I miss her.

Then, I see a familiar face. My throat closes as I fight back emotion. She’s not the woman I want to see, but she’s close. So close.

I scramble up from the signing table so fast, I nearly knock down the chair.

“Lark,” the word comes out like a desperate plea. I’m a man in need of my muse and it shows.

“You better be for real this time.” She plants her hands on her hips, eyeing me with hot, tear-filled eyes. “No catfishing.”

I cross my heart. “It’s real. No fishing in the vicinity.”

She rolls her eyes, not smiling. “You’re as cheesy as they come. I hope she knows what’s in for her.”

I reach out, grab her hand before she can get away. Vanessa eyes us from across the room, ready to swoop in. No fan gets more than sixty seconds. That’s the rule.

“Did she see it?” Hope claws at my chest, fills me with purpose.

“She’s not much for social media.” Lark tilts her head at me, eyes narrowed. “I wonder why?”

I wince. “You saw what they were saying?”

Lark glowers at me. “We saw it. What are you gonna do about it?”

Nothing. I’d done nothing to stop the comments online. I’d ignored them as Vanessa had advised.

“Words are easy, G. Devlin.” Lark takes a step back. “Actions? Those are harder.”

My jaw tightens. I know about actions. I write them every day. But do Iactuallyperform?

“She let you in,” Lark continues. “She doesn’t do that. And you hurt her. You didn’t defend her.”

Vanessa swoops in, placing a hand on Lark’s sleeve to urge her on. “Thank you for being a fan. Would you like a photo with the author?”

“No photo.”

Vanessa smiles icily, as if the expression is foreign to her body. “Let’s move along then.”

“No arguments here.” Lark gives me a frosty smile over her shoulder as she tosses her hair and walks away.

I watch her for a long moment, my heart freezing in my chest. Then, something breaks through. Something shatters me.This is it.My last chance.

“Attention everyone,” my voice booms over the buzz of conversation. “I have something to say.”

Hushed whispers die away, and every head turns in my direction. It’s like the Sahara in my mouth. I grab my glass of water and gulp the remains down in three long swallows.

Everyone stares as I take a deep breath and set the glass down on the table.

Although I’ve stripped myself down to the bone in a dozen different novels, leaving my words on the page for all to see, I’ve never felt so naked. The urge to cover myself is strong, but I suppress it.

My eyes skitter over the crowd, all of them turned toward me expectantly. I let my gaze settle on each face. Were some of the haters in attendance right now?

“I haven’t named the woman this novel was inspired by.” I meet Lark’s gaze, and she nods with approval. “I haven’t stood up for her.”

Vanessa pushes her way through the crowd until she stands next to me at the table. “That’s it for tonight, everyone. Thanks for coming.”

“Let him finish,” someone says.

A man’s voice sounds, “Who’s the special lady?”