Page 118 of The Perfect Rom-Com

My thoughts fly to my next book.

Wouldn’t it be fun to write about such a charming agent in shining armor?

I feel a zing and the itch to grab my notebook, start plotting out points now.

Huh. I didn’t know if I would ever be able to write again after all this.

“Well, this has been positively fascinating,” Melinda says, for the fiftieth time this morning. “Bryony—Page,” she adds, with a surreptitious look at Jack and a curvy little smile, “I think I can speak on behalf of everyone here today and say we are in awe of your dedication to the place behind this incredible story to come.” She glances at Jack, who mouths the date, then she says, “March of next year, folks. That’s what we’re aiming for. Meet Me Under the Bridge. And we have heard your struggles. Your triumphs. Your loyalty and sacrifice, and I have no doubt that the publication of this book will reap many benefits for this incredible organization that will keep it on its feet. But—”

Water forms in my eyes as I comprehend her words.

“—just to be sure,” she says, her grin widening, “on behalf of The Bright Show, we want to offer a permanent partnership and add this wonderful and meaningful organization to our charity list. Starting with this.”

And before I know it, two staff members in bright yellow T-shirts come onstage, carrying on their shoulders a massive check, with the number two followed by a lengthy line of zeros, and the words The Bridge in the recipient line.

I can’t even think.

I’m frozen.

Frozen in shock.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again.

My mouth has dropped open, and an unnerving chill runs through my body.

I’ve turned to plastic. Right here. On this green couch.

“Very good signature!” somebody calls out in the audience.

Socorro?

Melinda laughs. Points to the audience. “And this might be a nice time to give you one more surprise,” Melinda says. “Will the students and former students under BRYONY PAGE who have been able to join us today please take a moment to stand?”

And then I see it.

Dozens and dozens of people in bright pink moving to stand. Grins splayed across their faces. Newer faces and those from early days. Serghei. Fen. Miho. Saliha.

And at the front are Gran and Gloria. Gran looking out of place in her bright pink T-shirt instead of silk chiffon. Wiping her eyes with a loose handkerchief as they all clap.

And that’s when I can’t take it anymore.

And I begin to cry too. Big, fat elephant tears that streak down my cheeks and most definitely ruin my makeup.

As the room begins to heave with cheers and hugs and celebratory words, Melinda takes her mug and moves close to the camera and the front of the stage as she always does at the end of every show.

“Well, folks,” Melinda says, smiling at the camera. “It looks like we’ve had another bright and beautiful morning here on The Bright Show. Together, let’s go out there and make our day great.”

Chapter 26

“What did you do?” I say under my breath, looking up at Jack as the clapping ensues around us and lights shut off.

Somebody is swiftly removing my mic and Jack’s.

People are in a haze around us, movement flying by all around, but we are in the center of the tornado. Eyes locked on each other. The quiet in the storm.

“This has got to be the prank of the year for them. News of this is going to hit every outlet from NYC to Taiwan,” I say.

“I never liked conventional marketing and publicity.” Jack grins. “Think outside the box, I say.”