Page 2

“ W averly! The new delivery is here.”

Sara’s heeled shoes click-clacked down the hallway to my office in the small bookstore I owned in New York City.

“Just a sec.”

I smiled at my part-time employee and friend standing in my small office doorway.

“I’m just finalizing some things for the signing tomorrow,” I explained, clicking print on a couple of documents and shutting my laptop.

Sara quirked her pale blonde eyebrow at me and smirked. We’d been friends for most of our lives but she had only been working for me part-time the last few months to make ends meet. She was a tall, willowy blonde with sparkling blue eyes, and a chic sense of style.

Wearing a floor-length pink maxi dress with her hair a cascade of beach waves down her back, she definitely belonged somewhere on a runway, not working in my small, dark-romance bookstore, but I was grateful for her help and friendship.

“How bad are you fangirling right now?”

“Stop. I’m nervous enough to finally meet her in-person. I cannot believe my favorite author is coming to my tiny, indie bookstore for her debut signing. This may actually be an enjoyable Valentine’s Day.”

Valentine’s Day was such a joke. I stuck to the bitter thought process that it was a holiday that had been created by candy and jewelry companies to continue to drive sales after Christmas. Real love didn’t need some store bought card and an expensive box of chocolates that tasted like cardboard. Real romance was found in the day-to-day moments.

I brushed my brown hair out of my eyes, tucking the shoulder length tresses behind my ear. Glancing at my reflection in the small mirror I shook my head. Sara and I didn’t look like we’d be friends. While she was nearly six foot I was standing at a solid five-foot-four. I was curvy, brown-eyed, and easily passed over in a crowd. I tugged my black shirt down further, trying to hide the curve of my stomach, and pushed my glasses up my nose.

“I may actually have to dress up to impress her tomorrow,” I continued nervously.

“Oh, please. She sees your videos on your social media and responds all the time. No other author supports you like G. Barlowe does.”

I grinned at her as we walked out of my cozy office and back down the short hall into the main part of the bookstore. I was going with cozy vibes and everything was done in black and gray with splashes of red here and there. I had gotten involved in the book community online four years ago and gravitated towards dark-romances with obsessed, stalker, red-flag, and/or masked men – thanks to them trending on all the social media apps I frequented. When I’d opened my store last year it had been a shot in the dark.

Lovelorn Books was a risk, but with the way people were feral for dark-romance nowadays I didn’t regret it. I offered shirts for different seasons throughout the year but the primary focus was the plethora of dark-romance books from traditionally published authors and indie authors alike. They filled the black bookshelves and tables, creating a library feel to the area. The gothic chandeliers I’d chosen provided lighting that was soft yet still allowed people to read the pages in the comfy chairs I had scattered around the store.

“Waverly, everything looks perfect,” Sara breathed looking around contentedly as she met the delivery man to sign for the boxes of books G. Barlowe had sent ahead. The author and I had become close friends a year ago even though she remained a mystery to me.

She never shared her full name, pictures, or anything of the sort. We talked daily on social media and had even started texting recently. It often felt like a competition to see who could like the other’s content more each day. I often thought I got flirty vibes from her, even though I was fairly certain she was a woman. As a debut indie author, I’d been shocked when she'd reached out to me to help her with her debut novel. Being able to Alpha read an unpublished book and help her create stories had been a thrill. I was even helping her with the inner workings of a social media bookish account and it had been a blast.

“I hope she’s as impressed when she gets here,” I worried out loud, thanking the delivery man and locking the door behind him. We were closing early tonight for the Valentine’s Day signing tomorrow.

“Why don’t you go home, Sar?” I encouraged her. “I am just going to finish setting these books up at the signing table and then I'll head out myself.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, although I could tell she was excited at the prospect of an early reprieve. Her husband had planned an anniversary trip for them this weekend, long before this signing was scheduled.

“Yes. I’m positive, babe. Enjoy yourselves. Don’t worry about anything here.” I promised with a wave.

