Chapter one

In the large lecture hall, a collection of anxious fans sat. Each one held a thick book in their hands. Paparazzi stood the length of the walls, snapping photos here and there at the crowd of excited faces. The glass podium gleamed in the stage lights as it awaited its visitor.

Behind the stage stood two stocky men in black suits, sunglasses, and earpieces. The fair-haired one put a hand to his right ear, nodding. “She's on the move.” In the long hallways, double doors at the opposite end opened, and two women walked down.

The woman on the right, with auburn hair cut in a sharp bob, strutted forward, her authority apparent and embellished by her dark green pantsuit. The woman on the left was more gentile in her footing, almost as if she were floating. Her blue-black hair tied in a slick ponytail contrasted with her flowing royal purple sheath dress. They joined the men.

“Why do you two have sunglasses on?” The auburn haired lady asked.

The men looked at each other and then back to her. The dark-haired man spoke lamely, “We’re on guard, Miss Rosalind.”

“How will you do that if you can’t see anything coming?” The men looked at each other once again. “Take them off you—” She was cut off by the other woman’s hand on her shoulder.

“Calm down, Roz. It’s not that big of a deal.”

The men sheepishly took off the glasses, tucking them away.

“It is a big deal, Lulah. Your book has taken off, so the spotlight is on you. So there are always some crazies lurking in the shadows.”

“Are you trying to scare me? I’m already nervous as is it. I hate public speaking.”

“There’s no need to be nervous, Miss Tallulah. Roger and I will keep you safe,” said the brunette.

“That’s right. Russell had us practice last night.” The blonde grinned.

“Practice?” Roz asked.

“How to jump in front of a bullet.”

Lulah gasped, looking frightened. Roz looked damn near ready to shoot the bodyguards herself.

An employee poked his head around the corner. “Two minutes.”

Roz turned to Lulah, “They’re just joking. Laughter eases nerves.” She laughed awkwardly and directed the jittery woman towards the stage area. Quickly, turning back, she jabbed a finger in each man’s chest. “Listen here, Bing and Bong, you better get it together. Now.” She stomped off.

The men looked at one another for a third time. “Who is Bing and Bong?” the brunette queried. The blonde shrugged.

The audience was warm and receptive, and they watched in titillating awe as Lulah read an excerpt from her hit novel All My Secrets. It captured readers of all ages. It explored a teen girl's first love — puppy love stage. It was riveting and relatable to all who experienced their first love highs and heartbreaks. The critics held it in high esteem, and parents approved, which was an incomparable feat for a new novelist.

Immediately after the book signing began, the line snaked out the hall’s doors. Her grateful readers came in all shapes and sizes as well as personalities. She was asked dozens of questions, but the one she heard the most was, Is this based on a true story? She would reply, In a way, yes. But isn’t it everyone’s story? A perfect response. She’d signed ‘Love, Tallulah’ elegantly, getting heartfelt thank yous.

Truthfully, the story was not a first-hand experience. She researched and interviewed anyone and everyone willing to share their first love stories. She was a creative writer, so she created a character and their world. Following the formula, she threw in obstacles and emotions, and it was complete. Though she made it sound simple, it wasn’t, but it wasn't overly challenging either.

Her agent and best friend Roz had only read the first chapter but was confident she could sell it. She sat with the manuscript in hand, eyes flying over the page, absorbed. When Roz had asked her the same question, Lulah could be completely honest.

“Hell no,” she laughed.

“Well damn. You sure have the talent to make others think so, or at least hope so.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Lulah replied smugly.

“Yes, it is. But switching hats,” Roz motioned above her head as if taking off one hat and putting on another, “Didn’t you have a first love?”

“Yes, puppy love, but I never thought much of it, especially once I got to college.”

“Why?”

Lulah stared off into the distance. “I fell in love with someone else.” Roz looked up from the manuscript, picking up on the somber tone of her friend’s voice. Lulah shook her head. “Isn’t that how it goes?”

***

Four weeks later, Roz was knocking frantically on her door. She burst in with a massive grin on her face. “You’re sold out.”

“Why didn’t you use the doorbell?”

“Did you hear what I said? All over the city, not one book is left in stores.”

“Really? Every single book? My book?”

“What’s with all the disbelief? Let’s have a little excitement. Maybe some champagne.”

“Are you positive?”

Roz put her hand on her hips, “I sent Bing and Bong out again early this morning. They’ve been reporting to me all day.”

“Their names are Russell and Roger.”

“You say tomato, I say potato.”

“Why do you call them Bing and Bong?”

Roz shrugged, “I happened to see this kids' show… the characters look like them…in a way.” She shrugged again.

She threw an admonishing look at Roz, “That’s not nice.”

“Whoever said I was nice? Now, come on, enough of that. We should be celebrating!”

Lulah finally smiled. “I can’t believe it. This is amazing.” She pulled Roz in for a hug. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” They released each other. “I’m betting this is just the beginning.”

Roz would be right. A week later, All My Secrets made the New York Times Bestsellers List, which would stay for six months. In celebration, Roz threw a catered affair, inviting friends, colleagues, and those who could be potential connections. Lulah wasn’t one for fancy parties or crowds, which made her a bonafide creative writer. But she was grateful to have longtime friends in attendance. They and Roz got along immediately as if they had all gone to the same college five years ago.

One of those was Lizzie Myers, the president of their graduating class. The short, voluptuous blonde pulled Lulah off to the balcony of the lavish penthouse Roz had snagged for the party.

“How are you? I mean, really? Tell me everything.”

