Page 14 of Romantic Hero
‘Your whole deal. You surely know what you look like.’
With an eye-roll and what appears to be a slight smirk, River stands and pulls on the T-shirt. It’s about three sizes too small, riding up to show his hard lower stomach and straining so much over his biceps that the material looks in danger of splitting, Hulk-style.
He holds his arms out wide and frowns. ‘Are you serious right now? You got anything bigger?’
‘No. My ex was a size medium. Look, at least it covers your, uh, your nipples, okay? I need to concentrate.’
River considers this for a moment and then plonks back down onto the kitchen chair with a force that makes me worry for its integrity.
Getting a sudden brainwave, I hurry over to my bookcase. The top shelf is filled with various editions of the Bedlam Creek series, books one through four, a space waiting ominously for book five.
I grab them all and carry them over to the table, placing them down one by one in front of River.
‘I’m an author,’ I explain. ‘I wrote these books.’
He picks up a paperback, eyes widening. ‘Why the sweet hell is Cassidy on the front of this book?’ He picks up thenext one. ‘And that ten-cent weasel Ethan Calhoun? Why do you have books about Bedlam Creek? About my hometown? What the hell is this? A trick? Is this a prank show? Am I on camera right now?’ He peers up into the ceiling corners, presumably searching for a hidden recording device.
I shake my head no. ‘I wrote these books because, well, the thing is … I … invented Bedlam Creek.’
‘Excuse me?’ River glares at me as if I just suggested he poke out his own eyes and serve them on toast.
‘I … well, there’s no easy way to say this, but I actually … invented …you. See? There’s my name.’ I point to the book. ‘Right there. Gertie Bickerstaff.’
River lifts the bottle of Bagpipe Distillery, bypasses the pouring into a glass bit, and swigs straight from the bottle, three hefty glugs. He slams it down and nods towards the books. ‘You saying I’m in those books, crazy lady?’
I pick up the second book, where River Oakley makes his first on-page appearance in a fight at a saloon bar called The Tiddly Tap.
‘I’m sayingRiver Oakley– a characterI created– is in there.’ I flip to page 40 where he first shows up and point at the name right there in crisp Garamond type, clear as day.
River leans over and examines the page with narrowed eyes. ‘Holy fuck.’ He jumps up from the chair, the movement making it skid across the floor and hit the radiator where its integrity does indeed fall apart.
Okay. That is the reaction of a man who reallytrulybelieves he is a real person called River Oakley.
He picks up the book again and scans the page. ‘Heart ofstone?’ he scoffs. ‘Silken curls? Is this a romance novel? About me?How?We’ve never even met. Are you stalking me?’ He clenches his fist so that the paper creases up into a smush.
‘No, no, it’s not aboutyou,’ I explain, gently taking the book from his hand. ‘You’re actually more of a side character.’
He blinks. ‘I’m not even a main part?’
‘You’re not a main part. Your sister, Cassidy Oakley—’
‘Half-sister.’
‘Half-sister… is the main part. But you are, like, an important part, narratively speaking.’
For a moment I sort of leave my body and look down on myself trying to make a character I dreamt up feel better about his page time and level of importance to the arc of my book series. ‘The thing is,’ I say, ‘you’re, um, so you … you’re the villain of the story. Very important.’
River looks briefly hurt at the statement before scowling right at me. ‘I’m no villain.’ He swipes the stack of books off the table in a manner that is, well, totally villainous. ‘And I’m not some character you invented. I’m a person. An actual person.’
In a way he’s right. I didn’t exactly do a great deal of research for his character. He was the big bad rancher brother causing havoc in the distance, refusing to let Cassidy be a part of Oakley Ranch after Big Chip Oakley died. The cold-hearted cowboy who, apart from a few key details on his looks and personality, plus a brief history of key events that moulded his ruthless character, was supposed to be nothingmore than a plot obstacle; there for colour and context, a common enemy for the people of Bedlam Creek, for Cassidy and Ethan to rail against while finding love with one another in the main storyline. If Bedlam Creek was the movieArmageddon, River Oakley would be the asteroid.
‘Listen …’ I try to keep my voice even as I pull up an image on my phone and show it to River. ‘This is a movie calledEnchanted. It’s about—’
River’s eyes widen. ‘You better not be trying to infer that I’m the Giselle of this scenario?’ He glares at me, fully furious now, jaw clenching and unclenching at double speed. His voice gets low as he slowly annunciates every word of his next sentence. ‘I’m not Giselle, all right? River Oakley isnotGiselle.’
‘You knowEnchanted?’ I gasp. ‘But how could you know it if I’ve never written about it in my books?’
‘Because I. Am. Real. You aredemented.’
