Page 41 of Toni and Addie Go Viral

Addie

After a successful wedding breakfast, they were settled at a table for a book and photo signing.

Unlike the majority of the furniture in the antique-laden house, this was a foldable table.

It was dressed up with a tablecloth that was decorated with arrangements of fresh flowers.

Between Toni and Addie was a tea set, fortunately filled with black tea that someone kept pouring into her cup.

The initial line was daunting, but now that they were done, Addie had a moment to look over at her new (fake!) spouse.

For all that Toni claimed not to love her author responsibilities, she was both gracious and charming.

There was no doubt that the attendees were invested in the success of the show and the book series.

“It seems like a lot of effort for a small group,” Addie murmured in a lull between people.

“Sometimes it’s about the news coverage.” Toni pointedly looked at the photographers. “This event will result in interesting photos and articles both on the books and the show.”

“Oh.”

“Part of that is because of you.” Toni stared at her, and the intent way she did so made Addie positive that the cameras were now zeroed in on them. “You are a beautiful star, and the buzz for the show will mean that these photos are sent to assorted outlets.

“And the money from the tickets goes to charity,” Toni added, not looking away from her.

“Which creates more coverage.” Addie smiled over at the photographers.

“So jaded, so soon,” Toni murmured. “I picked the charity. It was my condition for being here.”

“Alzheimer’s?” Addie guessed. “Or a queer organization?”

Toni glanced at her. “Both.”

“Good.” Addie smiled up at the next group of Victorian-gowned women with books and asked, “Are you enjoying your weekend?”

They’d developed a system of sorts. Toni signed and said “thank you” or answered some historical question.

Addie made small talk. Most of her headshots were pre-signed, and few people wanted those personalized.

They posed every so often for photos— that sort was preapproved for all attendees—but mostly, it was a book signing.

In the second hour, the signing was opened up to the public, and that was a different sort of thing entirely.

There weren’t as many historical questions from the signing line, but there were a lot more lesbians and queer folks.

The crowd took on an unusually vibrant mix as the hue of boldly dyed Victorian dresses mixed with a smattering of rainbows and vibrantly dyed hair, along with older women in mundane dress.

“This is your audience,” Addie whispered. “This eclectic group.”

“Your audience, too,” Toni pointed out. “You’re their Adelaine Wight.”

Addie felt herself studying her future audience.

These were the book people, the crowd that put Toni’s book on bestseller lists, and her job was to add to their number.

She’d swell their ranks by her work in the show.

Hopefully. And they’d buy Toni’s books, too.

There was talk of a show-related reissue for the paperback with one of the stills from the show.

I’d be on the cover of the book she wrote.

She couldn’t repress the smile that stole over her at the thought of that bit of peculiarity.

They were in this together, and Addie’s success would become more success for Toni, too.

That made her want to do better, not just because she loved The Whitechapel Widow and the career possibilities but because of how much she liked Toni.

“We’re going to have to do this again after the show launches,” Addie said lightly, smiling at the fan who had both an advanced copy and a hardcover copy of Toni’s book.

“Excellent. Then they’ll only want your autograph, and I can hide in the background,” Toni teased as she accepted the books and the Post-it with the reader’s name on it.

“Hush.” Addie looked at the line of people. “This crowd is here because of your book. They won’t vanish because of an adaptation.”

As the day wore on, Toni was obviously peopled out, but aside from her surliness over the post-signing promo photos, she hid it well. The rest of Saturday was a blur. Dinner. After-dinner drinks.

“No weddings tonight,” Lady Dove tittered. “We do, however, have accompaniment for a dance.”

Toni offered an arm to Addie as they were all herded into the ballroom. “Like sheep to a shearing,” she muttered.

Addie smothered a giggle.

“Our guests of honor will start the dance,” the second, sterner Lady Dove announced. Her gaze met Addie’s, and she nodded toward the floor.

“Do you mind?” Addie asked quietly. “I can refuse if—”

“I never mind having you in my arms.” Toni led her to the center of the floor, glanced at the musicians, and gave a solitary nod.

The music started, and for the next minute or so, they were the only people on the floor.

Addie felt transported. Never mind that this was a fake historical setting, and she was in a fake marriage.

