Emilia was sitting in the makeup chair with her eyes closed. She still hadn’t gotten entirely used to public appearances, and ones that involved live television made her extremely skittish. All it took was one foot-in-the-mouth incident to be blacklisted, and she really didn’t feel like starting over yet again. One name change was plenty enough in a lifetime.
The music to get the crowd going was blaring down the halls, which didn’t give her any quiet moments to collect her thoughts. She didn’t remember being this nervous when she’d been on this show before, but she’d had a lot less at stake.
Regardless, Emilia came here in a good mood, and she hoped to keep it that way. She was so relieved that Suzanne was okay with the direction her writing took. Emilia had received the list of questions and understood that at some point, she should hit on those topics, but right now, Emilia just wanted the writing to carry her forward.
“You all set for today?” the makeup artist asked Emilia.
Emilia blinked her eyes open as the makeup artist dusted bronzer onto her cheeks.
“I think so.” Emilia smiled and nodded, hoping that the makeup artist’s tattooed eyebrows, false lashes, and hot pink lipstick weren’t indicative of Emilia’s final look. That was partly why she’d kept her eyes shut. Emilia really didn’t want to look in the mirror to see a clown staring back at her.
Ever since Emilia went back to her natural strawberry blonde hair, she tried to stay away from lots of makeup. It was funny that it took her changing her name before she became somewhat comfortable in her own skin. When she was growing up, she wanted to do everything in her power to change how she looked. Whether it was dying her hair dark or gobbing on tons of makeup, she tried to erase Hailee Howard from a young age.
The door swung open, and Emilia glanced over to see the production assistant smiling, carrying a tablet. “You’ve got five minutes until we go live.”
The makeup artist smiled and smudged her index finger along Emilia’s left cheekbone.
“No problem,” the makeup artist told the P.A. and then whispered to Emilia. “Just touching up your scar.”
Emilia’s entire body stiffened at the mention of the scar. She’d gotten so used to looking at it over the years that she didn’t think how the tiny mark might catch someone’s eye. She thought back to how she injured herself and flashed a smile to the makeup artist.
“Oh, thanks. I didn’t even remember it.”
The makeup artist placed the brush in her fabric carrier and began rolling the case up.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” she gushed. “Definitely camera-ready, but it’s people like you who make my job easy.”
“I think I need to keep you around for my ego.” Emilia decided she better look in the mirror.
Wow! Not so bad. Emilia had to admit that she was amazed at what she saw. She wasn’t overdone. If anything, she looked like she was wearing less makeup, but she knew that not to be true.
“Thank you.” Emilia hopped out of her chair and gave the makeup artist a quick hug. “You worked your magic for sure.”
The P.A. opened the door again as Emilia made her way over.
“Two minutes,” he stated flatly. “You ready?”
“Sure am.” Emilia had to keep in a chuckle at how very uninspiring this P.A. appeared to be. Usually, the P.A. tried to pump up the guests on the way out to the soundstage to get them excited to go out and talk to the host and see the audience.
Instead, Emilia felt like she was walking out to her own funeral. She followed the P.A. down the long, narrow corridor and heard the host introducing her to the audience.
Her stomach flipped as the crowd applauded and she glanced toward a curtain leading to a different part of the set. And that’s when she caught a shadow of someone she couldn’t believe.
Josh Turner.
Her breath caught in her throat, but as quickly as she saw him, he vanished behind the curtain. She shook her head and glanced at the production assistant who was motioning for Emilia to walk onto the stage.
Emilia had to be imagining things. She looked toward the curtain and saw no sign of him or anyone. Not even a ripple in the fabric. Emilia was probably losing her mind since Josh had been on it so much recently.
Sliding her hands over her pencil skirt, she glanced over her shoulder one more time as she walked out to thunderous applause. The female host walked toward her to shake her hand and lead her to the informal living room set. The lights were almost blinding, but Emilia kept focused and followed the host’s lead.
Emilia waved at the audience, who continued to cheer as she took her seat. She crossed her legs and ran her tongue over her lips to moisten them. It was as if she could barely swallow after her imaginary run-in.
So this was off to a great start.
“Emilia Hudson, it’s so nice to have you back,” the host began. “You have quite a following.”
The audience began cheering, and Emilia’s eyes scanned the crowd of strangers, amazed that these people were applauding her when she felt like she’d done so little.
“It’s great to be here.” She folded her hands in her lap and turned her attention back to the host.
“That’s right, folks. World-renowned relationship expert, Emilia Hudson, is here in our studio today, and she’s here to answer your questions.”
The crowd erupted into more cheers, and Emilia took a deep breath.
“I don’t know about that.” Emilia laughed, and the audience ate it up.
“Well, we put out a call to your fans that you were coming, and we certainly heard from them. One woman even flew out from Florida, isn’t that right?” The host focused on a woman standing in front of a microphone in the audience, and Emilia smiled and waved at the woman.
Being cited as a relationship expert made Emilia uneasy. It reminded her of all the matchmakers who charged crazy amounts of money, but they were always single themselves. If they couldn’t figure out their own matches, how in the world could they figure out matches for others?
