“How do you find your inspiration?” Vivian is leaning forward in her seat, her eyes glued to the man in front of her. In her former life, Vivian ran etiquette classes out of her home to make a little extra money. This is the first time I’ve ever seen her posture anything but perfect.

“It comes from different places.” Jasper takes his glasses off and leans an elbow onto the podium I pulled from the back room when I was setting up for tonight. I swear I hear a collective sigh from the crowd. “The easiest answer is from other creatives. I love to go to museums, concerts, and even movies. For me, creativity sparks creativity. But it can come from anywhere really. For instance, the premise for my next book came to me while I was at the grocery store.”

I lurk in the back, half spying, half hiding, listening as Jasper’s deep voice enraptures the crowd, which—despite me only posting on our social media channels a few times—is standing room only. I’m going to have to buy Mona a gift for setting this up, which sucks because now she’s never going to stop surprising me with events. But between story time this morning and copies of Last Hope and the rest of Jasper’s catalog that people are buying, this has been the best sales day we’ve had since I took over.

“Oh! Another book?” someone shouts from nearby, and when Jasper looks to the crowd to find whoever yelled, his eyes meet mine instead. His lips, which I know seem much fuller up close, quirk at the corners. I don’t know if it’s a trick of the light, but I swear he winks before he looks away.

It took a few months longer than I thought it would, but it seems as if I’m finally losing it.

Cool, cool. No big deal.

“Yes, and it takes place right here in Denver. It’s why I’m able to be with you lovely people tonight. I like to explore the places I write about and spend my time drafting in the city of my characters. I’ll be here for a few months, until I finish writing this story. Getting a deep understanding of my characters and their setting is a crucial part of my process.”

A crucial part of my process.

See, this is why I’m watching him speak instead of doing paperwork or any of the other hundreds of things on my to-do list. When he says stuff like that, I realize that while he may look better than anyone has a right to in a blazer and turtleneck in the middle of summer, we have nothing in common. We’d probably hate each other if we spent more than twenty consecutive minutes speaking to each other.

But what about time together not speaking?