What mattered was the fire in Toni’s gaze, the command with which she led Addie, and the certainty that Addie was the luckiest woman alive in that moment.

“What’s that smile about, Lady Adelaine?” Toni murmured as they flowed across the room. Other couples were filling the floor now, so she had to be alert to those dancing or walking by them.

“I’m happy,” Addie confessed. “Being here in your arms makes me feel incredible. I suspect it would be the same if we were wearing jeans and flannels. It’s not the dress, or the music, or the room. It’s just you.”

“So I’m not a terrible fake wife,” Toni teased.

You are exactly what I want in a wife, Addie thought.

All she said, though, was “You’re doing a fine job of romancing me, Lord Darbyshire. I bet half these women will fantasize about being in my place.”

Toni laughed loudly, seemingly relaxing into the moment. “I doubt most of them would want to be around the real me. I’m moody, short-tempered, introverted—”

“Clever, funny, giving,” Addie interjected.

“You bring out the best in me,” Toni said lightly, twirling her past the women in their dresses and the men in their suits. Today, with being open to the public, there was a sea of unusual costumes as well as Victorian ones. It also meant that they weren’t the only pair of women dancing together.

Their brief waltz made Addie feel like a princess at a ball—or a Victorian at a ball that was historically inaccurate for its tolerance of the suit-clad author who swept her around the room.

The ballroom was as stunning as the rest of Cape Dove Manor.

The attention to detail in every corner of the mansion was breathtaking, and the musicians playing 1800s compositions only added to the ambiance.

Still, it was the joy of being in Toni’s arms that made Addie feel like swooning.

Parts of history are amazing; parts of modernity are, too.

The music paused as the song ended, and Toni released Addie. She bowed briefly. “Thank you, Adelaine.”

“For dancing?”

“For everything, love. The dance, the smiles, being in the show. You are a…” Toni shook her head. She looked incredibly serious, and Addie wished she knew what Toni was thinking. All else Toni said was “I am grateful.”

Impulsively, Addie leaned forward and dropped a kiss on Toni’s cheek. “I like you, too.”

Toni stared at her for a moment before cracking a smile. “Come on. We have photos with fans next in the library, and then I can show you how much I like you.…”

By the time they’d retired for the night, Addie was fairly certain that she wasn’t the only one who would be a little heartbroken to return to their regular lives.

She was struck with the fantasy of life in such a stunning setting, dancing in Toni’s arms, spending night and day together.

Instead, she’d be returning to her tiny apartment on the other side of the country.

Far, far apart.

This togetherness with someone who made her smile was what Addie wanted for the rest of her life, and she was starting to think that she wanted it with Toni. That night, they spent as much time talking as touching, and the thought of leaving was obviously weighing on both of them.

“It would be nice if we lived closer together,” Addie said lightly at one point.

Toni paused. “I have to be in DC for teaching, and you need to be in LA for your job.”

“I know, but it would be nice to see you more often.”

“You’d get sick of me if we lived closer.” Toni squeezed her hand. “I’m more fun in small doses.”

Addie didn’t argue, but it was a legitimate question to ponder. She had wanted this career forever, and Toni had her mother and the college keeping her on the East Coast. Was something more impossible? How could they click so naturally but be unable to be together?

Although Saturday night was bliss again when they were naked together, Toni continued to be a bit hot and cold, withdrawing into herself when they were not having sex or after she answered a too-personal question, but she also opened up more and more.

Addie shoved away the bigger issues of long-term impossibilities.

In the short term, the worst thing since arriving for the weekend was the realization that Toni was a cover thief.

When Addie woke to an alarm far too early Sunday morning, she made a mental note that she might have to get up and get dressed in the night after she had sex with Toni.

The alternative appeared to be waking up freezing every morning.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, fake wife.” Addie shivered as she slipped out of bed in search of a robe or something. “You’re a cover thief.”

Toni blinked up at her. “What?”

“I’m freezing—” Addie tugged on Toni’s shirt from the night before. “—because you are a cover thief.”

In fairness, Toni looked guilty. “I don’t usually do sleepovers, Addie. So I don’t have a lot of practice at sharing my bed with friends. You’ll have to adjust, or we can see if—”