FALLEN (NOW PUBLISHED ON AMAZON)

63.

Unfortunately for everyone, I have to leave them to get ready for the last day of this convention. I wasn't supposed to participate again today, Edith didn't force me to, but I feel like I need some major good publicity after ditching journalists yesterday after the whole Paul/Marcel situation.

I head to my room, and change into a cute blouse with my usual black pant suit. I put on the same pair of heels I've had all weekend. I love this look. Even though I'm more of a casual person, looking this elegant and elevated gives me such a good confidence and esteem of myself. I feel like I belong, like I am worthy.

I walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth and notice for the first time something shining under the light next to the towels on the shelf by the sink. I spit out the toothpaste and rinse my toothbrush to put it in the plastic bag I have carried it in in my luggage.

I lean towards the shiny bracelet-like thing and reach for it. It's Marcel's watch. How could he have forgotten his Rolex? I take it closer and observe it. I've never realised how old it seems. I see lots of scratches and the wristband is clearly worn out. For me, it only shows how much he really cares for it to always wear it despite the aesthetics.

Without really thinking about it, I put it on my wrist and get ready to head downstairs. I get to my stand in the conference hall and look around me. Lot of authors are sitting at their stands, but surprisingly, half doesn't seem occupied. Again, acting on impulse, I take a big pile of my three-chapter book and walk around the hall. Every author writing in the same genre as I am that I see, I stop to chat. I introduce myself and my publishing house and offer the writer a copy with a passionate resume about the story and how much it means to me. Some are very appreciative and others barely look at the cover. I don't let it affect me, I have everything to gain by doing this. It's the best publicity for me, a newcomer.

There's one author that is occupied being interviewed, but I wait to absolutely meet. She's American and she has written the most compelling stories. Maybe I should let Sophie read them. I'm sure she'll love her books.

So, the second she is free, I charge towards her stand and sit on the chair next to her to make sure nobody keeps me from having a moment with her.

"Anna, it's such an immense pleasure to meet you." I let out and quickly wipe my hand on my trousers to offer it to her to shake.

"Nice to meet you too. What's your name?" She smiles immediately and shakes my hand. She is absolutely radiant.

"I'm Grace Hemingway, I'm the new writer for Wright Books. I'm sorry to come in so unexpected, I wanted to introduce myself. I was wondering if you would do me the honour of reading this excerpt of my story. My editor and I worked very hard on making it the best it can be."

"What about the rest of it? Is it written yet?"

"Yes, it is. But we couldn't print the whole book for this weekend, so we manage only to print the first three chapters."

"It's a great publicity stunt."

"I thought it was."

"What if I like it, can I read the rest?"

"Of course, yes! It would be amazing! It would be a dream, really."

"Why don't you tell me what it is about?" She rests both of her elbows on the stand and leans more towards me, seemingly interested.

I get more comfortable as well, and starting to think about my story makes me undeniably think about Marcel. My heart starts to race and I feel giddy. We have had so many great moments bonding and mostly arguing about my story, but I cherish these moments nonetheless.