“I’m good, Lizzie. Still a little shocked but very good.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You deserve it. I always knew you’d make a name for yourself.”

“I believe it. You were always encouraging me to enter competitions back in the day. And I am grateful to you for that.”

Lizzie fluttered her eyelashes comically, “You flatter me. But…how grateful are we talking?”

Lulah laughed. “I knew it!”

“What?”

“I knew you wanted something. A favor? What is it?”

Lizzie sighed, “Just a tiny favor.”

“Go on.”

“Would you be willing to be a keynote speaker at Homecoming this year?”

“Homecoming? We’re not in school anymore.”

“It’s our year as alumni to be honored.”

“This is a bit early, isn’t it?”

“Time flies. It’s been five years already.”

Lulah nodded, looking out at the city lights. A moment passes. “Who’s all going? I mean, have people already RSVP’d?”

Lizzie shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing. “Invitations haven’t been sent out because I hoped to get you on board first. Please, Lulah.”

“I don’t know, Lizzie. I hate public speaking. Can’t I just write a good luck message?”

“These kids need true role models. You are a living, breathing hero for young people. They need you. I need you. The university needs you!” Lizzie had made herself taller somehow with the amount of determination behind her words.

Lulah knew it was her calling. I want to not only be a writer but also a strong female role model for young girls. She couldn’t refuse, though she knew she had been blackmailed just a bit.

“When is it?”

“Not for another three months.”

“Fine.”

Lizzie hugged her hard, “Oh, thank you! You won’t regret it. Let’s have a toast.” The former class president ran back inside and grabbed two flutes of champagne before returning. “To Tallulah Morrison!”

“C’mon now. We can do better.”

“To friendship?”

Lulah smiled, “To friendship.” Clink!

A few weeks later, Lulah’s laptop chimed while writing, alerting her to a new email. Homecoming class of 20XX.

“Oh, Lizzie…” the groan came once the message was opened.

She had been tricked, or so it felt like it. The professionally done invite stated Keynote Speakers. She wouldn't be the only one. At the top was her earshot right next to the one person she hoped wouldn’t be in attendance, Keaton Hayworth. It was apparent she and him were the main event, seeing how they were alumni of the small college and both had made it big.

She immediately picked up the phone, put it on speaker, and paced. Any thought of writing had flown out of her head.

“‘You won’t regret this.’ she says,” Lulah mimicked her friend’s words. She was past regretting coming to her class president’s aid.

Lizzie’s high-pitched voice came through. “Hey!”

“Hey—”

“It’s Lizzie. I can’t come to the phone right now. But if you oh, so kindly leave your deets, I’ll get back to you. Smooches!” Beep!

“Lizzie! You need to call me. ASAP. We need to rethink this homecoming idea. I--I have a deadline…I know this means a lot to you…And I want to—” Beep!

Lulah sighed, hanging up. She plopped back into her desk chair. Keaton’s earshot was chic and enticing at the same time. “Why did it have to be you?”

The next day, Lulah met Roz for lunch. They liked to keep business matters casual with a sprinkle of enjoyment. The waiter brought them menus and water before taking their orders.

Her agent tells her that the next book is good but could be better.

“It’s lacking.”

“Lacking what?”

“Passion. Honestly, believability. Pull from your experiences.”

“Experiences. Okay. Sure.”

“You can do that. I know you can do it. You’re a phenomenal writer, or you wouldn’t be a NYT bestseller. But to stay on top, you have to keep the momentum. One of the best ways to do that is to showcase your range. You were sweet, but can you be spicy?”

“I’m not spicy enough?”

“You could be. I don’t know. But to be frank, the sex scenes you’ve written are…tame.”

“What’s wrong with tame?”

“Tame is what people get in their everyday lives. They get lost in books with wildness to them. Just like someone who has never traveled out of their hometown may read tales of adventure and travel. You get my meaning.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

At home, Lulah was greeted by silence. She liked it that way. The windows were replaced with soundproof glass. She didn’t need distractions when writing. But just now, she realized she was alone. Yes, she had friends, but they had full lives and full houses.

This reflection brought her back to her dilemma: Experience.

“Pull from my experiences,” she sighed. “I haven’t got any.” She was a creative writer, so her other stories worked out. But Roz was right. Believability was lacking, and readers and critics alike were going to notice. She’d have to make time for some research, but with who? Hire someone? No. It was too risky, and it turned her stomach.

She got a notification on her phone: a text from Lizzie to call her. She did, and Lizzie picked up on the first ring.

“You can’t back out now. The invites have been sent. The Dean has prepared the university for this. Please don’t do this to me. I’d be the laughingstock,” she rambled.

“Lizzie, calm down. I’m still going.”

“Oh, thank you, God!” she squealed, causing Lulah to pull the phone away from her ear.

“I’m actually planning on staying out there a bit longer. I’m in the process of my next novel and need to get away.”

“That’s even better. You never know, but you may find some inspiration out here. Check out some Airbnb experiences.”

“ I would like to book a place for my stay anyway.”

“There’s a cute Bed and Breakfast in the town now. I hear great things.”

“You know that's a good idea. I wouldn’t have to go too far and can stay in my creative zone.”

Lizzie giggled, “I love the way your mind works. You know the Dean never believed I would be able to snag you and Keaton. And that’s another reason for you to come. Keaton will be there with you. You two were thick as thieves. It’ll be just like old times.”

“Well, you did. Look, Lizzie, I better get back to it.”

After saying their goodbyes, Lulah stretched and set her fingers on her keyboard. She sat there for several minutes, looking at the blank screen.

“Old times?” Lulah muttered. “If only she knew.”