Page 3 of Confessions of a Smutty Romance Author

“You know it will,” I said, handing over my dress. “You know, once enough time has passed that it’s actually funny and not devastating.”

“I know my clothes aren’t your style. I wish I would have thought to wear something cooler, but I got it on vacation and I—”

“Zip it,” I said, turning my back to her so she could zip up the back of her dress I was now wearing. “You are beautiful, and I love your style, and I’m just glad you didn’t wear green too. We were always accidentally matching when we were roommates.”

“Oh my gosh, I remember that.” She adjusted the collar of my dress. “Let’s get inside?”

“Absolutely,” I said with a grin. We walked toward the entrance and Charlotte said, “We’ll see if they can focus the cameras on your face.”

That was code foryellow is not your color. Noted.

The second we got through the doors and Charlotte told the receptionist who we were, everything seemed to speed up. Or at least that’s how I saw it with all the stars in my eyes. Before I even knew it, I was standing on the wings in my friend’s gaudy yellow dress and trying to take deep breaths.

Birdie rubbed my shoulders. “You’re going to do amazing.”

Jenny nodded. “Your books are going to fly off the shelves.”

Charlotte was all business. “Just stick to the talking points we went over, and you’ll do fine.”

A producer wired up in a way that couldn’t be fun outside of the bedroom approached us and said, “You’re on in sixty.”

My pulse quickened. It all felt so real, standing here in the wings, waiting to be interviewed, to announce a movie being made about my books. Something I’d created in my own mind. The premiere was only six months away, and it still didn’t feel real. My dad used to tell me I was worthless. That I’d never amount to anything.

“You’re on,” the producer said.

My dad was wrong.

The studio audience cheered for me as I walked toward the open seat across from Mia Parker, television host and my ticket to the daytime spotlight.

“Hi, Mia!” I said, going to give her a hug.

She wrapped her slender arms around me, then stepped back and took me in. “I love the dress! Are we the last stop before the beach?”

“Nothing like drinking mai tais in the sand, right?”

She laughed. “Count me in.” Gesturing toward the open chair, she said, “Sit, let’s chat!”

I did as she asked, carefully crossing my legs so nothing would be videoed through the slit in the oversized Hawaiian shirt.

Mia leaned toward the audience like I might lean in toward Birdie and Henrietta at Wednesday morning breakfasts. “We have the fabulous Mara Taylor here today to talk about her book,Swipe Right, which is being turned into a movie!”

The audience applauded me, and I soaked it all in. The spotlight felt like a hot stone massage on my skin. Never had I ever felt so glamourous in my life, and that included the girls’ trip Birdie and I took to Tulum after my first five-figure month as an author, where we had spa days and sat on the beach getting margaritas delivered every hour on the hour.

“Tell us about the book, Mara,” Mia said.

I grinned into the camera, spouting a talking point I’d practiced on the way. “Swipe Rightis a sexy romance showing the good, bad, and ugly of online dating in your thirties.”

“Lord help us,” Mia said, doing the sign of the cross over her chest. “Dating in your thirties is like a minefield, isn’t it?”

I laughed. “I haven’t been thirty long, but so far, there’s been plenty to enjoy, if you know what I mean.”

Mia rocked back, clapping her hands together. “So that’s what we can expect from your stories? Good sex and a happily ever after?”

“And a few laughs in between,” I added with a smile.

“How much of your fiction is inspired by your life?” Mia asked.

This was so fun, like talking to a friend. So I shared maybe a little more than I should have. “The good sex part? Very similar. The happily ever afters? Not a chance.”

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