my misfortunate blunder and greeting other guests warmly.
It’s only then that I realize something. He’s not dressed. Well, I mean, he has clothes on—unfortunately, because I felt those muscles up close and personal—but he’s not dressed up for the dinner. He’s wearing all black . . . like a staff member.
Way to go, Poppy. Not only did you literally fall into someone and make a fool out of yourself, but it’s a staff member who has better things to do than keep you from splatting on the floor. Like . . . his job.
“Oh, fuck. You’re not an author, are you?” I blurt out.
I watch his smile melt and his face turn to stone. It should make him seem cold and lessen his attractiveness, but the clench of his jaw only serves to make him look fierce and hard, something I didn’t know could be so panty-melting.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound rude,” I try to apologize.
But the moment is gone, and without excusing himself, he walks away. I can’t help but keep my eyes glued to him, all confidence and swagger as he moves toward the stage, quietly saying something to another man dressed in all black. Like a good reader, I use my context clues and realize that not only is he not an author, but he’s not staff. He’s security.
And I’m a total dork, and a bitch too.
A woman onstage taps the microphone, the telltale thump garnering everyone’s attention. “Please find your places, and we’ll begin.” I’m thankful to see that there are ivory place cards on each plate so I don’t have to find a place to sit on my own. I see my name and sit down, hanging my bag on the chair behind me. Some of the other authors have set their bags and briefcases down in the workshop area by their nameplates, but I’m too paranoid and can’t let my laptop, my manuscript, my baby, be that far from my reach.
J.A. Fox steps to the microphone. “Welcome, everyone!” she says in a posh British accent that sounded so perfect and fancy the first time I heard her do an interview with Oprah. I sit up straight in my chair, wishing I could pull out my laptop to take notes as she speaks, but there’s not really room with my plate in front of me. And it’s not a college lecture, so it’s probably not appropriate.
“I appreciate everyone taking time out of their busy writing schedules to come eat a bite with me today,” she says, looking around. “Hopefully, we’ll have full bellies, fresh ideas, and flowing inspiration by the end of our session. If you could, while the staff bring out our repast, stand and introduce yourself for everyone. Thank you.”
J.A. Fox nods to the woman on the far left of the table, and she stands up, speaking with a clear, confident voice as she’s obviously done this before. “I’m Louisa Magnum, author of the best-selling Oakhurst Family series.”
Oh, I know that one even if I didn’t know the face. The woman next to her stands up, and introductions continue around the table, each name seemingly more impressive than the last. Finally it’s my turn, and I manage to introduce myself, though not without difficulty. “I’m Woody Popstock. I mean, Poppy Woodstock. I wrote Love in Great Falls.”
Okay, that went well. I mean, I got English words out of my mouth, and I did it without projectile puking. I’m taking the win. But I’m not going to risk it by eating the chicken and potatoes a server set down in front of me.
After introductions finish, J.A. Fox takes the microphone again. “Please, feel free to eat. A bit of dinner is the least I can offer so you’ll let an old lady blabber on.”
With that encouragement, I try to at least appear to be enjoying the food, picking up my fork along with everyone else. I nibble at my salad, pretending to enjoy lettuce, tomato, and ranch dressing while the Grand Dame gives a speech.
It’s actually interesting as she gives lots of insight on how she found inspiration for her latest book in the famous painting at her side. Listening to her warm up and bring us into the swirling galaxy of disconnected thoughts that coalesced into an entire story that captured the hearts of many is nothing short of amazing.
“And of course, I’m obligated to tell you that having a good editor is essential,” J.A. says, earning laughs. “If not, my