Undercover Fangirl

Chapter 13

@FictionalEl:I am sitting in a dining hall near Hallie Dale and Cole Holt. Yeah,my life is pretty cool sometimes.

Hallieand I walk out of Blueberry Café. I am high on adrenaline. In justten minutes, I will be meeting with a publisher to talk about mybook. It still doesn't seem real-that my book will be read byhundreds or more people. The thought scares me but also makes mesqueal with excitement. In due time, I will be holding a book in myhands that I wrote. It took me a lot of time, tears, and writersblock to finally finish it. Days on ends I considered throwing mylaptop out the window from lack of motivation and thoughts. Therewere some rough times during the process but now I know all of thecrying I did was worth it.

"Reaganis being a mega beyotch. Seriously, that woman is one yell away frombeing pushed out of her chair. Even our director is getting fed-upwith her. Cole almost wants to quit; it's getting out of hand. Yourquitting didn't help either," Hallie shrugs her giant purse overher shoulder.

Myeyes focus on the large building ahead of us. Dale Publishing is abeautiful building in the middle of Los Angeles. The windows look sopristine. I picture all the authors I have read walking in for theirfirst meetings with the editor, cover designer, publicist, and therest of the team. Now it's my turn to walk into the meeting,eagerly awaiting book negotiations. My steps become slower as I beginto realize what all of this means for me. I will promote my book onTwitter and my blog, forever identifying who the face is behind thelaptop. A mixture of uneasiness and fascination reside in my stomach.This will be the perfect opportunity to let the world know I am nolonger an undercover fangirl. All nine thousand Twitter followerswill know. Maybe even people I know in real life will know about myfan account and book blog. Publishing my book will be an adventurefor sure.

"Reaganis egotistical. She thinks she's the next Jane Eyre or something."

Halliesnorts, covering her eyes with sunglasses. It isn't too uncommon tosee celebrities walking through the streets of Los Angeles. Morelikely than not, they're usually under some kind of disguise likeHallie is. She wears a long coat and a floppy hat along with a pairof large sunglasses. Her hair is tucked into her hat making heralmost undistinguishable. How weird that not even two months ago thatI didn't know any celebrities or authors personally. Now one of mygood friends is an A-list celebrity. My seventeen year old self wouldprobably laugh at the situation.

"Hereit is," Hallie gestures towards the doors leading to the building.

Iswallow a lump in my throat. The building looks a lot moreintimidating than it did a block away. The doorman greets us uponentrance. Hallie marches up to the front desk, telling her she'shere to meet up with her dad. The woman smiles and tells us to have agood day. I smile at her as I pass, wiping my hands on my blackpants. Mom insisted that I dress nice. So, here I am, standing inblack slacks and a red sheer blouse. Mom even managed to convince meto wear my black heels I reserve for inductions and weddings. Myheels clank against the tile until we reach the elevator. Hallietakes off her hat, shaking out her hair. We ride up to the top floorin silence. I see Hallie's phone screen. It looks like she's beentexting Cole, her so-called sworn enemy.

"Mydad is easy to warm up to. He's been in the business for twentyyears; he knows talent when he sees it. You have absolutely nothingto worry about. Please relax, shake it off," she winks at me at thesubtle mention of a Taylor Swift song.

Despitemy nerves, I manage a sincere laugh. "I'm trying to actnonchalant. Do I at least look it?"

Hallieputs her hand on my shoulder, "not in the least."

Pursingmy lips, I follow her to her dad's office. A secretary waitsoutside of his door. She gives us a greeting before realizing itsHallie walking through the door. "Does your father know you'recoming? He has a meeting with a prospective author in a couple ofminutes."