My sister is obviously exaggerating. She’s a bit of a drama queen. I know Rune liked me a lot. We were definitely summertime besties. But no, he wasn’t in love with me. He wasn’t. I would have known.

But I am wearing the fact that he wanted me to be his first kiss as much as I wanted him to be mine like a favorite old sweater, the kind that makes you feel better every time you put it on. Underneath that, I’m wearing his actual kisses like a silky negligee. I’ve never actually owned such an elegant piece of nightwear, but if I did, this is what I would imagine it would feel like.

The morning hours slip by as I sketch different ideas for Rune as Wizard Howl and wait for the roofers to call me back. I’ve finally caught the right wry expression on Rune’s face that I want. I also gave him a very 80s dangling earring complete with a jewel (like in the book). This will make Lorelei laugh.

The old me wouldn’t have shared my preferred pencil sketch at this stage with my Instagram followers. It’s good, but it’s still rough. But the old me wouldn’t have asked my followers to vote on whom to draw, either. Their robust response has shown me it’s okay to lift the veil more.

I set my drawing pad with Rune’s sketch in front of the window for good light and take a few pics. I add in the text:

Thank you to everyone for your amazing feedback and encouragement. At the end of the day, I decided to go with my own girlhood crush Asher Dillion. I hope you’ll forgive me for not drawing your personal favorite.

I’ve just posted everything when my phone rings from Vivienne. This is twice she’s called me out of the blue. Interesting.

“Do you have a few minutes?” she asks in a rush, her normal calm demeanor sounding excited and rushed.

“Of course, what’s up?” I ask, starting to put away my all of my various drawing supplies.

“I just got back from a breakfast meeting with Marilynn, the publicist Rune connected me with. My head’s spinning.”

“Did you go someplace fancy? Spot any celebrities?” I ask, hoping for a tiny glimpse of my old life back in Santa Monica. Celebrity sightings were a part of everyday life.

“No, she had me meet her at her favorite out-of-the-way deli so that we wouldn’t.”

“Wow, she’s that well known?”

“In certain circles, yes. Marilyn Schultz is a PR legend. I thought I recognized her name when Rune gave me her contact info. I have to keep pinching myself that she’s interested in working with me.”

“Viv, that’s terrific!”

“It’s all because of her daughter Naomi. Rune must have sent her an email. Naomi used to be on TV show with Rune when they were teens, and now she works with her mom but lives in Vancouver and works with his production company occasionally.”

“So, how did the meeting go?” I ask, annoyed to realize I’m a little jealous of Naomi. I bet it was that first local PBS show. Was she Rune’s first kiss? Realizing this isn’t a helpful thought I take myself into the kitchen to get a snack and make more tea.

“Amazing, which is the reason for this impromptu call. Marilyn wants me to push back the launch of the website a few weeks.”

“Oh? Is there a problem?” I ask, dread rising, worried something in my graphics have been found lacking as take a container of hummus and some carrots out of the fridge.

“Don’t jump to worry girl!” Vivienne admonishes me, albeit jokingly, “No. There’s no problem with the website at all. I’m just pivoting a bit in light of the feedback she gave me.”

“So, what does she want you to do?” I ask. Deciding I might as well make this my lunch, I get out pita bread as well, and a delicious creamy sheep's milk feta I bought recently.

“First, she wants me to have a free download before she books me any interviews, and then she wants me to do a reel of my best selfies.

“Like a pre-sizzle reel sizzle reel?” I ask, referring to short video montages created to showcase how good someone is at giving interviews, speaking in public, etc. I used to make sizzle reels all the time at both agencies.

“Exactly.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“But don’t you already have a free download?” I ask, pretty sure she does.

“Yes! But it doesn’t have the look and feel of the new website. Marilyn wants me to create a new one from my recent Sexpectations blog post with exercises. She wants me to announce it’s a preview of my upcoming book.”

“I didn’t realize you were writing a book!” I exclaim, thinking that the title does have a nice ring to it. I slide my lunch plate across the kitchen bar and sit on one of the bar stools in front of it. I start nibbling on my pita, hummus, and feta quietly.

“I didn’t either until two hours ago,” Vivienne laughs, “Shelby, I don’t think anyone has ever quite got what I want to do the way Marilyn has. I’m sending Rune a very good bottle of champagne. I’m going to tell him he has to drink it with you in my honor.”

“Sounds good to me! Is your hair blowing back from the excitement?”

“It’s whipping around like I’m in a convertible. That’s where you come in. How busy are you the next couple of weeks?”

“Not as busy as I need to be. I was going to start looking for new income projects.”

