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“Why do you look like you’re pissing yourself—and not in a good way?” Randy asked.
Wes started getting blurry around the eyes and he felt like he was going to puke. He bent over at the waist. He breathed in through his mouth and out through his nose while counting backwards from ten. When he reached one, he felt not one ounce better.
“Did I do something wrong?” Randy asked, as if Wes’s reaction had aroused old fears and insecurities.
“No, you did everything right.”
It was Wes who’d got it wrong. Randy had tried to meet with him several times, but he’d been in a rush to get his work done so he could get home to Summer. He’d been so distracted by what was in his right hand he’d lost track of what was going on in his left.
“I told you to run with it, and you did,” Wes said.
“Then why do I feel like I fucked up?”
“You didn’t. I did, and I don’t know how to fix it. This screws up Sloan’s signing at Summer’s shop.”
“No, I made it clear that Sloan was going to do both signings and the podcast. She just wants a bigger venue for the release. We have that venue.”
But Summer had the heart and passion. Hell, he’d convinced her to put the last of her savings into this signing. And now he was essentially throwing the party of the year twelve hours before her event.
“Who the hell is going to buy a book from Summer after they’ve already bought one from us?” he asked. Randy’s face went blank as if, in all the excitement, he’d forgotten that detail. “Who’s going to go to some hole-in-the-wall bookshop when they can party like it’s New Year’s.”
“I didn’t even consider that. I just ran with it and ... What the hell do we do? We can’t cancel.”
“Hell no, the board would have me replaced.”
“What about Summer?” Randy looked up at the ceiling for divine intervention. “This is my mess.”
“No, I should have made time for you, but I’ve been so distracted with Summer, I dropped the ball.”
“A distraction,” a broken female voice said from behind. “Is that how you see me?”
Wes slowly turned his head and what he saw tore his heart right out of his chest.
Summer was standing there in a pretty blue summer dress with her hair braided and her glasses on her nose. Her arms were around her stomach as if they were the only thing holding her together. Her eyes were bloodshot and the tip of her nose was pink from crying.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how did you mean it?”
He took a step closer and she backed away. “I just meant that I have so many balls in the air one was bound to fall through the cracks.”
“So, I’m something you have to juggle. That doesn’t sound fun.” She held up a BookLand flyer that made hers look like the PTA had designed them. “So is it true? You’re having Sloan at your grand opening?”
“This is all new news to me. I’m just finding out about it now.”
“It was me,” Randy said, holding up a hand. “I swear it was all me. I just told Wes about the event.”
“You mean BookLand’s event. It sounds like it’s going to be a blast,” she said, and her voice cracked.
“We’ll cancel it,” Randy said.
Wes looked at his brother as if he’d sprouted a unicorn horn and was farting rainbows.
“The solution isn’t that easy, Randy. We’d be sued by everyone we contracted with, verbal or contractual. Not to mention Sloan. The signing in is three days. We’ve missed the seventy-two-hour clause. It’s going to be onET, for Christ’s sake.”
Summer started gently rocking back and forth as if holding a baby, like the motion would soothe the pain. “I remember you telling me that you had a team of lawyers who could get you out of anything. ‘Shred,’ I believe was the exact wording.”
“This is different.”