Page 11 of Long Story Short

Jake looked around. ‘Everyone is looking at me,’ he hissed back as he pinned his badge on his jacket.

‘So, let’s give them something positive to talk about.’ I peered behind him. ‘I see the organisers. You ready to charm them?’

Jake met my gaze then and I was startled by the sudden eye contact. The room around us seemed to fade just a little bit like the blurring of a camera lens if you accidentally cover it with your fingertip.

‘You’re coming too?’ he asked gruffly.

‘I’m right by your side,’ I said.

The corners of his lips turned upwards just ever so slightly for a second. If I had blinked, I would have missed it but I was unable to look away from him looking at me.

‘Okay then.’ His eyes left mine and I let out a puff of air as I followed him to find the Romance Readers Club organisers. The conference was run by two women – Nora Davis and Christine Adams – who had set up the online club ten years ago to unite romance lovers from around the world. This conference had become an annual event, which seemed to grow bigger and more popular each year.

‘Nora, Christine, it’s lovely to see you both again,’ Jake said when we reached the two women. ‘I’m delighted to be here.’

Nora, who I estimated to be in her fifties, was my height and wore a grey bob and a flattering trouser suit. She eyed Jake over her glass of champagne. ‘Ah, Mr Richards, we were in two minds about having you here, but your agent is very persistent and to be honest, we knew it would generate publicity.’ She flicked her hand and we both looked over to the side where a photographer was rapidly taking photos of this conversation. I tried to make sure I was smiling and didn’t have a resting bitch face. ‘Everyone is very interested to hear whatelseyou have to say about romance books.’

The emphasis was clear. A prickle ran down my spine.

‘I look forward to obliging you,’ Jake replied in his politest voice. ‘I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.’ He turned to Christine, who was a blonde woman in her forties with funky, pink glasses framing her face. ‘You two, Christine.’

‘Well, we shall see, won’t we?’ Christine replied. She looked at me. ‘Hayley was too nervous to come herself?’

‘The opposite,’ I replied, as calmly as I could manage. ‘She has complete confidence in J— Mr Richards,’ I said, correcting myself to copy how they had addressed him.

‘And in Freya,’ Jake added. ‘Ladies, we mustn’t keep you; I know you’ll be in high demand this evening. I hope the conference will be as successful as it always is. Shall we get a glass of champagne ourselves, Freya?’ He gestured and I shook off my rabbit-in-the-headlights expression and nodded. I quickly followed him and we headed straight to the refreshments table. I wondered how many glasses of champagne it would be polite to down because I felt like I needed several to get through the rest of the next hour and a half.

8

‘There you are!’

Relief at seeing a friendly face flowed through me when an hour later, Liv burst through a group of people to pull me into a quick, tight hug. ‘I’ve been looking for you for ages; this place is packed. You look stunning.’

I eyed her red dress. ‘Right back at you!’

Liv leaned closer. ‘How’s it going so far with Jake?’ she asked in a lower voice, glancing at Jake, who stood a couple of feet away talking to another author.

‘A bumpy start, to be honest. He’s had an icy reception,’ I hissed back. ‘But he’s pretending not to notice and is ploughing on.’ I checked my phone. ‘It’s actually time for us to head out. I didn’t want him to be here for too long; we don’t need people starting to talk about the article once they’ve had too much to drink. We need to build him back up slowly.’

‘Well, if anyone can do it, you can,’ Liv said. ‘He’s lucky to have you. I’ll circulate for a bit. I need an early night after the journey, though, to be ready for the rest of the conference. Shall we have breakfast together tomorrow? I’ll message you.’

‘Let’s do that,’ I agreed, happy I wouldn’t have to have an awkward breakfast with Jake. We had a quick goodbye hug then Liv faded back into the crowd and I tapped Jake on the shoulder. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt but, Jake, you have that phone call to take…’

Jake’s eyes found mine and he nodded. ‘Oh yes, you’re right, thank you for reminding me. If you’ll excuse me,’ he said to the author he had been speaking to then he followed me towards the exit. I felt eyes on us as we weaved through the room, as if we were a zoo exhibit or something, and I suddenly couldn’t wait to escape the claustrophobic room and lie down on my hotel bed.

We had reached the door and my chest was sagging with relief when a man stepped smoothly in my path, forcing me to come to an abrupt halt. Jake paused beside me and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him tense.

‘Fancy bumping into you here, Richards,’ the man said, arching an eyebrow. His dark eyes swept over me then. ‘And who is your lovely date?’

‘This is Freya,’ Jake said, sounding like he was speaking through gritted teeth. ‘We work together.’

‘How delightful.’

I regarded the man, who appeared to be Jake’s age with fair hair, wearing a crisp, blue suit. I realised then he was familiar to me too. ‘And you are?’ I asked pointedly, even though I recognised him to be the very successful crime writer Davis Mulberry.

‘I’m surprised to see you here,’ Jake said then as Davis’s eyes narrowed at me, clearly put out that I didn’t know who he was. ‘You know where you are, right?’

I was surprised he was here too. It was unusual for a romance conference to have authors who wrote other genres in attendance.

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