“Hi, Emilia. I love your blog.”
“Thank you for reading it.” Emilia smiled.
“So my question is, am I too picky? I constantly go on dates, and ten times out ten, there is something about the guy that’s just a red flag. Like, I want to get married, and maybe they don’t, or I love cats, and they hate cats.” The woman giggled and stepped away from the microphone and took her seat.
“Listen,” Emilia began, straightening up and addressing the woman. “There’s no such thing as being too picky when you’ve had enough. It doesn’t matter what the reason is. If you don’t feel like the relationship can go anywhere, why bother trying a second date or a fourth date? You’re wasting everyone’s time at that point. You know in your gut if there’s a fit because I guarantee you, if the perfect guy for you came along and he happened to hate cats, you’d figure it out. And thank you for coming so far to see me. I’d love to chat more with you after the show.”
The audience member beamed, and the host started clapping with the audience soon following.
“So true,” the host agreed. “My husband announced on our first date that he had no intentions of ever marrying. If any other man had told me that, I would have run away, but he said it, and I became more determined. Two kids and a fifteen-year marriage later, and I couldn’t agree with your advice more.”
“Thanks.” Emilia felt in her element. “I feel that as women, we tend to put so much pressure on ourselves that we can miss out on what our gut is telling us, and I’m pretty sure guys aren’t giving half as much thought to the things as we do.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” she agreed. “Our next audience member is from close-to-home in Bellingham. Still quite a drive, though. Go ahead, Melinda from Bellingham.”
Another woman walked up the microphone and cleared her throat.
“Hi. So, um... my question is about the actual dates. I think the guys think I like them when I don’t. I’m not sure if I’m just too nice or what I’m doing wrong. I don’t want to not be who I am, but I seem to send mixed signals.”
“Are you saying they all expect you to sleep with them?” Emilia asked, and the crowd laughed.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Honey, that’s not you. That’s the entire male species.” Emilia smiled, and the crowd erupted. “Except for maybe a few rare ones. Now, the trick is finding the rare ones. Just remember to go on each date armed with the ability to say no, thank you. If the guy doesn’t appeal to you, ditch ‘em before you let your emotions foreshadow a future that’s not genuine. You can still be your cute, flirty self and turn them down. Never feel like you have to go to that next level unless that’s the headspace you’re in. And if you enjoy connecting in that physical way knowing there won’t be another date, don’t beat yourself up either.”
The woman started laughing and shaking her head. “My parents are probably covering their ears right now.”
“Probably.” Emilia chuckled and turned back to face the host, but not before she caught a man darting between the curtains toward the audience.
Her heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to regain control. There was not a reason in the world Josh Turner would be in Seattle at some event Emilia was speaking at.
“But you know? Every now and again, I start to wonder if love is not only overrated, but possibly an elaborate ploy by chocolate manufacturers, rose growers, and jewelers to keep solvent,” she teased, only not really.
The crowd ate her up, and she was relieved they got her joke. Only, she wasn’t sure if she was kidding. She hadn’t been on any dates since Daniel or Richard, and her job primarily depended on her getting out there. And now she saw ghosts of relationships past, which opened a whole new can of worms. She shook off the last thought as quickly as it came.
“Now, is it true you’re working on a book?” the host asked, and Emilia shook herself free of the familiar, yet very much make-believe, energy threatening to overtake her.
“I am. I’m sure my publisher would appreciate it if I worked a little faster on it though.”
The crowd laughed, and Emilia let out a long, silent breath.
“And how has that process been different from writing a blog?” the host continued.
“You know, it’s been a lot more emotional than I thought it would be. I’m enjoying the process, but it’s nothing like getting to talk with readers and discuss issues that are outside of my control, whereas this book is a conversation with myself, and it’s not all rosy, but I think readers want that same authenticity from me, and it requires some deep dives.”
“Well, I’m sure your fans will love it.”
“I really hope so.” Emilia nodded, feeling a nervous flutter at the thought of exposing so much about herself.
“Okay, we have one more question from the audience.” The host smiled and turned her attention to the crowd, as did Emilia.
And that was when her world stopped.
It felt like the ground underneath Emilia had split in half, and she was falling down a never-ending crevice with nothing and no one to hold onto as she stared at Josh Turner.
He stepped up to the microphone dressed in a dashing suit, and his lips curled up slightly.
“Hi, Emilia. I don’t know if you remember me, but it’s nice to see you again.”
“You know him?” the host asked.
“I do,” Emilia barely uttered. “Very well.”
Emilia felt her hands trembling and quickly refolded them on her lap so the cameras wouldn’t pick up her shakiness.
Everything about Josh Turner was even sexier than she remembered. Granted, the last time she saw him, Josh was only eighteen, but the man he’d become took Emilia’s breath away.
Every cell in Emilia’s body was on fire as he looked straight at Emilia. Her heart was thudding at an uncontrollable rate as his brilliant blue eyes stayed locked on hers.
“My question is this—what if you find yourself unable to get over your first love?”