Page 178 of Smoke and Fire
"No sign of Katrina anywhere, and I'm just about to finish book fifteen. You’re number one on most fiction lists that I can see. Priyanka sent me a few other places to track. I don’t have access to the reports, but it’s safe to say you hit number one for not just one bestseller list, butallof them, I think."
Thankfully, she didn't cut the video off at the end of her report, but rambled about a few more things. I watched it two more times, just to cement the fact that one of my books had launched and I didn't have to expend all my emotional effort over it. The whole thing made my brow furrow.
Did I overdramatize things?
How was this so much easier for her?
Launches normally left me emotionally wrung out. On the rare occasion that one of my books released while I was on a fire, I tried not to think about it and jeopardize my safety or anyone else’s. An almost impossible task.
During the winter and spring when I launched new books, I spent the whole day just trying to understand what to do, how to talk to these women, and how to display compassion or empathy or excitement. Those things came far more naturally to Dahlia.
Which, in hindsight, felt pretty obvious.
I let out a long breath, grateful that the day was almost over though I’d had almost zero part of it. I’d check the sales later. They didn’t matter as much as what Dahlia had done for me today.
Bastian:Thanks for the updates. And for everything you did. Sounds like it was a good launch.
I stared at the screen and wondered if I should say more. Compared to her natural brightness, my responses felt bland. Her reply arrived moments later. I lingered so deep in my mind I almost dropped the phone when it vibrated in my hands.
With a shake of my head, I cleared the cobwebs.
Dahlia:Stop it. It was a GREAT launch! At least, I think it was. I’ve never done this before.
Bastian:You’re right. It was awesome.
Dahlia:Awesome? It’s way better than that! When you get back in three days, I’m going to take you out to dinner.
Bastian:I’ll take that offer.
I sent the reply before I could overthink it—because overthink it I would. Thankfully, she didn’t make me wait.
Dahlia:It’s a date.
GIF
The GIF that followed showed two pretentious people lowering themselves at a finely lit dinner, clearly high-end. At the last second, the GIF exploded into a party. They jumped into the middle of a mosh pit, hair and clothes unwound. I snorted.
A jumble of things that I wanted to say to Dahlia ran through my head, but I didn’t know how to thread them into sentences.
My fingers itched. If I had a blank page in front of me, I’d know what to do. I’d knowexactlywhat to say. If I were Rodrigo or Adrick or any of the other males I usually wrote, this wouldn’t be so hard. Life was so much easier to experience through them.
Instead, I tucked my phone underneath my pillow, stacked my hands behind my head, and tried not to think about how much I wanted to go back to Pineville. The number one slot, the launch, even Inessa and Dad . . . none of those occupied my mind. Not even thoughts of a hot shower or the feeling of being clean.
Only Dahlia.
19
DAHLIA
Three days later, Lizbeth blinked as she stared at me through wide eyes.
“Shut. Up.”
She’d wound her silky red hair into a braid, then a bun on top of her head. A few tendrils dropped down around her ears, creating a fuzzy, halo-like appearance. Freckles smattered the bridge of her nose. She reminded me of a fairy.
An adorably-pregnant one.
“All of them.” I gestured toward the stack of nineteen romance books in front of her. “I couldn’t stop. I've been reading like a maniac the last two weeks because of the launch.”
