Lilli…

The fall day was crisp as I got out of the towncar at the curb by Bayside Park. I thanked the driver and handed him a decent tip. He tipped his smart-looking uniform cap that I had no name for and said, “Always a pleasure, Ms. Banks. Just give us a call or text if and when you need picked up.”

I smiled warmly and said, “Thank you, Antonio.”

He smiled tightly and gave a nod, and went back around to the driver’s side. He pulled away from the curb, leaving me to scan the park. I stood at the top of some broad stone steps that led down into a wide, flat cement courtyard of sorts. The park was built out into an observation platform that doubled as a jetty. The Chesapeake Bay lapped at the stone platform it was built out over.

In the center of this cement expanse was a fountain, a bronze statue of Poseidon and his trident in the center, mermaids and fish carved into the stone comprising the fountain basin.

There were aisles and rows of pop-up tents off to my left, and beyond them the roofs of food trucks and a bunch of tables set up for people to eat. Past that were the park’s trails and grass; trees with falling leaves dotted it here and there, while people meandered.

I scanned the people milling around the fountain for Backdraft and laughed when I saw him approaching with a cup of coffee in each hand. I descended the steps and reached out for the one he held out to me.

“Right on time,” he said. “I like it.”

“I hate being late. I’m the kind of person who will show up an hour early for something and wait around just so I’m never late. I swear to God, it’s almost a phobia.”

He laughed. “I don’t know that I’m quite that bad, but yeah. On-time is just polite; don’t be wasting people’s time.”

I smiled and took a tentative sip of the coffee, it was good and sweet, just the way I liked it, and the perfect drinking temperature. I felt my lips curl in pleasure around the plastic lid and Backdraft smiled at me around his.

“Shall we?” he asked and jerked his head in the direction of the tents.

“Absolutely, we shall,” I said laughing and was surprised at just how giddy I was feeling, how excited I was to see him.

We moved in that direction and he asked “So, how’d your week go?”

I said, “Okay. Busier than I’d like. I didn’t get much writing done when all I wanted to do was write. There’s a lot going on with the back end of things. They want to option a few more of my books for film and the screenwriters have been in touch. They’re surprisingly really great at asking for my input now. They don’t always take what I have to say into consideration, but they always explain the ‘why’ of it, you know? Like why it won’t work, or why it has to be the way they want to do it, so that’s nice. I was really surprised about that, especially after the first movie.” I rolled my eyes and he laughed.

“Yeah, the way it comes across sometimes, it’s like once you sell the rights for something like that, it’s theirs to do whatever the hell they want to do with it.”

I perked up and felt another surge of excitement, “That’s exactly what I thought, too, for the first one and I was like ‘Oh, hell no!’ With how much of a bear it was in the contractual stage to get me in as a consult, I was very surprised that they were so willing to have me there when it came to the writing. Still was really hard for me for the first film. Honestly, what I’ve found, is that a lot gets filmed and everything is fine right up until the editors get a hold of it.” I made a face. “That’s where things can really go sideways. I’ve seen a full-on screaming match between a director and a film’s editors. It was pretty wild and uncomfortable.”

“Wow, sounds like,” he said and took a drink. “Uncomfortable because a bunch of grown-ass adults acting like toddlers or...?”

“Ah, you caught that, huh?” I asked. “No, it was mostly because the director was freaking out about them ruining quote unquote ‘his vision’ all the while I’m standing there thinking to myself, Really? I mean, really?” I gave Backdraft a cross-eyed look and he laughed.

“It was a movie out of your book!”

“Oh, my god, right? That’s what I thought, but apparently, this guy was like once he took it on it was all his, and I didn’t matter anymore. Working on that project was the worst. So stressful. We went back and drove some even harder bargains when the studio wanted to pick up more of my books. It was hard, too. There’s so many good books and stories out there waiting to be told that they could have easily at any time been like ‘Um, no’ and dropped us like a hot potato but lucky for us, that didn’t happen; they were just as over that director as we were.”

He laughed and said, “Good deal, good deal. Sounds like maybe you and your team or whatever got a bit of firefighter in you, too.”

I laughed and blushed, suddenly embarrassed about being such a chatterbox but this was the first time I’d gone out since our dinner and had interaction with another adult. The kids down at the pool in my building didn’t count.

He’d provided me the perfect segue, though, and I took it, asking, “What about you? How did your week go?”

“Ahhh, I try to leave work back at work,” he said. “It was a pretty good week, though. We won more than we lost, so there’s that.”

I nodded and pressed my lips together, bowing my head some as my heart went out to him. I think I was one of the few that even though I didn’t walk the walk, I could talk the talk, so to speak. I couldn’t imagine doing his job, but at the same time, I could. Imagination was sort of my job, so there was that.

