Chapter 32

HANNAH

A welcome breeze of fresh air hit me as I walked out of the Bergen Street subway station and headed down a residential street full of gorgeous brownstones and leafy green oak trees toward Court Street. I took a deep breath. Not only did it feel good to get out of the subway, which was never pleasant during summer, but it was also nice to get out of Manhattan. Brooklyn was only a bridge away, but it felt like a completely different world.

Now that I’d had time to process Michael’s revelation, my mood had lightened significantly. While I was still kicking myself about signing the wrong name in the pre-order book, it was a huge relief to get to the bottom of it and get the confirmation that there had been no sinister motivations behind the whole thing. And while the publicity meeting with Rosie and Lucy had not started as planned, I was happy that by the end we had a plan to help minimize interest in me.

I turned onto Court Street and was soon standing outside Cobble Hill Books. A pang of homesickness for Novel Gossip hit me as I peered through the large windows into the bookstore. Thank god the local community had rallied to save it. It was almost as cute and cozy as Novel Gossip. And damn, would I give anything for George to be there, behind the counter, her face lighting up like it usually did when I walked in to start my shift.

My lunch with Emma had gone longer than expected. Not only was there a lot to debrief on, given the events of the past few days, but we hadn’t caught up properly for months. I’d tried giving George a call after we’d finished, but she hadn’t responded, probably busy either working or entertaining her mom.

I shot off a text to George, letting her know I was about to go to Chris’s talk and wouldn’t be available for the next couple of hours, and then pushed open the door to the bookstore. The chairs that were lined up in rows were almost full, so I pulled off my hat and sunglasses, walked in, and took a seat at the back, giving Chris, who was seated at the front, a small wave on my way. They waved back, smiling, and a few audience members’ heads turned to look at me.

As I took a seat, it struck me that, for someone wanting to avoid the spotlight, going to a fellow fantasy author’s event while there was significant media attention on me was probably a terrible idea. This adorable bookstore was full of devoted fantasy readers, many of whom had probably read my books and seen the recent articles or social media posts. My heart sank, and I looked down to avoid any eye contact.

I got through the interview and audience QA without anyone recognizing me, but as I stood up to hide amongst the bookshelves until Chris had finished signing, a young man approached me, his face flushed.

“Excuse me. Um…sorry to bother you, but are you H. M. Stuart?”

I tensed and considered denying it, but lying didn’t sit right with me.

“Yes,” I said, trying for a smile. A group of people nearby must have overheard, as they turned to look and then edged closer to me.

I spent the next twenty minutes making small talk with a number of the attendees. While they were all lovely and only had positive things to say about my books, the experience just affirmed my decision to push back on my publicity team earlier today. My small-talk skills had improved, probably as a result of working at Novel Gossip, but I still hated being the center of attention and found the whole experience excruciatingly awkward. I liked talking to people when we were on an even playing field. When they saw me first and foremost as a successful fantasy author, that made things difficult. While I worried that perhaps I was being selfish, I reminded myself that I preferred to give back to my fans in ways that did not make me uncomfortable, like signing 841 pre-order books, writing free bonus scenes, and responding to emails I received from readers. I was also worried that I was stealing the limelight from Chris, but each time I looked over at them, they were busy signing books for the long line of people who were waiting. At least it looked like I didn’t need to worry about that.

As soon as I could, I excused myself to go to the restroom and sat on the toilet seat, scrolling through my Instagram feed—which consisted of photos of a few friends, a lot of cute dogs, and my favorite female comedians—until I felt more relaxed.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself to go back into the bookstore.

“There you are! Are you ready for that drink?” Chris asked as soon as I exited the restroom. “Please say yes.” Desperation tinged their voice.

I chuckled. “Sure am. Did you have somewhere in mind?”

Chris nodded, and we walked down Court Street to Congress, a small bar known for its cocktails. We ordered drinks from the friendly bartender and then grabbed a seat at a table in the corner.

Chris took a long swig of their old fashioned and leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “These events really take it out of me. I can’t wait for them all to be over so I can squirrel back into my cave and get back to what I actually enjoy—writing.”

I looked at Chris, surprised. “To be honest, I don’t know how you do events. I’d find them incredibly stressful. But you’re so good at public speaking. Your answers are always very clear, you weave in funny anecdotes, and you come across as so genuine and warm. Both times I’ve seen you, you’ve had the audience enthralled.” I sipped my gimlet, the refreshing lime and gin combination going down very easily.

