Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
“Oh, wow,” the woman said to Lyric as that steel door slammed shut. “You look amazing. And hi, I’m Jenny.”
“Hi, Jenny, doesn’t she just shine?” Marcia pulled an old school Vanna White as her affect of emphasizing words came back with a vengeance. “She’s an absolute star.”
“She is! I’m so happy to meet you, and thanks for coming. Valentina is really excited you’re here.”
Lyric shook the hand that was extended, but her attention was on the closed door. She kept thinking she was going to hear a knock or her phone was going to vibrate. But… nothing.
“I’m excited to be here,” she said with a forced smile.
“Now, there’s been a slight change in plan. Valentina really wanted to meet you beforehand for the footage with you, but we’re going to need to get all that after the intro address? It won’t take long and I’m sure you don’t mind. An opportunity to hear her speak is a special thing. Great!”
Lyric opened her mouth. Shut it.
“I think that’s a fabulous idea,” Marcia chimed in. “We’d love to be included—up in the front row, of course.”
“Of course! We’ll just head this way,” the staffer said as she set off to the left. Then she glanced back at Marcia. “She has quite the following.”
“It’s so hard to get penetration these days.” Marcia shook her head gravely, like she was commenting on an asteroid heading for earth. “But Lyric’s engagement is through the roof. You can have people with more followers, but her audience engages.”
“Yes, we saw the statistics you sent over…”
Lyric followed the two down the corridor, letting them talk shop. She told herself her silence was because she had to be careful about foot placement—with the pinpoint heels of her boots, if she hit her stride wrong, she was going to land on her ass. But that was so not it.
So not it.
Jenny escorted them through a maze of high-ceilinged, roughed-in corridors, and every time they came up to a door, Lyric prayed they’d go through it and get on some carpeting. And all along the way, she turned her hand over and looked at her phone so many times the motion became a nervous tic.
“And here we are just outside the lobby.” Jenny finally paused by a set of double doors. “Registration is wrapping up, although a few attendees remain in line. Still, I’d like us to go through here to get to the greenroom because it’s a super long walk otherwise, and in those boots?”
When the rush of words stopped, Lyric just stood there—until Marcia elbowed her and she clicked back into place. “Oh, of course, this is fine.”
“Wow.” Jenny put her hand to her chest, tangling her fingers in the lanyard. “You are so easy to deal with.”
As Marcia nodded with approval, the staffer opened the door, and—
The cacophony was incredible. So many voices, so much movement, so many perfumes and bath lotions, shampoos and hairsprays. The convention center’s lobby was the size of a football field with sets of escalators that ran up to the second level, and holy crap, if this massive crowd was only “a few” of the attendees? How many people were—
“Five thousand,” Jenny answered cheerfully. “And we’re hosting them over all three days.”
Okay, there was also a lot of purple, all different shades represented, and not only because of the branded convention bags that hung off shoulders: The clothes were purple, the hair was purple, there were people flashing purple tattoos of the R2E logo.
Jenny indicated to go forward. “This way—”
“Oh, my God, are you Lyric?”
“Wait, Lyric—of Lyrically Dressed!”
“—Lyric!”
“Holy shit, it’s—”
Instantly, a tight knot of people formed around her, separating her from Jenny and Marcia, and that was just the start of it all. More flooded over, the cell phones coming out, someone jumping in for a selfie, camera phones blinking their flashes.
Maybe it was the blood loss from the night before, maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t eaten much, maybe it was the strobing lights and her name being called, but things started spinning.
Lassiter? Calling her up for another chat?
If she heard more Madonna, she knew the answer to that—
As panic closed in and she frantically looked for Marcia, she saw nothing but a tidal wave of women dressed in purple. And then she got jostled, someone putting their arm around her waist and holding up a cell phone, another grabbing her arm and trying to pull her away. Meanwhile, more and more people were coming up, the bodies pressing into her, shoving her back against the wall, trapping her.
With a sickening dread, she felt like she couldn’t breathe, and as anxiety swelled, she became convinced there was no escape, ever: Her mind just shattered into discordant thoughts, and she started to hyperventilate.
Except all of a sudden, from out of nowhere, a looming presence cut through the crowd, forcing its way through—