Two hours later, and two thousand dollars poorer, Keira arrived back home. Unleashing Bryn in a furniture store had perhaps not been the most sensible idea, but she'd been too tired to fight it and in the end, there was some relief that came with giving up control. The real downside of the shopping trip was that Keira would have to wait for most of the larger items to be delivered, which meant she still had no couch, no bed, and no writing desk. All they'd been able to take home with them were some lamps, bedding sets, and a DIY tool kit complete with hammer and screwdrivers that Bryn insisted she own now that she was independent.
As Keira emptied the contents of her bags onto the counter, she realized that her DIY set could be put to immediate use. She still had the painting Milo had gifted her for Christmas in her case. She hurried to it now and pulled out on the clothes resting on top. As she did, she noticed the little black box, recalling the beautiful necklace Milo had bought her for the specific purpose of not forgetting about him. She hadn't worn it since returning to New York City, and mused on the reason why. She couldn't put her finger on it. For some reason, it just didn't feel right to her, to have this memento of a prior relationship hanging around her neck.
She shook the thoughts and continued searching for the painting. She had the perfect place to hang it; just above where her new writing desk would go once it was delivered.
Once she'd found it, she hurried back into the living area and fetched her new tool kit. It was the first time she'd actually done any DIY, and though nerve-wracking, it felt really good to wield a hammer. Bashing a nail into the wall was also very cathartic. She could certainly get used to this independence thing!
With the nail in place, Keira hung the painting and stepped back to admire it. It was such an inspiring image, reminding her of the wonderful Christmas she'd had in Sweden. At once, she wished she could be back there, back where things were calm and relaxed. Back to a time before all the craziness had begun.
Just to the right of the painting was the large window with its view over New York City. It couldn't have been a greater contrast; the serenity of Sweden with the business of New York. And the incongruity of how lonely the picture looked when her time in Sweden had been anything but, yet how full New York City appeared from her window when she was completely alone within it.
She felt a strong urge to call Milo then, but remembered that she had homework; prepping for tomorrow morning's television appearance. It was going to be a very early start-she was needed in makeup at six a.m.-so there'd be no time to practice Rick's advice in the morning. Though her segment was prerecorded, it still had to be done in time for the early slot on the show.
She headed into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror on the cabinet. Rick had advised her to practice her "natural" smile, which was as paradoxical as it was impossible. Every time she attempted to smile it looked forced, bordering on manic. He would not be pleased with her at all.
Then she said some of her pre-prepared lines. Even though she'd written them herself, they sounded fake in her voice. Too rehearsed. Too unnatural.
She sighed. This was the problem that no one had envisioned. Keira was only good with words when she wrote them down, not when she produced them from her mouth! She was going to make a fool of herself tomorrow, she could just tell.
She heard her phone ping in the other room. Relieved to get a break from the strained practice, she headed out into the living room and retrieved her phone from her purse. She was expecting Bryn or Mallory. But the name on her screen took her by complete surprise. Cristiano.
Heart hammering, Keira opened the message.
I read your article. It's great. Don't forget me when you're famous. I'm always thinking of you.
Keira blinked, stunned. She had no idea what to reply, if, indeed, she should reply anything. Things with Cristiano had soured. She hadn't expected to hear from him ever again. And for him to write to her in relation to an article she'd written about her rebound from him made it even stranger. Cristiano's jealous streak had been a real issue in their short-lived relationship. Maybe he was trying to prove that he was above it.
Whatever his reasoning, Keira wasn't yet ready to handle it, or process it. There was too much going on for her to even devote an ounce of energy to Cristiano. She put her phone away and went back into the bathroom to resume her strained smiling practice.
*
Keira arrived at the office the next morning before the sun had even risen. She felt awful. Sleeping on just a mattress was doing her no good at all, and waking up at five a.m. had felt like hell. Her coffee stall guy hadn't even opened yet, so she'd not even had a chance for a caffeine fix.
She headed inside, smiling wanly at the receptionist, who'd clearly been forced to work extra hours to accommodate her television appearance as well. There was hardly anyone else inside the office. Stella, the makeup artist, was there, drinking coffee, and Rick, Keira's new publicist.
"Great, you're right on time," Rick said, smiling as she entered.
He had clearly practiced his enthusiastic smile, Keira thought, because no one could be that chipper at this time in the morning.
He handed her a freshly brewed cup of coffee.
"Thanks," she said. "I need this."
"I can tell," Rick said. "You have dark circles under your eyes. Did you sleep at all?"
Stella was up in a flash, makeup brush in hand. "I can fix that, don't you worry, Keira."
Keira was ushered into the makeup chair and Stella instantly got to work.
"Let me talk you through the day," Rick began. "We have a limo coming in an hour to take us to the studio."
"A limo?" Keira asked, almost spitting out her coffee.
"I want you to feel like a queen," Rick said. "If you feel like a queen, you'll act like a queen. And do you know what queens have? Millions of dollars. That's the aim of the game here, Keira."
