My Cover Model (A Love Like That #1) - R.L. Kenderson Page 0,2
going to happen between you and that guy from your gym?”
“Alan? Yeah, he texted me about a dozen times, and then—poof—he was gone.”
“No way. What was the last thing you two talked about?”
“Nothing big. Very benign. I think it was something about the latest Marvel movie. And that was it.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s probably better anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve seen him work out. He’s kind of a fanatic. I work out the bare minimum. I only do it because it’s healthy for me. He’s the kind of guy who loves to work out. I do not. In the end, it wouldn’t have worked.”
“You don’t know that,” Harper said with a disappointed voice.
I shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know since he ghosted me.”
“I’m sorry, hon.”
I laughed. “Don’t be. It’s fine. I wasn’t in love with him. I wasn’t even in lust with him.”
“He didn’t deserve you anyway.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re my friend.”
“And because it’s true.”
The book signing event was about four hours away in Iowa from our home in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area, so by the time we arrived, it was after eight at night. We checked into our hotel and put our stuff in the room.
“I’m sorry we got here so late,” Harper said.
“Don’t sweat it.”
“I know you wanted to check in and go to the dinner tonight.”
I shrugged, not wanting her to feel bad. “I did. But it will be okay. We’re supposed to have breakfast tomorrow. Hopefully, we’ll meet some people there.”
“We could always go look and see if anyone is still wandering around.”
“Might as well.”
“Why don’t you message the ringleader? Maybe we can still check in tonight.”
“Good idea.” I pulled my phone from my purse and sent Nicki, the person running the event, a message.
My phone dinged.
“Great news. They’re just getting ready to put their stuff away, so if we hurry, we’ll make it.”
We rushed down to a small room just off the main lobby. Inside were some people milling around and a table with a woman sitting at it.
The first woman, a brunette with shoulder-length hair, smiled at us. “Hey, are you Sydney Hart?”
“That’s me.”
“I’m Nicki,” she said as she handed me a purple-and-white name tag attached to a purple lanyard.
“I love your author name,” Harper said to me.
I laughed. “All I did was shorten my last name.”
When I’d first started writing, a lot of authors had talked about using a pen name. I hadn’t really felt like I needed one, but I had decided that Sydney Hart sounded better than Sydney Harting.
“Yeah, but Hart and heart. It’s perfect for a romance author.”
“Thanks, Harper. That’s why I did it.” I looked at Nicki. “This is my assistant, Harper.”
“Hi, Harper,” Nicki said. “Give me one sec.” She moved to a different pile and looked through them. She pulled out a red-and-white name tag attached to a red lanyard and handed it to Harper.
This was only my third author event, but so far, they were always color-coded. It looked like authors were purple, and assistants were red. There were also a few green-and-white name tags.
“What are the green ones?” Harper asked.
“Oh, those are the VIP ticket holders. They get to come to all the events that you two will attend.”
“That’s cool.”
“And then we have one blue name tag.” Nicki pointed to the end. “That’s for our one and only model this year.”
Harper looked at me and wiggled her eyebrows. “I can’t wait to meet him.”
I’d honestly kind of forgotten about him. It wasn’t that I wasn’t curious or that I didn’t like men. As a woman in her mid-thirties, I was completely aware that my biological clock was ticking, and unlike Harper’s previous happily single status, I wanted to get married someday, so there was a part of me that was always on the lookout for single men. But this model was so far out of my league that I hadn’t really given him a second thought.
“Didn’t you tell me you were happily married as we drove down here?” I jokingly asked her after we said good-bye and walked away.
“I can still look,” she said. “I’m not dead.”
“That you can.”
She looked at me. “Aren’t you excited?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe a little. It is kind of cool to meet someone who’s on book covers. But I’m sure he won’t give us the time of day. Besides, he’s just one guy.”
Harper smiled. “Whatever. I’m still going to gawk. A lot.”
Three
Sydney
The combined noise of two phone alarms with completely different songs woke us up at six fifteen the