Page 57 of This Time I'm Keeping You
“Is that guy for real?”Sam whispered.“Who the fuck asks something like that?”
Nick’s temper spiked.It was downright rude and out of line, as far as he was concerned.He thought about telling the man that, but Sam shook his head.
“We promised her we wouldn’t make a scene.Let her handle it, Nick.I’m sure she’s had worse.”
“Doesn’t make it right,” Nick said under his breath.Watching Poppy and Hillary Bailey exchange a look, he sensed they were no strangers to this question.
“Is your wife here, Garrett?”Poppy asked, nothing in her tone giving away how pissed off and insulted she must be.
A woman in the seat beside the dickhead raised her hand.
“Do you enjoy writing?”Poppy asked her, and the woman nodded.“Well then, you write your book and worry about the rest when it’s finished.Writing isn’t all about numbers.There has to be passion and enjoyment involved too.”
“But what do you make?”Garrett Johns persisted, and Nick tried to rise, but Sam’s hand held him down.
Poppy looked at the man for a few seconds and then said, “How about you tell me what you earn first, and then I’ll tell you mine.”
Nick snorted.It was the perfect answer.Johns threw out a number, and Sam coughed out, “Bullshit.”
“Well, Garrett, that’s an excellent salary, but I don’t talk about what I earn.Let’s move on to the next question.”
The man sat down, and Nick could tell he was annoyed but didn’t pursue it, which was just as well for him.
“We’re not shy,” Sam said.“But this makes me itch.”
“Public eye, bud, comes with the territory.”
“Yeah, but much respect for Poppy—that smile hasn’t slipped.”
It hadn’t.The woman was beautiful standing up there, doing her thing.It wasn’t just the outside, which was hot, but how she seemed to glow when she talked about her work.
“And that’s the last question,” the man interviewing said.“Please help yourself to refreshments.”
Now that the questions were wrapped up, those guests with books surged forward.Sam wandered off to get food, and Nick moved closer to Poppy.He listened as she talked and signed, taking the time with each fan, and then Garrett Johns reached her.
“I answered your question, Poppy.Now it’s just me and my wife here, so you can answer mine,” he said.
“Garrett,” his wife said, clearly uncomfortable, “enough.”
“I’m just interested.”
Nick climbed onto the platform and stood behind Poppy, crossing his arms.Garrett caught his eye, and the man took a step back.
“Let’s go, Lucy.”He grabbed his wife’s arm and left.
Nick retreated, and Poppy had no idea, thankfully, what he’d just done.She was independent, and he got that, but no way was anyone being anything but respectful to her.
“Can we have a photo with your man and you?”the next lady to get her book signed asked Poppy.“Someone pointed him out to us.”
Nick thought she was closer to his grandmother’s age of eighty.She wore a floral dress and beige shoes like the ones his uncle got after foot correction surgery.A thick Velcro strap secured them in place.He smiled when her eyes ran over him.
“Man?”Poppy looked behind and found him.“He’s?—”
“Happy to have a photo,” Nick cut her off.
He had a special affection for seniors.They’d done their time and now could do what they wanted, as far as he was concerned.
Putting an arm around Poppy, he pulled her close for the picture and then retreated before she could speak.Billy had sent him a picture of the assface, so he wandered around the room double-checking he wasn’t here.