Keira couldn't help but laugh. It was so absurd that this was happening to her of all people! Anyone else on the writing staff she could imagine getting a kick out of this, but she had always been far more interested in the simpler things in life. Still, a limo did sound exciting!
"You'll meet the presenters once we get there. The show will already have started so it will probably be just a quick greeting while you're getting mic'd up. Then you'll be in the chair and off you go."
Keira heard the main door swing open then and the sound of hurried heels approaching. She tried to tip her eyes across to see who it was, but Stella held her face sternly in place.
"Molly?" she heard Rick say.
"Yes, that's me," a soft female voice replied.
A woman with jet black hair came into Keira's eye line. She smiled. "Hi. I'm your stylist."
"I have a stylist too?" Keira asked, completely taken aback.
Was an hour really too little time for Stella to fix both her hair and makeup, that they needed a whole new person to be part of it?
"Queen, remember," Rick told her.
Keira nodded and sipped her coffee. "Queen. Got it."
As everyone fussed around her, Rick took a seat opposite.
"I have a list of the questions here," he told Keira. "We ought to go through them each a few times, make sure your answers are down to a T."
"Sure," Keira said. "I guess that's a good idea. I mean it's not like I'm live, so if I mess up I can start again, but I can see why prepared is better."
"Not live?" Rick said, frowning. "What gave you that impression?"
"You did," Keira said, her expression transforming to match his. "You said this was a taped segment that they would run later on in the show."
"When did I say that? Yesterday?" He shook his head. "That was a whole day ago! Keira, keep up the pace! Yesterday was yesterday. When it comes to television things change like that." He snapped his fingers to indicate the speed with which things changed in television, which was to say in an instant. "They want you live now. There's been a whole day of subscription sales and social media shares of the article. You're hotter today than you were yesterday."
"Couldn't someone have told me?" Keira exclaimed, balking at the idea. She'd only just about managed to convince herself to be on TV when she'd thought it was prerecorded. To go on live seemed crazy to her!
"I'm telling you now," Rick said. "Don't freak out on me, okay. You'll do just fine. Let's just practice until it's perfect."
"I only have an hour!" Keira exclaimed. She was starting to panic now, and could feel the heat in her cheeks.
"Stella," Rick said, turning to the makeup artist. "Make sure that redness doesn't show on camera, okay? The last thing we want is our fearless romance guru blushing."
His words made Keira blush even further. She clearly was not cut out for this. They should have just given her job to Meredith when they had the chance!
"Breathe for me, Keira," Rick said. "It's all going to be okay. I just need you to stay calm, stay collected. No one knows this stuff better than you, okay? You're the expert. Just remember that."
"And the queen," Stella reminded her.
Keira took deep breaths. "I'm the expert," she repeated.
Rick nodded encouragement. "And…"
"…and the queen," Keira added, feeling a little stupid to be saying it aloud.
Still, it had the desired effect. Her terror started to subside.
"Good," Rick said. He looked down at his sheet of paper. "Let's go through these, shall we?"
Keira nodded.
Rick cleared his throat and read the first question off the list. "So, you go by the name Romance Guru. What makes you believe you're qualified to give advice to women all over the world?"
Keira's eyes pinged open. She swallowed hard. "What? Are they asking me that? Oh no. Oh…I don't know!"
Her panic returned immediately.
Stella looked sternly at Rick. "Start her off with an easy one, why don't you?"
"That is an easy one," Rick challenged. "Keira, come on. Think. Because you represent all women. You're one of us. Normal. A real person. You write about your real life and people relate to it. They see themselves in you. You're qualified because you live it!"
Keira nodded, trying to take all his words in. But her mind was reeling. Insecurity was taking over.
Just then, Keira heard the doors open again, and this time came more heavy-footed, muted footsteps. Keira recognized them instantly as Elliot's.
"How's she getting along?" he said, talking directly over her head to Rick.
"Just a few teething problems with the questions," Rick said.
Keira turned her eyes up to Elliot. "Turns out I'm a writer, not a talker. Who would've guessed?"
Elliot finally turned his attention to Keira. "You're going to do amazingly," he said. "Have you seen how many shares your article got yesterday? Do you want me to show you the graph?"
"The graph won't help my nerves!" Keira said.
"Are you sure?" Elliot asked quizzically. Already, he was tapping on his cell phone, clearly bringing up some figures to show her. "Because if this can't give you a confidence boost, I don't know what can."
He turned the screen to her. Keira squinted reluctantly at the image before her. It was some kind of official chart of shared Internet content, called the "Trending Table." And right there at the top was Keira's article on Scandinavian love.
Keira gasped and grabbed Elliot's cell phone.
"It's the most shared article on the Internet?" she muttered, not quite believing what her eyes were showing her. She looked up, stunned, and into the eyes of the four eager faces before her. "I really am a queen."
