“Well, I’m glad you’re excited,” Keisha says with a giggle as she nods to me, and her smile puts me at ease. Being Nathan Booker’s assistant, I’m sure she’s used to seeing girls get excited about meeting him. I refuse to believe I’m the only one.

The four of us step behind the velvet rope, where a group of sixteen other women are already situated when we step in. We take our seats together and look out into the mass of people waiting for the signing to begin. As I watch the crowd, I realize there are literally no men in the audience. The entire store is full of women, with the only exceptions being men dressed in all-black, who look to be security of some sort, which is weird in itself. Nathan Booker is a bestselling author, but he’s still just an author. Why would he need security? I turn to my right and ask the group the question that’s on my mind.

“Do you guys see all the men dressed in the black pants and T-shirts? Is that security?”

“Looks like it to me,” Shay answers first.

“But why though?” I inquire, but before anyone answers, the intercom to the store comes on with the sound of a woman’s voice.

“Attention all ticket holders. Welcome to the book signing of New York Times bestselling author Nathan Booker. Before we begin today’s event, we’d like to remind you that there is no photography or video recording allowed at the signing. Mr. Booker does not take pictures, nor does he approve of video recordings of him of any kind, so we ask that you please keep your phones in your pocket or purse at all times during the event. If event staff sees you with your phone out, you will be asked to delete all images of Mr. Booker, and then escorted out of the signing. Thanks very much for your patience and understanding. Mr. Booker will be out very shortly. Thank you.”

After the announcement, a chorus of murmurs spreads throughout the crowd as people realize they won’t be getting their pictures taken with Nathan Booker today. Even the four of us turn toward each other and frown.

“That’s weird,” Shay gripes.

“Why wouldn’t he want people to take pictures of him?” Juliana asks.

“This is why there’s no pictures of him online and there’s only been speculation about what he looks like,” I say next, followed by the hot take from DeShaun.

“I told y’all it’s because he’s ugly,” he says, and we all glare at him. “Pretty people want to be seen, okay. Take me for example. I’m gorgeous, and I want everybody to catch a glimpse.”

“Well, you are gorgeous, queen,” I reply.

“You know it,” DeShaun says, framing his face with his hands.