I said, “I imagine it’s a tough thing, more than any of you guys let on, you know, when you lose some.” I took in a cleansing breath and let it out. “I want to say I couldn’t imagine what you do, but it’s kind of my thing.” I wrinkled my nose a little and he smiled big.

“Yeah, I guess that’s a good way of looking at it. I guess it’s like you get it without ever getting the full brunt of it. That’s a mixed bag for sure.” I smiled faintly and swallowed a bit of my coffee as we slow-walked.

“Thanks for that,” I said shyly, cautiously.

“For what?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling.

“For not just blowing me off and saying how I can’t possibly get it. You’d be surprised at how often I get that from people.”

“Wow, yeah, condescending much?” he asked.

I wrinkled my nose and murmured, “Welcome to basically what it is to be a romance author to like half to three-quarters of the population. Especially to men.”

“Again,” he said nodding. “I could see it. I mean, we were out at the grocery store the other day and some of the guys gave me a ration of shit for even looking at one of your books on the shelf. Can’t imagine what they’d say if they actually saw me with it in my hand.”

I looked at him and said, “Why didn’t you just tell them you knew me?” I asked. “I bet that would have shut them up.”

He kind of frowned a little and said, “I didn’t want to. After our conversation the other night, it kind of felt like I’d be diming you out, you know? Like I’d be blowing your cover or something. I didn’t want to do that to you.”

I stopped in my tracks and stared at him, a little wide-eyed. That was quite possibly the sweetest and most considerate thing anyone had ever done for, or said to me.

I said as much. “That’s really very sweet of you, Backdraft, but I honestly don’t hide it at all. I just typically don’t go around shouting it from the rooftops. If it would save you some grief, you’re more than welcome to impart that information.”

He’d stopped with me and smiled that brilliant and disarming smile that made my heart trip in my chest. I smiled back, suffused more with warmth from that smile of his than I was from the coffee I held in my hand.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Lil. I’ll keep that in mind,” he said and we resumed our walk, reaching the edge of the tents. “Where do you want to start?” he asked.

“Um, how about this end?” I pointed the way of the produce and he gave a nod.

It was a beautiful fall day, the sun high in the wide blue sky despite the weather report calling for afternoon rain.

We perused the stalls slowly, and I ran my gaze over every color and just tried to absorb every sight, sound, and interaction between people like a sponge. Eventually, Backdraft asked about the night we met, but surprisingly, it didn’t hurt or sting like I expected it to. Likewise, I expected to feel overwhelmed with humiliation or embarrassment, but neither of those really reared their ugly heads, either.

I sighed uncertainly, I didn’t really want to tell the story but I supposed it needed telling so I said, “I met Mark the day I moved in to the Echelon.”

I told him about that first night and how things went over the next few months, and the humiliation started to creep in the further along in the story I got. How did I account for ignoring the warning signs? The missed dates, the quick phone calls that were far quicker than they should have been if he were really as into me as he said he was? The answer was, now that I looked back on it, that I couldn’t and that was, more than anything, the source for my embarrassment now.

Backdraft nodded, “You’re not the only one,” he confessed. “Happens to the best of us; it really does. My ex, Torrid, suckered me but good. Was even doing one of the guys in my own firehouse.”

He shook his head and tossed his empty coffee into one of the trash cans at the intersection of one of the next squares of pop-ups in the Market’s grid. He held out a hand for mine and gave me a questioning look to ask if I was done. I drained the last sweet dregs in a big mouthful and handed my cup over. He tossed it for me.

I felt my forehead wrinkle and asked him, “What kind of name is Torrid?”

“Ah, that would be her road name. Her real name is Victoria or Tori for short.”

“Sounds like she was maybe a bit of a wild child?” I hazarded a guess.

He laughed, “Was? Yeah no, try is. None of my brothers really liked her, either. My dumping her ass isn’t about to slow her down.” He sighed and shook his head and my heart echoed the look of hurt that flickered through his eyes and mirrored the disappointment on his face. We were two of a kind, so it seemed, when it came to cheaters and broken hearts.

“Brothers as in the firehouse or the motorcycle club?” I asked, as much for clarification as to steer towards a change of subject.

He laughed again and said, “Both sets of bros, actually. Well, except for Ackley, who was the assclown on my shift that was boning her behind my back.”

I winced and said, “That’s almost worse, her cheating with someone you worked with and that person knowing and hiding it from you. I mean, ugh! Just ugh.”

“Yeah, I know, right?”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I murmured, and he looked me over and nodded.

“You know, you’re a cool chick, Lil. I’m sorry that guy, Mark, took advantage of you like he did. We both deserved better than what we got when it came to all that.”