“If you’re game, you have one now. Marilyn and Naomi love your illustrations and want you to create a sexy, fun cover for the free download to make it look like an eBook. They want it to match the look and feel of the website, with the idea that the actual book cover will look very similar, and you’ll design that as well. And I could use your editing help with the sizzle reel too.”

“Yes, please! I’m so game,” I say happily, getting up to find the pad of paper and pen I keep in a kitchen drawer. How exciting to focus on a project that’s my dream, to illustrate book covers! She gives me the details of what she’s looking for, and we settle on a price.

“Good,” she says, “I feel so relieved to have that settled. Now I want to hear all about your big fundraiser.”

“It was surprisingly fun for the most part,” I say, “we had the best costumes there.”

“Send me pics!” she exclaims.

“I’m on it,” I say, picking up my phone again to text them to her, “just don’t share them.”

“Of course! Who do you think you’re dealing with!”

“I’m sorry I’m being paranoid,” I say as I text over the images.

“Look at you two!” Vivienne exclaims, “Shelby, why have you been hiding this secret glam side of yourself?”

“I’m lazy?” I laugh, “I wouldn’t mind spending more time on my hair and makeup occasionally if I had Rune around all the time to pick out my clothes.”

“Maybe you will…” Vivienne says slyly, “You two look really good together. I like your energy with Rune.”

“Thanks, but as Jack pointed out, Rune’s too famous for me.”

“Excuse me? As if you need his opinion on anything right now,” Vivienne sounds exasperated.

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” I admit, “Rune was great. We even cleared up what happened at Sundance…”

“Details!”

“He admitted was just too shy to dance with me in public.”

“But he can play a rock star? And perform in velvet and leather?” Vivienne says.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” I agree, because truly it is.

“So, what’s keeping the two of you from testing the waters now?” Viv asks, “Is he in a relationship?”

“I don’t think so, but he admitted to being a total mess right now." I don't add that I've heard he's a serial heart breaker and it appears to check out online.

“Ah,” Vivienne says, “well, good on him for being honest. I like that.”

“Yeah,” I say, remembering our kisses fondly, but knowing no matter how much my body feels differently, that it’s better this way.

“I feel like you’re leaving something out,” Vivienne nudges.

“He kissed me,” I blurt out, feeling giddy and relieved to share, “He admitted he wanted to do that all those years ago when we went to see Lord of the Rings.”

“Yes!” Vivienne cheers, “Was it worth the wait?”

“Oh wow, yes. It was amazing.”

“Shelby, listen, I have a sensuality assignment for you.”

Oh?” I ask, a little bubble of dread rising. Vivienne’s self-reflective sensuality assignments make me squirm.

“While you start working on illustration ideas for me, I also want you to finish doing the assignment from my Sexpectation blog post unless you finished it already,” she says in a knowing tone.

“I read it in your email newsletter,” I admit, “but no, I didn’t do it.”

“No worries, now that you have someone new and dreamy to imagineer around, it’ll be much easier to do.”

“I can’t fantasize about Rune!” I exclaim. Remembering the kiss is bad enough.

“This isn’t plain old fantasizing. It’s imagineering; it’s purposeful, so why not?” She asks as if this is a normal thing to say.

“I’m going to see him all the time for the next several weeks!” I protest,

“And? Men fantasize about real women they know all the time.” Vivienne says, “Heck, Rune baby probably woke up and started his morning by exercising his wrist thinking about you and your miles of legs in that very short mini dress the last couple of mornings.”

“I highly doubt that…” I say tartly, but then remember his seemingly innocent comment about my legs and being sprawled across him on the trail and how his nether region was responding. Is it possible?

“Shelby, I’m not saying you should do anything about what you imagine. You shouldn’t. He’s told you he’s a mess; believe him. Just be his friend. Learn to enjoy physically desiring someone without trying to make something happen.”

“That feels counterproductive,” I say a little grumpily.

“And yet you think he’s too famous for you,” Vivienne says, pointing out my contradiction and going into her lecture tone. “It sounds to me like this is the perfect setup for both of you to chill and get to know each other as the people you are now. Are you hearing me?”

“I am.” I sigh. She has a point, as usual.

“Use this summer as an experiment,” she encourages. “Hang out with Rune and get to know him again. See if he’s someone you have anything in common with and respect as he is now.”

“Okay, that sounds wise.”

“I know it feels weird because you feel you usually sly Girl Friday yourself into the attention of the guys you like.”

“I what?” I ask, feeling a little offended she’s seen right through me.

“You make yourself very useful,” she tells me kindly, “Jack isn’t the first talented photographer you set your sights on, is he? What about Ian?”