Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
“Ohmygod.” I covered my face with my hands as BookTok kept reverberating through my skull. I had a hard time taking selfies, and they expected me to make one of those clever, funny little videos? “Can we stop talking about this?”
“She’ll be fine,” Chick assured them. “She sucks at social media and suffers from a raging case of imposter syndrome. She’ll get over it.”
“You’re making it sound like an STD,” I muttered through my hands as Tony started coating every curl on my head with product.
By the time he finished drying my hair with a diffuser and scrunching here and there with a look of concentration on his face, they’d discussed more authors than I’d ever heard of and debated the new alternatives for promotion, since some rich asshole had broken Twitter and ruined everyone’s fun.
Tony was remarkably social media savvy.
Maybe that’s why I hadn’t objected when he took a little electric eyebrow trimmer to my brows and the spot on my chin that we never spoke about in public because it grew hair now and please let’s forget I ever said anything about that.
Ahem.
“There we go.”
Chick whistled. “That’s my sunshine. Look at you, beautiful.”
Tony turned me back toward the mirror and…wow. I hadn’t seen that woman in a while.
The changes weren’t that dramatic. My hair still curled to my shoulders, but it looked healthier, bouncier, and there wasn’t a trace of frizz in sight, despite the humidity. The cut also made my face look a teensy bit younger for some miraculous reason I wasn’t going to question.
I smiled at Tony. “I love it.”
“You look amazing,” he said with a gratified expression. “You’ll need to come back every three months and use the leave-in conditioner I’m going to sell you. I’ll give you a discount if you sign a book for me.”
“Deal.”
Bernie tipped her head to the side as she stared at my curls and then pulled her long braid over her shoulder. “Do you cut wavy hair too? I’m thinking it might be time for a change.”
I snickered. “I must look good,” I told him. “She never lets anyone touch her hair. She trims it herself.”
If Tony’s horrified expression was any indication, his potential romance with Bernie was DOA.
I bought the conditioner and made an appointment for three months, and then we were back in the car, with Bernie behind the wheel again.
“I can’t stop touching it.” I said as I felt the springing curls bounce in my hand.
“That’s what we want him to say.”
Bernie laughed at Chick’s quick comeback. “Funny, but seriously, stop touching it. We have food to order and a puppy to pick up before you get home and change into one of your new outfits.”
“I feel like I’m trying too hard.” When I thought about tonight, my shoulders knotted and my stomach roiled into one gigantic ball of anxiety.
“New chapter, sunshine, remember?” Chick said from the backseat. “There’s nothing wrong with trying to create the life that you want. You were slow-boiling like a sad frog in a pity pot for years. It’s time to try something different.”
“You do have a flattering way with words,” I replied wryly.
“I know I do. And if I cared as much about my art as you do yours, I’d be working on a real screenplay instead of lazily writing the wrestler’s saga, Mad Libs Part 5: The Pronouning.”
I reached back for his hand. “Okay, now that we’ve fixed all my problems and given me a makeover, I think we should start working on you. I don’t like hearing anyone put down my friend’s genius.”
“Preach,” Bernie said. “No trash talking allowed. We have to stay focused on tonight.”
“I can’t talk about you now,” I whisper-shouted to Chick. “She wants me to stay focused on seducing her brother.”
“Look, I’m not saying I have any money riding on it or anything…” Bernie started with a grin.
I whacked her on the arm. “You’d better not,” I told her with an incredulous laugh.
She joined in and then shook her head. “No betting. I just want him to be the one having fun for a change. I’m about to be a grandmother—dear lord, I can’t believe I just said that out loud—and I can’t remember the last time my big brother really stepped out and enjoyed himself. He’s always been too busy keeping the rest of us out of trouble. But you’ve thrown him off his game. It’s good for him.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I’d thrown him off his game?
He’d pulled me back into mine.
“It’s been good for her too,” Chick said, echoing my thoughts. “If you could forget your brother was the inspiration, you’d know it as soon as you read her book, the way I did.”
I frowned over my shoulder at him. “What does that mean?”
“I mean instead of writing your usually-complicated worlds full of magic and almost-impossible-to-pronounce surnames, you wrote about two mature people, each with their own flaws and personal demons to slay, falling in funny, lusty love. It’s a sexy book, but it’s also a hopeful one. Everybody wants to believe that it’s never too late to find The One.”