I said dryly, “There’s certainly no shortage of assholes in the world; is there?”

He laughed and nodded, and said, “You’ve got that right.”

A voice called out from down the aisle, “Yo, Backdraft!”

Both of us turned our heads at the same time. A much smaller man, with brown hair and a matching, trim beard, waved at us from down the way. He had on a leather jacket and vest that was a match for Backdraft’s and I had to smile.

“I’d ask if he was a friend of yours, but it seems kind of obvious,” I said.

Backdraft laughed, “That would be Yale. He’s one of the city’s ADA’s.”

“I see, the attorney you mentioned.”

“Yeah,” he said with a grin, like he was pleased I’d paid attention, which, why wouldn’t I?

Yale turned and said something to an equally small blonde woman who was bent over and looking at some handmade funky jewelry at a stall. She straightened and said something back and Yale raised a hand in our direction. She looked our way, smiled at Backdraft, and waved.

“That’s Aly Cat. She’s Yale’s girlfriend,” Backdraft told me, but then her eyes fixed on me and widened.

“Uh-oh,” I said with a smile, and sure enough, the next thing anyone knew there was this squealing girl jumping up and down excitedly in their midst, apparently going a little batty for no apparent reason.

“Woah, busted,” Backdraft remarked coolly, watching Aly’s antics with mild interest.

She gripped Yale’s shoulder excitedly and babbled in a rush as they walked this way, but by the expression on his face, he wasn’t getting even half of what she was spilling in his ear. To be fair, she was talking really fast.

“I have to call Dawnie! Can I call Dawnie?” she asked and Yale blinked at her, bewildered.

“You never have to ask permission to call your best friend, Pet. I keep telling you that,” he said, but they’d reached us, and she was back to squealing enthusiastically, and all I could do was smile.

“Yes, hi. Backdraft tells me your name is Aly,” I said, laughing and holding out my hand, taking hers and shaking it. She was so overwhelmed her hand just sort of hung limp from mine, like she forgot what she was supposed to do with it.

Awwww! I thought when it was apparent she was so excited she was tearing up and unable to speak for a moment. There were people looking at us now and I felt my cheeks heat. I hated being the center of attention, but her enthusiasm was taking the edge off of that. It sometimes helped when they were this excited. It was the sort of excitement that was infectious and made me just as happy to meet a reader as they were to meet me. Her emotion spilling through me via our conjoined hands meant that I was starting to get teary-eyed!

“I am so sorry,” Yale said. “I have no idea what’s gotten into her; I’ve never seen her like this.”

“It’s okay, I understand, it happens sometimes,” I told him.

“Baby,” Aly said, and her tears began to fall, “She’s Timber Philips!”

Yale’s look went blank as he tried to access the memory that would tell him who that was, but I could see he was coming up blank.

“That’s me,” I said sheepishly, and Backdraft looked on amused.

He finally helped his club brother out and said, “She writes romance novels.”

Understanding dawned on Yale’s face and he gave an enlightened nod. He held out a hand to me, his other arm going around Aly and hugging her comfortingly into his side as she tried to get her overwhelmed tears under control. I let her limp hand go so that I could shake Yale’s proffered one and it was like she regained the use of them. Both of them flew to her mouth as she tried to curb her enthusiasm, at least just enough so that people would quit staring at her like she’d gone completely mad.

“Damien Parnell, nice to meet you, Timber,” he said. “This is my girlfriend, Aly. As you can tell, she is somewhat of a super-fan of your books.”

I laughed a bit, relieved as the crowd around us began to disperse and I said, “Pleased to meet you, and it's Lillian, actually. Timber is just my pen name, not my given one.”

“I have to call Dawnie, she’ll never forgive me if I don’t.” Aly’s hands had come down and she had reached into her pockets and was already in the process of dialing her phone.

“How did you two meet?” Yale asked, looking between me and Backdraft.

“Oh, um…” I faltered and Backdraft came to the rescue. But of course he would. I thought with a smile. That’s what he does, after all.

“You were there, you gomer. Remember the woman I gave a ride home to from the 10-13, that one night? It was a few weeks back, maybe a month or more.”

Yale frowned and then that enlightened look crossed his face again. He nodded and said, “Ah, yes, that was you.”

Aly’s voice cut in and she said into her phone, “Oh my god, Dawnie! You’ll never guess who I am standing here with.”

I smiled and Backdraft nudged my arm with his elbow and gave me a look that asked Is it always like this? I kind of rolled my eyes a little bit and gave a half-shrug. Not always, but sometimes. Not always this intense but some iteration of the same. I smiled, and Aly’s rushed chatter filled the air and she held out her phone.

