Free Writing a Wrong by Tiffany King Page B

distance after my fingers left bruises on her leg the first time she rode with us.
    "Hey, look at that," Greg said, interrupting Olivia and me as we were reviewing my schedule for the following week. He drove slowly past the small store where a sizable line had formed outside. It took me a moment to register what I was seeing. If not for the sign hanging over the door shaped like an old clock that read Book Time, I wouldn't have believed we were at the right location. Maybe there was a signing before mine. That could be the only explanation.
    Olivia bounced on the seat, thinking the line had something to do with me. I wanted to set her straight, but I caught sight of a group of women in the line clutching copies of my first series.
    Greg made a sharp right turn, pulling into a narrow alley behind the building. "The owner told me to park around back," he said, stopping beside an ordinary-looking door that could have belonged to any store, but to me now held a certain sense of magical appeal. A feeling of euphoria bubbled inside me, pulsating with a life of its own. I had already made an appearance on national television and yet, I felt like my life was about to change.
    Olivia reached over and gripped my hand. I could tell by the way her eyes were shining that she could feel it too. "Are you ready for this?"
    I nodded my head followed by a quick shake instead. I wished Alec was here. He was such a large part of the success I was suddenly having. I missed him acutely at that moment.
    Olivia startled me by nudging my arm to slide out of the vehicle. I came into focus, realizing Greg was holding the door open for me. "Piece of cake," he said warmly.
    He reached out a hand to help me climb from the vehicle. "Did you pay all those people to wait in line for me?"
    "They're the ones who paid—by buying your books. Go give them what they want." He smiled widely, putting my mind at ease. "I've been instructed by Remi to get a lot of pictures. Tonight is your night. Enjoy it."
    Olivia nodded in agreement, shouldering my bag with hers. "Let's not keep your readers waiting, Talent."
    "Oh my god. Greg called me that too at the airport. Did you guys rehearse that or something?"
    Before she could answer, the manager opened the back door of the store as I rounded the vehicle. "Ms. Blake, it's a pleasure to have you here," she said, shaking my hand enthusiastically. "I'm Patricia—owner, manager, and everything in between of Book Time. I can't tell you how excited your readers and I are to have you here today. They've been lined up for hours."
    "Hours?" I squawked, not quite believing her words.
    "Hours," she repeated. "Even in the cold. They're a hearty bunch. We passed out hot chocolate an hour ago, but we haven't heard a single complaint. They're so excited to meet you." She led us through a tiny stockroom crowded with boxes and shelves of overflow books.
    "I have to tell you, I'm excited too," I said, beaming with pleasure as I spotted a cat sitting on a desk in the corner of the room. Another sat by the door leading to the main area of the store. "Oh, I love your shop," I added, bending down to pet the cat for a moment. "I had to leave my baby at home."
    "Ah, thank you, my dear. It's been in my family for generations. The first paperbacks sold here cost a dime, if that tells you how long we've been here. We've made some cosmetic changes during the years, but the shelves are all original," she said, opening the stockroom door to reveal a small but perhaps the warmest bookstore I'd ever stepped into. Rich mahogany shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling while shorter shelves and tables divided the floor space into sections. Two leather chairs bookended a small round table in the corner where we were standing. A delicate Tiffany lamp sat on the table, casting a warm glow that provided an intimate feel.
    After the crisp, cold air outside, the appeal of curling up in one of those chairs with a good book all day was tantalizing.
    "I