max’s confusion mirrors mine.
“I’ll pay you five thousand dollars to help my crew set up,” Tomi says. “Come on. It’ll just be an hour or two.”
“I appreciate that but—”
My eyes widen and I smack Max in the arm. “Take the job,” I say. “It’s five thousand dollars!”
He gives me an uncertain look, like he’s telling me he’ll be happy to leave if I want him to. “You sure?”
“It’s five thousand dollars,” I say again. “Do it!”
He laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Okay then.”
“Wonderful,” Tomi says, clapping her hands together once.
The hair and makeup artist’s name is Josh. He’s covered in colorful tattoos, rocks a hot pink ponytail, and has an Australian accent. I feel wholly uncool compared to this entire TV crew of five people who show up in my house, set up big lights on metal stands, and rearrange my furniture to suit their needs.
Max is put to work helping the crew set up and I catch glimpses of him between Josh doing my hair and makeup, although I’m trying not to stare. Josh styles my shoulder length hair into soft beach curls, twisting two strands of hair near my forehead back and pinning them into place like I’m a fairy princess or something. Then he does my makeup using an air brush which is the coolest thing ever, and then he gives me a soft pink lipstick and subtle smoky eyes.
I look fantastic. I look beautiful. I look—not like an author, but like a movie star. I wish I could keep Josh forever and have him do my hair and makeup every day.
The new look gives me confidence. I feel great in my shimmery top and jeans, and comfortable enough to wear the high heel suede ankle boots that I never wear outside my house for fear of falling down in them.
When Zoey arrives, she comes with another entourage of her own. Three women dressed impeccably, ready to rush off at a moment’s notice to fetch Zoey whatever she needs. I listen to her podcast all the time, but hearing her rich, velvety voice in person leaves me a little star-struck.
She gets right to business. We sit, me on the couch and her on a black leather chair the crew brought for her. They’ve also moved my bookshelf to be behind me, I guess to make me look extra literary for the interview.
“Julie Baskins,” Zoey says, holding out her hands toward me.
“Good morning,” I say, hoping my smile looks genuine. “Thank you so much for having me on your show.” I am so keenly aware of the big, terrifying camera that’s watching me, recording me, that everything I do feels faked and awkward. Like I left my real personality in my bed this morning and now the extra professional version of me is here on the couch.
“You made your mark on the publishing world with your Lucky in Love series, which published seven years ago.”
I nod, because it seems like she has more to say.
“But then a few months ago, seemingly out of nowhere, you released a shockingly different type of novel.” Zoey holds up a copy of Love Sucks, book one in my new series. She reads the blurb on the cover. “Rosa Ramirez is a kick-butt hero saving heartbroken women one cheating man at a time.”
“So,” she says, looking pointedly at me. “What made you write the Love Sucks series?”
I give a little shrug. “I wanted something new. When this idea came to me, it sounded fun so I just went with it. Most of my characters in the past were damsels in distress and it’s thrilling writing a character who can stand up for herself.”
“Hmm,” Zoey says, watching me with the untrustworthy eyes of a TV host.
Suddenly I feel like a worm that’s been pinned to a board about to be dissected. Zoey’s eyes narrow just slightly. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of the rumors that quickly spread through the literary-gossip-sphere?”
Literary gossip sphere?
“I don’t…” I swallow, looking to the coffee table. I thought I had a glass of water. Where’s the glass of water?
Zoey smiles. “You were cheated on, Julie. Ouch!” She sucks in air, wincing like she just got pinched. Somehow she manages to still look beautiful while making that face. “I’ve been there too, lady. Trust me. It’s no fun getting cheated on by someone you love.”
I try very hard to look impassive. “That’s in the past.”