“Will you say something to her?” she asked hopefully.

“Oh, are you sure you don’t just want to send her a picture?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t help,” Yale said. I frowned slightly, puzzled.

“Dawnie’s blind,” Aly said by way of explanation.

“Oh,” I said hollowly, the wind knocked out of my sails a bit and the moment suddenly taking on far more gravity for me, more weight.

I took the phone without hesitation. “Hello, Dawnie?” I said.

“Holy shit, it is you,” I heard on the other end. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me!”

I laughed nervously and said, “It’s me, but I’ve gotta ask, how do you know?”

“I only listen to like every interview you’ve ever given ever! Holy crap, this is really happening! I’m really talking to Timber Philips on the phone!”

I laughed again and said, “Well, it would be really nice to meet you, some time. It’s a small city, so I am sure it will happen eventually.”

There were several heartbeats worth of silence as I looked at Aly and Yale, who were both looking at me with very different expressions, Yale’s almost apologetically embarrassed and Aly’s ecstatic.

Finally Dawnie said, “Wait, you live here?”

“I do, just moved here over the summer,” I said.

“Oh my god, this is the coolest thing ever!” Dawnie cried. “You gotta tell me, did my best friend totally act like a dork? I’m really hoping she totally acted like a dork.”

I laughed and said, “I’m going to hand her back now. It was nice talking with you, Dawnie.”

“Holy shit, this is like the best day of my life! I mean, it was nice talking to you, too.”

“Bye for now,” I said smiling and handed Aly the phone. She and Dawnie squealed all over again and some of the people around us even laughed. I could see a couple of girls with pieces of paper and pens in their hands standing off to the side with a mix of eagerness and dread on their faces, and I smiled warmly at them.

“Just a second,” I murmured to Backdraft.

“Not at all, duty calls, I get it,” he said affably.

I waved them over, determined to remain humble. Of course, the attention like this always got worse during a new book release or close to a movie’s premier. I was still getting used to it being the new normal, though. I was also determined to stay humble. These ladies, after all, were the reason I could afford to even be here, living this life. I owed them everything.

The two girls I motioned over to me broke into excited smiles and came forward, and I took my time to chat with them and sign their papers. Alas, the Timber Philips signature came more naturally to me than my own anymore. I can’t tell you how many binding legal documents I had screwed up and had to have reprinted so that I could re-sign them with the correct name.

I finished up with a few more signatures and turned back to Aly, Backdraft, and Yale. Aly had her hands over her mouth again, her eyes wide while Yale whispered in her ear.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked. “You were just trying to have a nice morning out and I totally blew it for you, didn’t I?” She looked like she was about to cry for a totally different reason now, and I couldn’t have that.

“Oh, no! No, no, no!” I said laughing. “Don’t you worry about a thing,” I assured her. She was so sweet and looked so fragile that I went over and hugged her, which was something I almost never did. She hugged me back and she was so overwhelmed by it all she was shaking, trembling finely.

“Still, I’m sorry, but you don’t understand. Dawnie and I have been reading your books since the very first one ever.”

“Wow!” That was a long time and a lot of books ago. “I am super honored to meet you, then,” and I was. I didn’t often get to meet someone who started reading me way back in my indie days anymore.

I stepped back and Backdraft asked, “You wanna grab lunch at the 10-13?” He looked at me as he asked, a suggestion more than a question in my case, and I thought it sounded like the perfect idea. It would get me out of the crowded public space and give Aly a little time to calm down.

“That sounds like a great idea,” I said. “Would you two like to join us?”

“You’re serious?” Aly asked, her look blank, as if I had just put her on overload.

“Of course, I am.”

“Can we?” she asked Yale, and her voice was brittle. Judging by the way his dark eyes swept over her, the answer was an unequivocal ‘Yes.’ That man was so in love with this girl, I couldn’t see him denying her anything.

What I wouldn’t give for a man to look at me like that someday. The thought came naturally but unbidden, and with it, a crushing sadness swept my soul. Still, it was like a cloud scudding over the sun. The light dimmed but didn’t go out, and as soon as the cloud passed the light was as strong as ever. It’d been a good long while since I’d been in such a good mood.

“Of course, we can,” Yale said with a smile, and Aly threw her arms around him and hugged him tight, giggling.

“If you don’t mind,” I said. “I’d like to go back and buy some of the honey that was being sold back there. I’m one of those ‘look at everything before you buy’ kind of people.”

I was met with a chorus of “Sure,” “Absolutely,” and “No problem.”

“Can I call Dawnie back and have her join us?” Aly asked, her bottom lip captured between her teeth, and I smiled.

“That sounds like a fine idea; I would really like that,” I said.