Chris grimaced. “That’s very kind of you to say, but I find them nerve-wracking. I spent weeks doing practice interviews, rehearsing those anecdotes, and I still feel like I’m about to vomit before they start. I wish I could be as brave as you and just refuse to do them altogether.”

I looked at them, startled. “Um, I don’t think avoiding public speaking is exactly brave. If anything, it’s the opposite.”

“I don’t see it that way. In this industry, there’s so much pressure on authors to sell their books—to constantly be on social media, have a website, do interviews and events. Publishers expect it, and most authors I know feel like they have to do it, even though they’d often prefer to be writing their next book. The fact that you were able to draw some firm boundaries and push back on those expectations seems pretty brave to me.”

Huh. I’d never thought about it in that way before. It had always felt like a personal failing that I wasn’t willing to put myself out there publicly. But when I looked back to those initial discussions I’d had, first with Emma and then with Tania and other representatives from my publisher when they offered me a book deal, there had been a lot of pressure from all concerned for me to do all the things Chris had just described. But I’d held steadfast to my position that it was my job to write the books and my publisher’s job to sell them.

I frowned. “You know, I’m not sure I could have convinced them on my own. I think having Tania on my side made a huge difference. She had, and still has, a lot of influence at the publishing house and really fought for me.” Tania and I hadn’t been together when I signed the contract—we’d started dating shortly after—but she’d seen how important privacy was to me. Tania was by no means perfect, but she’d had some good qualities as well.

“Maybe I should see if I can switch editors,” Chris said, a joking glint in their eye.

“Well, she might have an opening since she’s lost one of her authors recently,” I said, smiling. “And she is an excellent editor.”

On the subwayride home I checked my phone. Two text messages. One from George, letting me know she was free tonight if I still wanted to talk. I smiled. I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel and call her. And one from Tania. My heart rate picked up as I clicked on it.

Hi, I heard you’re in New York. We need to talk about dividing our assets, and I’d prefer if we could come to an amicable agreement rather than getting our lawyers involved. Are you free tomorrow to meet up and discuss? T

I shut my eyes. Despite feeling like I’d well and truly moved on from Tania, I did not want to talk to her about dividing up our assets. There were some things, like the painting of our dog, Henry, who had passed away a few years ago, that I knew we’d both want, and the idea of having to hash those issues out made my stomach turn. Maybe once the media attention had calmed down and I was back in Sapphire Springs, I’d feel more prepared for that conversation.

As soon as I got back to the hotel room, I pulled off my shoes, changed into my pajamas, and FaceTimed George. Seeing her smiling face, as she sat propped up against the head of her bed, and hearing her voice sent a warm rush through me. I could hear Max snoring somewhere nearby. I wished I could teleport myself next to her and nuzzle into her chest.

“Hi, gorgeous. How are you doing?” George asked.

Leaning back on the pillows on my hotel bed, I filled her in on the publicity meeting. Tears welled in my eyes as I told George that I was the source of the leak.

“I know it really sucks, but try not to be too hard on yourself about signing the wrong name,” George said gently.

“It’s hard not to since I brought it all on myself,’ I said, blinking.

“I wouldn’t say that. You were going through a huge upheaval which was caused by something outside your control—Tania cheating on you. You were dealing with a divorce, moving, writer’s block, financial stress and worry about Barb. You need to cut yourself some slack.”

I swallowed and nodded.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t like difficult conversations, it sounds like you did a pretty amazing job today. Standing up to your publicity team like that couldn’t have been easy,” George said.

I managed a weak smile. “Chris said something similar to me today—that I was ‘brave’ for refusing to do any publicity when there was so much pressure on authors to do it. I’d always felt it was a character flaw on my part. I was too shy, too introverted, too socially awkward.”

“I don’t see that as a character flaw at all. It’s just who you are. Surely a lot of authors would be the same. What are the chances, really, that people who love spending most of their time in imaginary worlds are also going to be extroverts who love the limelight?”

“True. Although, I was lucky to have Tania on my side, advocating for me.”

“Even still, it doesn’t detract from the fact that it was a difficult conversation, but you stood firm. And you spoke to Michael about the book, even when you thought he was going to rip it to shreds.”

I laughed softly. “I’m so glad I did that, or I would have spent days worrying about what he was going to say, when I didn’t need to at all.”

