Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
I nod, and a few rows behind him, a sharp-dressed man with a thick head of golden-blond hair swings his gaze around the auditorium from William to me.
The guy stops and stares at me for a few seconds. No idea what that’s about. Then it hits me. He probably recognizes me from the viral video. Twice in one day. It was too good to be true that I’d remain anonymous in LA.
Three minutes later though, I don’t care about anyone else. My phone is off, my attention’s on the red curtain, and the lights go down.
When they go up again, Jude walks on stage. “Darling, have you seen my public persona? I seem to have misplaced it, and I need it to get through the Abernathys’ dinner party.”
I laugh, and for the next hour, I hardly stop laughing. It’s like a modern-day Noël Coward script, and every scene is a showcase of how fantastic Jude Fox is when it comes to deft, sharp stage humor.
The whole cast has me transfixed, but especially the lead. The guy I would fly across a country for again and again. The guy who makes my heart hammer. The guy I want to make mine, all mine.
When the first act ends, I stretch my legs and head to the lobby bar to grab a water. As I wait in line, someone taps my shoulder.
“Hey! Any chance you’re TJ Hardman? Please say yes.”
I groan privately, then fasten on a smile before I turn to face the good-looking blond dude behind me. “That’s me.”
He sighs in relief, even wiping his hand across his forehead. “I hoped so. I saw your video this morning. A colleague sent it to me.”
Oh, joy.
“And I had to introduce myself. Couldn’t miss the chance—I am one hundred percent Team TJ.”
He reaches for his phone, and since I don’t want to prolong this encounter, I cut to the chase. “Sure. We can take a selfie.”
“I won’t turn that down.”
He slides in next to me, and we smile for the camera. When he slips the phone into his pocket, I’m ready to take off, but he puts a hand on my shoulder. “That’s not the reason I’m interrupting your intermission,” he says, his tone shifting to all business.
“Okay?”
“I started your book right after I saw the video. Holy balls. It’s amazing. The romance, the humor, the angst as he falls for his best friend’s brother. I’m halfway done and it’s . . .” He presses his fingers to his lips in a chef’s kiss.
“That’s great,” I say, my shoulders relaxing. At least the video’s been good for one solid book sale.
“I work at Webflix. I could totally see your book being a film. A TV show. Anything,” he says, then gives me his name.
Robert Walsh.
I flashback to the conversation Jude and I had in London.
Robbys are wankers.
This guy probably is. And besides, it’s Hollywood. My agent’s parting words on this topic were: Hollywood will start calling, but don’t believe a deal is done till the ink is dry. And even then, it’ll likely be in disappearing ink.
I do love being repped by a realist. I smile like Mason would want me to.
When Robert asks for my agent’s name and says he’ll be in touch, I figure nothing will come of it, even after I grab my water, then Google his name when I’m back in my seat, and learn he is indeed an executive at Webflix.
But who isn’t these days? I don’t even email Mason. Besides, I’m here for Jude.
I settle back in and watch the second act, where the entire cast transports me to London, the place where I was happiest. Except Los Angeles is making a damn good case to snag that top spot.
When the cast takes the curtain call together, I can’t contain the biggest smile I’ve ever felt.
That’s my guy, on stage, captivating a packed house.
After one more group bow, Jude scans the audience and quickly, very quickly, his eyes land on me. He flashes a smile that’s both for the entire theater and for one guy only. And it says: when everyone is gone, you’re the one I’ll leave with.
It’s the most intimately his spotlight has ever shone on me, and I don’t want him to ever turn it off.
After a long line of autograph-hunters finally peters out, it’s just William, Jude, and me outside his dressing room.
“So glad you could be here,” Jude says to the fellow Brit. “I did not expect to see you.”
“I like to surprise you,” William says, then hands him a box of chocolates.
Jude grins. “You’re the best. Thank you, mate.”
Then William kisses Jude on the cheek. I burn a little. Okay, a lot. William steps back. “My band is playing at The Holy Cow this week. The club is ten times better than the hole-in-the-wall joint you saw me play at in London. You men should come see me. I’ll get you VIP tix,” he says to both of us.