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That was all we were given, unfortunately, or fortunately, as I want to make sure I look good fortonight. Not that it’s a date. But it doesn’t hurt to make sure I’m bubble bathed up.
I stand up and lean over the table, with my marker ready as the first person slides over his book.
“You’ve been an inspiration to me. I’ve been down your road before and now much better.” Then he points to the corner and says, “I’d love it if you could write something here.”
“Sure,” I say, although it sounds like a squeal. I get the marker and writeGlad to have helped you on your journey of rediscovery. Abigail Rosens xx.
The smile that grows on his face melts my heart and reminds me why it’s worth attending the book signings.
By the time the line lessens, my hand is hurting. Most people ask for specific things to write which takes up time but I’m always happy to do it.
“I’m so thankful to have come across your book. Men are scum and your story has helped me see everything I’ve been going through. I know it’s difficult to change. Maybe I can one day. I still think most of the issues are because of them.”
My mouth drops as the woman stands there, going on a rant about my book, but with a misunderstanding of my message.
I want to tell her she’s wrong. Men aren’t scum, and the book is about my issues, and my mistakes. How I rediscovered myself.
However, I don’t let her see that I disagree with her opinion and her overall view is disheartening. Instead, I take a deep breath and smile.
Books are subjective, and everyone takes things from them differently. This woman just sounds bitter.
I change the subject before I let my opinion slip. “Would you like a photo?”
“Sure!” she says, her bitter demeanor changing. We quickly take a selfie before she bounces off.
Soon, the pile of books and pre-orders disappear and the line ends, marking a successful book signing.
Extremely pleased with the outcome in just an hour and a half, I make sure there is nothing left on the table and then grab my things. I thank Dean once more when I see him getting ready for the next author’s book signing and a note to thank Amy as well for organizing it.
As I walk out to the lobby, I put myself into my bubble. My habit of decompressing, and not focusing on anything or anyone except myself. I walk directly to my hotel room, inhaling the scentof salt water and sun scream as I make my way there.
It was a shame that Jaxon didn’t get to see me in my moment of fame because I find pride in it and love the experience. Seeing the beaming smiles on people’s faces never grows old.
Once I’m inside my room, I wipe off my makeup and undo my hair, letting the pink waves fall against my back. A warm bubble bath is all I want after this morning and with the amazing one that’s sitting in the bathroom, I’m keen to sink into it.
Making my way into the bathroom, I turn on the taps and strip, then add some bubbles. As the water reaches a little above halfway of the tub, I switch off the taps and climb inside, where the water is warm and perfect.
“Ah,” a satisfied moan tumbles out of me.
I lean back and close my eyes, letting my body unwind.
I’ve got heaps of time before I meet Jaxon, so in the meantime, I’ll indulge in soaking in the bathtub.
Might even indulge in thinking of him whilst I’m in it too.
Chapter Eighteen
JAXON
Fucking finally.
I’ve had enough of Greg and the sun. I need a woman because staring at my reflection is tiresome. Not that I’m complaining, because sitting at the cabana with cold beers as we checked out chicks was a great pastime. Except whilst he was going on about fucking them, and actually trying to get their numbers, I had little interest.
None, really.
But now it’s time to get ready and I’m going to make sure I lookdamn good.
This is the part that some people find surprising. I’m the type of person who can get picky with outfits, always wanting to look good enough because I never know where I will end up. It could lead to a baseball game and then, by night-time, I could end up at a nightclub flirting with the ladies.