George paused again. “Hey, Hannah. Why do you think you found those conversations easier to have than some of the other conversations you’ve struggled with?” Her voice was low and thoughtful.

There was silence while I turned George’s question over in my mind, thinking of all the conversations I’d agonized over and delayed. Telling George and my parents I was H. M. Stuart, confronting Tania about her infidelity, and now, talking to her about finalizing the financial side of our divorce.

“Looking back, I wonder if it all stemmed from my parents. They were so distant and unapproachable that I found it really hard to talk to them. And when I did get up enough courage, they were so often dismissive. Whether it was about my desire to be a writer or my desire not to do drama and debate.”

George furrowed her brow. “That would have been really tough. Kids need to be able to feel comfortable speaking to their parents.”

“Yeah.” I gave George a small smile. “I think the conversations I struggle with the most are the more personal ones, because there’s more potential for me to get hurt or hurt others.” I shifted in the bed, trying to find the best words to express my feelings.

“Like with you and my parents, I was worried revealing I’m H. M. Stuart might make you think I was weird or see me differently, and result in my parents saying hurtful things about my career. And I’ve been putting off speaking to Tania about the division of our assets, and again, it’s very personal, especially when it comes to things like furniture or artwork that we both love. Whereas with the publisher, it’s business.” I pressed my lips together, still trying to work through my thoughts. “Although, having said that I was very nervous about talking to Michael yesterday. Getting negative feedback on my work is pretty personal, and I was also worried about what it would mean financially if I had to do a total rewrite.”

“Well, that makes it even more awesome that you did it, then.”

I smiled. “I think the events of the last few months made me realize that there’s rarely any benefit in delaying the inevitable. All it does is give me more time to stress about the whole thing—like I did when I first met you and spent days agonizing over when and how to tell you I was H. M. Stuart. And, as I discovered today, that resulted in me accidentally disclosing my real name—a perfect example of just how counterproductive putting off conversations can be. With Michael, I knew that if I could muster up the courage to speak to him, instead of spending days anticipating his concerns, sending myself into even more of an anxiety spiral with what-ifs, I’d find out exactly what his problem was. And once I was armed with that information, I could at least take steps to deal with it—whether it was revising my book or something more drastic. So maybe I am getting better at having difficult conversations.”

“That’s great. And it makes sense about it being more challenging when it’s personal,” George said gently. “When Alexis and I were breaking up, I saw a therapist for a while, and they really helped me with how to address some conversations I had to have with Alexis. I’ve got a worksheet she sent me somewhere with some tips on how to approach conversations that I’ll try to dig up.”

“That would be awesome.” The fact that George had struggled with similar problems was oddly comforting. She seemed so good at addressing issues head on now that it was positive to hear that it really was something I could work on and improve. It gave me hope.

“My therapist also emphasized that all I could control was how I handled my side of the conversation. I couldn’t control how the other person reacted to what I said. I just had to let go of my worries about how Alexis would react and instead focus on breaking up with her in the kindest way possible. It was kind of liberating to hear that.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “That is a good way of looking at it.”

The more I thought about it, the more it dawned on me that I probably didn’t have a lot to lose by having the conversations with my parents and Tania. With my parents, my feelings were already hurt after years of them not supporting my writing career or making an effort to be close to me. Could they really do much to hurt me further? And with Tania, she currently had all the assets that were up for discussion in her possession. Unless she refused to give me anything, which was highly unlikely, speaking to her could only improve my position. Resolve washed over me. Instead of continuing to avoid facing Tania and my parents, I should just get it over with.

“Tania messaged me to see if I could meet with her tomorrow to talk about dividing our assets. Would you mind if I stayed an extra night to try to get it sorted? And while I’m at it, I should probably call my parents too.” My pulse quickened at the thought, but there was also relief that I’d finally decided to take action.

George smiled softly. “Of course that’s fine. And if you want me to help you practice some role-playing, just let me know.” George’s face broke into a cheeky grin.

I smiled. “Role-playing, eh? I can think of much better role-playing options than you pretending to be my ex or my parents…”

“Oh, really? Care to share?” George asked, her tone playful.

“Let’s wait until I’m back.” My voice turned serious. “But George, thanks so much for talking to me about all this stuff. I really appreciate it,” I said, my voice wavering. God, George is great. I felt almost overwhelmed by how strongly my feelings were for her. I cleared my throat. “Anyway, that’s enough of my news. How’s your mom’s visit going?”