How’s Felix’s book coming along?
By five o’clock on Friday, The Self Pub was buzzing with activity. Authors were there with their spouses, partners, and friends. The weather was beautiful, and guests spilled out into the street, causing random people hoping for a free drink to wander in. Beatrice had a slide show looping on the desktops. It included images of book covers, authors with short bios, bullet points itemizing membership advantages, and selfies of happy readers curled on couches or tucked into their beds.
Andy was at home, stalling. Concerned about the attention he would get at the party, he sat in a chair carefully tying his shoes. He undid the laces and evened them out before knotting them again. He stood up, rolled back his sleeves, then unrolled them, buttoning the cuffs. B