“Okay, good luck tomorrow. Send me pictures. I still hate that I’m missing this meeting,” she pouted.

“I plan on doing some live streaming and taking a ton of pictures for the both of us. I’m sure G. will as well.” I assured her.

Hugging my friend and seeing her off, I took a deep breath. The shop was probably going to be swamped tomorrow.

Organizing the regular editions of the debut novel and the special, signing exclusives into aesthetically pleasing stacks on the black, cloth-covered table I’d set up near the front windows was a painstaking task.

I really was nervous about this. Manning the store alone was manageable on most days, but I was positive G. Barlowe was going to draw in a crowd. BETA and ARC readers had been raving about this book for months.

As I broke down the boxes and carried them back to the storage room just past my office, I ducked inside quickly to sit back at my desk. Pulling my phone out I saw I’d missed a text from the author in question.

G. Barlow:

Did everything show up okay? I decided to fly in early tonight to get some extra sleep. If I’d been thinking I could’ve just brought them by tonight myself.

Me:

LOL. Anxious about tomorrow…? That’s fine, I didn’t mind unboxing and setting everything up. I’m just getting ready to close for the evening. Everything is all set! I’m so excited.

G. Barlowe:

I’m not anxious at all. Just very ready to finally meet you in person. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to thank you for all the support and love you have shown myself and my book.

Me:

I still wish you could’ve brought GhostX along with you for this. That would’ve made everything even more epic.

I waited a few minutes but the phone didn’t go off again. She always stopped talking when I brought up the masked influencer that highlighted her novel. The man was supposed to be indicative of the main male character in her book, and the man was HOT. No one had seen his face of course, that was part of the magic of the masked community. CallSign GhostX was six-foot-four, heavily tattooed from the neck down, with piercings in his eyebrow, nipples, and ears. Sometimes I even let myself daydream that he might have piercings in other places too. I shivered at the thought. Fuck, that man was sexy.

In my free time from creating content for myself, reading, and running Lovelorn Books I found myself on social media and my news feeds were swamped with masked men and dark-romance videos. I tried to tune into GhostX’s lives as much as I could. Engaging in that side of social media was such an ego boost for someone like me. I could practice my flirting and know there would never be any expectations. I’d been single for two years now and been in just as long of a dry spell, sexually.

Frequenting, the chats and lives with my internet friends gave me an amazing, safe outlet. It was a community that made me feel less lonely and bonded to something other than Sara and my bookstore. I didn’t have many friends outside of Sara in my real life. I’d always been a little shy and socially awkward, but G. Barlowe, GhostX, and their community never made me feel that way.

Opening my inbox on my more used social media platform, I saw that I’d had a message from the masked man himself.

CallSignGhostX:

Having a good evening, sweet girl? Ready for the big signing tomorrow?

Yes, the man even called me a sweet girl. I knew he probably treated all his followers like that, but it was good for my confidence. Sue me.

LoveLornDark:

I’m ready and anxious! Just sorry you couldn’t make it! That would’ve been epic. To meet my two favorite people from the internet all in one day.

CallSignGhostX:

Ah, well, perhaps next time. I know G. Barlowe will treat you well and be more than enough for you.

LoveLornDark:

Well, as long as you promise a future event at my bookstore sometime yourself. The women (and men) would flock.

CallSignGhostX:

We’ll see. Have sweet dreams of me. No staying up late looking at all these other masked men on here.

LoveLornDark:

Possessive, are we? Wink wink.

CallSignGhostX: That’s the understatement of the decade. The things that I would do to you.

I fanned my face, grinning like an idiot at my phone while shaking my head. These men on this app . Standing from my office chair, I grabbed my tote bag and checked to make sure I had everything before tossing my phone in as well. I had a three-block walk to my apartment from the store, and it was best not to be distracted at night in this city.

Trekking back to the front of the store in my tennis shoes I shut and locked the door behind me, tugging on it to be sure it was secure. I took a deep breath and started my journey home to get ready for the big day.