A short pause. “What’s going on?” she asked, no longer distracted.
“She’s been gone since this morning.”
“She didn’t tell you where she was going or when she’d be back?” I could practically hear my sister’s eyebrows arch.
“If she had, I wouldn’t be calling you, now would I?”
Mir sighed. “What did you do?”
“What do you mean?” I said, not wanting to admit to my sister how much I’d screwed up. Damn it, I wanted to talk to Emily now. And time was of the essence. She could be lying in a ditch even as we were speaking.
“You and Emily were like…this. And she left without saying a word. You don’t even know her number. So what did you do?”
“We had an argument yesterday,” I said with a sigh.
“Jesus, Killian. Women don’t just leave for hours over an argument. Did you do something stupid?”
“It’s fixable.”
“Fixable? Remember what I said about not taking my favorite author away?” Mir said, growing agitated. “I knew it. I knew it!”
“I’m trying to talk to her, okay? Are you going to help or not?” If she wasn’t, I’d have to find some other way.
“Depends on what you did.”
“Fine.” So I told her in a quick summary, because Mir was more stubborn than century-old rust. But laying it out made me sound like America’s National Asshole.
“You shit,” she whispered, probably not able to yell like she wanted to because she was at work. “I can’t believe you said that! If she was a debut author, maybe I could see how she might think of using you. But she’s already a bestseller! She honestly doesn’t need you for anything. And it isn’t like your groupies can read! What did that girl say at the breakfast? Oh yeah, something about how The Very Bossy Engagement has no pictures! Do you think that’s the kind of person who likes Emily’s books?”
Now that Mir put it that way, my reaction from yesterday seemed even worse. I wasn’t just America’s Asshole. I was Asgard’s Asshole, too.
Mir continued, “I can’t help you because I don’t know her number. And you can’t message her through Facebook either, because she told me she didn’t manage that stuff. She said she has too many weirdos sending her dick pics and ‘wanting to get to know her.’”
“Fine,” I said, still staring at the empty driveway. I should just drive around until I found her. Hit the likely spots she could be visiting.
“Oh, wait. I think I know where she might’ve gone…although it’s a little early.”
“Where?”
“There’s a book signing this weekend in San Francisco.”
There was? In San Francisco? Confusion and disappointment mixed together. How come Emily hadn’t said anything about it?
On the other hand, she’d been super stressed and busy with My Fair Molly, so maybe it had slipped her mind. And even if she wanted to tell me yesterday, I’d blown up on her. She definitely wouldn’t have been in the mood.
Mir continued, “I wanted to go, but can’t. Too much work. Anyway, I’m pretty sure she’s going to be there because her name was on the list of authors. Oh, and I’m extra sad about missing it because a lot of hot cover models are supposed to be there, too. Maybe she’ll find somebody to hook up with and continue to write. I mean, it isn’t like you’re the only guy in the world. And romance cover models are super sexy. Most of them are nice, too, I heard. Hotel rooms. Bars. Drinks. Voilà! And you know what happens when a pretty and successful woman is accused of using her guy’s fame to further her career. She tends to get angry and rebound. Hell, I would.”
Just imagining Emily hooking up with another guy… And why the hell did Mir sound so smug and happy about it anyway? “Whose side are you on?”
“Mine. ’Cause I love reading her books. Anyway, the next meeting’s about to start. Bye!” She hung up before I could say anything else.
I stared at the phone, then recalled Emily’s book covers. They all featured topless men in incredible shape. And if I absolutely had to be honest with myself, they could be considered good-looking.
And those guys were going to the signing? For what? It was a signing, not a concert that required backup dancers. Wasn’t a romance conference supposed to be more, like…dignified? Basically just a gathering of bookworms?
Acid was starting to gurgle in my stomach. I called Felicia to launch Project Get Emily Back.
Chapter Forty-Two
Emily
I flew out of Dulles Airport on Thursday, after informing the hotel I was coming a day early. The clerk had sounded a bit confused, but the check-in went smoothly. I texted Lucy after unpacking my suitcase. It was about a quarter before six, and she should’ve already landed. Skye wasn’t coming until tomorrow.
–Me: You in SF yet?
–Lucy: I just dropped off my bag. Why?
–Me: Because I’m here too.
–Lucy: What? Already?
–Me: Change of plans.
–Lucy: Woohoo! Let’s hang out. Dinner and drinks! Just us girls!
–Me: What about Blue?
–Lucy: He’s out with some friends. Boys’ night out.
Perfect. I didn’t want to be in my hotel room alone. Being alone made me think about Killian. And I didn’t want to think about him. It wasn’t good for my blood pressure. Or appetite. Or sleep.
–Me: Okay. Meet you downstairs in ten.
I went to the lobby bar a few minutes later and found Lucy there. Her purple hair was tied back into a simple ponytail, showing her pretty, friendly face. The dye job was new, so I figured she’d done it for the signing. She looked fabulous. And totally happy, as she should be.
I waved and rushed over to her, pleasure unfurling inside. “Lucy!”
A huge grin split her face. “Hey, girl.” She hugged me.
I hugged her back. “So good to see you.”
“You too!” She looked around. “Your man seriously didn’t come with you? Or is he having a guys’ night too?”
“He’s…” I shrugged like it didn’t matter—that I didn’t care. “We had a fight.”
“Oh no.” Her face fell. “How come?”
“Long story. Let’s grab a drink first.”
She and I went into the bar, and were quickly shown to a table. I ordered a rum and Coke, she got a Long Island iced tea, and I started to unload everything. But trying to explain without letting her know Killian’s identity was tricky. So I fumbled a bit, then settled on labeling him “somebody famous.”
“Wait.” She lowered her voice, but the light in her eyes betrayed her excitement. “So you really are dating Killian Axelrod?”
How on earth did she know? I tried to play it off. “What makes you say that?”
“I saw the picture on your page, silly. But I thought maybe it was somebody who looked like him that your mom found.”
Well, if she already knows… “No, it really is him. And you can’t tell anybody, because he’s really particular about his privacy.”
“Okay.” Lucy nodded, but her lips twitched as though she could barely contain her excitement. But I knew her. She’d keep it a secret.