Chapter Text
"Just one day!"
Randy Nedley had his perpetual frown on, and to anyone else he would have looked intimidating, but he was Nicole's manager for the longest time and the closest thing to a father she'll ever have. He had a soft spot for her.
Randy kept his brows furrowed. "I don't mind giving you a day off, Haught, god knows you need it." He turned his back on her and continued making omelettes for the both of them. Their go-to breakfast. "But the writer's very private and you popping up there might outshine her own event. We'd have to hire additional security, and time you going in for the signing-"
"So what you're saying is you already have everything planned?" Nicole asked, while approaching Randy, leaning towards him with a big smile on her face.
Randy grunted with an eye roll. Nicole could only laugh and make a tiny fist pump. "I KNEW you'd pull through for me." She swung off the counter, moving to set the table. "Just let me fangirl for a day-"
"An hour at most."
"-about one of the biggest authors this year-"
"Debatable."
"-and who I might have the tiniest crush on."
Randy's head spun so fast, Nicole was worried he'd injured himself. "We're not hiring additional security so you can flirt with a writer."
Nicole only winked at him, finishing up the table. Oh yes, she thought. Yes, they were.
Wynonna liked to believe she was known as one of the most badass people around. She drank too much, wore leather 24/7 and drove a motorcycle everywhere. But she was soft for one person, and one person only.
"I hate going to these things!"
Wynonna gave her sister's head a little rub before her hand returned to the TV remote, continuing her search for a decent show. "Then don't go."
"But my manager says it'd be good for sales."
"So, go."
"But I have a lot of anxiety about it, and I immediately regret all the things I've shared with people who go."
Wynonna paused as she chanced upon a channel with explosions, popped a kernel into her mouth while she considered. "Just call them fans." She frowned when she realized it was an all male case, except for the victims, so she changed channels again. "And you don't have to go."
"But sales?"
"So, go."
Waverly huffed, turning her head from her sister towards the TV screen, calming a little bit because Wynonna actually settled on a documentary about whales. She turned her head again to look at her sister. "You're not helping."
Wynonna shrugged, finally putting the remote to rest, since she decided on a channel her sister liked. Her hand returned to running through Waverly's hair, knowing it calmed her when she did. "Way I see it, you're already incredible, and you've already given them a big part of you through the books." She popped another kernel to her mouth, watching a whale swim around while the narrator talked statistics. "The signing's just a plus. For them."
Waverly significantly relaxed at Wynonna's words, and she sat up to cuddle to her older sister. "You mean that?"
Wynonna hummed her agreement, but added, "Mercedes'll kill you, though, if you don't show up."
The mention of her hardass manager who got her the biggest deals and actually helped her pave the way to make her most recent work on fiction be one of the top selling books had Waverly groaning. "I thought we were getting to the conclusion that I don't have to go-"
"Uh-uh. I'm just saying you've given enough of yourself." Wynonna rolled her eyes when her dramatic sister groaned again, but she rubbed her back comfortingly because that's what big sister's do. "Hey. I'll be there-"
Waverly shot up so fast she hit Wynonna's jaw. Waverly ignored Wynonna's yelp of pain. "Really?"
Wynonna made a face. "Not with a bruise, I'm not. I'm the one who gives out bruises, baby girl, sexually or otherwise."
Waverly mimed retching. "Gross."
"And I will be. I'll hang around with or without the permission of your manager. And I'll be clapping the loudest."
"There won't be any clap appropriate moments."
"I'll clap anyway!" Wynonna pulled her sister back to her so they were cuddling. "Biggest fan and all."
"You're the best, Wy."
Wynonna hummed her agreement. "That's what he said."
"Wynonna!"
"Ten minutes?" Randy kept quiet while Nicole stared down her security team. "I don't hire an entire security team for a chance to meet one of my favorite authors for a measly toilet break."
"That's actually only 5-"
"Shut up, Lonnie." Xavier Dolls sighed. "It's the best we can do, Miss Haught-"
"Really? All you have to do is guard exits-"
"We also want the environment around Miss Earp to remain calm. It's more than likely that your set of supporters overlap with Miss Earp's. We are also to keep track of their whereabouts and activities."
"How hard can that be? She's private, she'll probably have like… 150 people there-"
"She is private, Miss Haught. And I beg your pardon-" His eyes flickered towards Randy, and they shared a look. "But having you there will significantly make it less private. You already have paparazzi camping outside of your house."
"You seem awfully protective of her."
Dolls showed no indication of having heard that statement. "I would still advise that you don't push through with this. It might be more trouble than its worth."
Nicole clenched her jaw, frustrated before rolling her eyes. "Fine." She looked back at Randy. "What's the next item on our agenda?"
