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Signing, today, 5.30p.m.
I check my watch as an irrational sense of panic makes my insides judder. She must be here now. Thumping my chest in a King Kong-esque way to kill the erratic beat beneath, I head in search of Cady.
Not seeing her on the ground floor, I move upstairs.
At the far end of the store, next to the café, I spot Izzy. She’s alone, sitting behind a table, with her phone in her hand and a stack of her books at her side. Her head is down and she seems to sigh as her fingers move across her cell screen.
My stomach becomes weightless. She’s an ass, I know. A beautiful ass but still a self-important ass. But her conversation with Kerry today, the way she stood, defeated, and now, seeing her alone at the table, I don’t know, maybe it melts my iron heart or something.
I don’t know how long I stand there watching her, hoping someone will take a book to her and ask her to sign it. I contemplate going myself, but she’s more likely to think I’m gloating than genuinely asking her to sign a book I’ll never read.
As if she senses me gawking, she raises her head. I panic, shuffling right, then dart left behind a shelf of books. I pin my back to the shelf, panting, as if I’ve just run a record time in the New York Marathon.
‘Dad, what are you doing?’
I roll my head to the right and see Cady. My eyes quickly follow hers to the label on the shelf in front of her.
‘Erotic romance!’ I exclaim.
‘Dad, shut up. Jesus!’
I’m at her side in a flash and see theFifty Shadestrilogy in her hands. She needn’t know I’ve actually read the thing. No one needs to know that. But in light of the fact I have read it…
‘No way!’ I take the books from her hands and plant them back on the shelf.
‘I’m not five, Dad. I do know what sex is.’
Christ. ‘And if some boy sees you reading that stuff, he’s going to think it’s an open invitation to take a flogger to your ass. Let’s go.’
‘Oh my God. How do you even know what a flogger is?’
Am I allowed to laugh in this situation?
‘Out. Now.’ I turn her by the shoulders and fight my smirk behind her back as I guide her down the staircase and out to the street.
‘Oh, Meghan’s there. See you, Dad.’
Just like that, I’m abandoned on Fifth Avenue, my face uncharacteristically burning red for more than one reason.
I take out my cell phone and dial Sarah.
‘Hey, you!’ she answers. ‘What’s up?’
‘Hey, Sarah. Could you do me a favor?’
‘Name it.’
‘Could you maybe round up a few friends and head to Barnes & Noble on Fifth Avenue? The, ah, salsa guru you like has a signing there. I… I don’t even know why I’m asking but could you go get a book signed? I’ll buy it. Get one for Becky and Madge too. Or, better, take them if they can get here like, yesterday.’
‘Uh, I’m going to ask you more about this later but sure, I can do that.’
8
IZZY
This is mortifying. Maybe my parents were right. God, if they could see me now. That song pops into my head, ‘If My Friends Could See Me Now,’ from the musicalSweet Charity. Except, if my friends could see me now, I’m not eating fancy chips and drinking fancy wine. No, I’m sitting at a table in Barnes & Noble on Fifth Avenue, feeling utterly embarrassed. One book. From the stack of twenty on the table and the box full of additional copies hidden by my feet, I’ve sold and signedonecopy of my book.
‘It’s one signing, Izzy. And it’s your first one. We’ll work on more promo,’ Kerry tells me, returning from wherever she disappeared to ten minutes ago.