Randy shook his head while rubbing his temples, on the way to Nicole's room after Nicole had once again stood up after a meal without any word to him. She'd been doing that for five days now, and the closer to Waverly Earp's book signing, the noisier Nicole's exits.
"I swear sometimes I'm still dealing with a teenager," he mumbled to himself, making the corner so he could check on her before he left. He'd only had dinner with her to check on her twice, and they had been dramatic. This lunch was a the third time.
He guessed growing up under the spotlight gave people a certain quality. But he knew Nicole Haught was already one of the best of them.
"Nicole." He knocked at her door, already preparing a speech, because he may be a good manager, but he wasn't very good at fatherly speeches. "Listen we gotta talk about this. Sulking isn't helping either of us."
He shook his head, knocking again. "Nicole." Silence. He shook his head again, before turning away, muttering about teenagers and their weird antics.
"I swear to all that is holy, Nicole Haught, if you find yourself in a compromising position while you are inside, and you perchance find it more convenient to leave me here to myself-"
"Don't be weird, Doc. I’m coming back. I just really wanna meet her." Nicole perused the outside of the venue, a little jealous that there weren't any paparazzi outside. "I did suggest you bring Wyatt along."
"No, you did not. In fact, you discouraged it. Something about clothes somehow always flying."
Nicole looked back at her partner in crime, lips pursed in disgust. "I did say that, didn't I? I'm not wrong. You'll just have to stay here and wait for me to come out-"
"Darling, you were always "out"," he interrupted, complete with air quotes.
Nicole dropped her hands that had been gesturing. "Was that a joke?"
"I do not know of what you are speaking."
"Har har." She put on the baseball cap she'd randomly picked up from Doc's place. "How do I look?"
"Like a proper fugitive."
Nicole grinned at him. "This is why I love you. All right, wish me luck."
Doc watched her exit the car, already settling in the car seat. He'd never see Nicole so adamant about meeting someone before, although she had mentioned having a "tiny" crush on the writer. Then again, Doc had never heard Nicole Haught go through anything with half a heart. If she really felt strongly about this writer, she'd go to lengths. Like this one.
Waverly walked between the shelves of the bookstore she chose for the event. It was a relatively small place, but the owner had made it with up and coming authors in mind. She wanted to provide a place for new writers who were just starting out, and wanted to hold small events like what she was holding. Waverly even had her very first book signing here.
"Done hiding?"
Waverly spun, a hand coming up to her chest. "Jesus, Lexa."
Lexa smiled slightly at one of her oldest friends. She'd been there when Waverly was still a bookworm, the ideas of becoming a writer just a little bit out of reach. Now her name was in the top selling authors, and she still refused to be in the spotlight, hence Lexa's bookshop being chosen as the venue for the event.
"I don’t have space here for all your fans, you know. If you keep taking bathroom breaks, people are gonna stack up. And they'll think you have diarrhea."
Waverly dropped her hands, fiddling with her fingers. "It's just still a little surreal."
"That you're all famous now?"
Waverly made a face at her. "Stop."
Lexa grinned. "You are. You should just bask in it. Go to parties-"
"Oh, because you're a party-goer."
"Hey, I went to parties."
"Because your wife did, and you're a territorial little shit ticket."
"You will be, too." Lexa wagged a finger at her. "I've seen you with your last ex, and he wasn't anything special-"
"Ok, we have to stop insulting my exes-"
"-so when you do fall in love… You'll be the jealous type. I have money on it."
Waverly laughed stepping forward and leaning towards Lexa when the taller girl wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I don't know why-" She paused. "Hang on. You don't really have money on it, right?"
"We should go back to your signing."
"Lexa." Waverly rolled her eyes, but she laughed again, comfortable around one of her closest and oldest friends.
"Let's get you back." Lexa made a whole thing about removing the arm she'd slung around Waverly's shoulders as she did, which only made Waverly laugh again.
"It was a tiny rumor!"
"We were page 3 of a tabloid. Rumor enough." Lexa shook her head, purposefully overdramatic. "And I love you, Earp, but…" She looked up slowly, brows furrowed. "You don't deserve me."
"What the ef-" Waverly made a tiny tackle, wrapping her arms around Lexa, making Lexa laugh with her.
They were still giggling when they arrived at the table, and Lexa gave her a last shoulder pat before murmuring a good luck. Waverly sighed, glad she still held these events at Lexa's place. She looked down at her table, taking a seat, and then looked up at the next person in line.
"Hi! How…"
She was met with dimples framing something that was between a smile and a grimace, and fiery red hair mostly hidden by a beanie. And the only thing Waverly could think was Oh. I know that smile.
I have a poster of it at home.