Writing a Wrong by Tiffany King Page A

allowed me to pound out an entire chapter, pushing me ahead of my word count schedule. I was all smiles by the time we landed in New York. Even my ankle felt better after a two-hour rest. The captain turned off the fasten seatbelt sign as I gathered my bag from under the seat and the flight attendants ushered the first-class passengers off the plane first. I had to admit, I could already see myself getting spoiled by first class. If this was the type of treatment I would receive for the rest of the trip, I would have no complaints.
    Surprisingly, the terminal at LaGuardia seemed dead in comparison to what I'd left behind in Orlando. Following the signs, I made my way to baggage claim in record time and was one of the first passengers at the luggage carousel. I found a spot against the wall and turned on my cell phone while waiting for my bags to come tumbling out of the chute. It was always torture to be without my phone for an entire flight, but it made focusing on work so much easier. It also meant that I looked like a crack addict needing a fix by the time I turned on the phone again.
    I smiled when I clicked on the message icon to find that Alec had sent me a couple texts. Miss your face already. I sighed while reading it until I saw his next message. He had taken a picture of Severus with a little note attached to his neck that read: So do I. Severus didn't look at all pleased, but it still cracked me up.
    I miss you both too, I returned as the luggage carousel began to move.
    The rest of the passengers from the flight had arrived and surrounded the carousel, eagerly waiting for their luggage. My good luck continued as my bags were two of the first pieces to leave the chute.
    LaGuardia was officially my favorite airport. I snatched my suitcases off the spinning carousel and dragged them to the side to scan the area. Olivia had guaranteed that my publisher would have a car waiting for me.
    "Ms. Blake?" a voice inquired to my left.
    "Yes," I answered, turning toward a guy with boyishly good looks who appeared to be roughly my age. He was wearing a suit that might have been a size too small. It looked a bit rumpled, like something one of my brothers would wear if forced to for the right occasion. You could tell he would be more comfortable in something else—probably jeans and a T-shirt. A lock of hair fell across his forehead, but he brushed it back only to have it fall back a second later.
    "I'm Greg. I'll be your assistant/driver/event organizer and everything else in between for the next month and a half."
    I raised an eyebrow. An assistant? That was something new. Olivia was the only assistant I needed, and she would be with me for almost two weeks. "A month and half?" I asked, latching on to the second part of his statement. I could see needing someone for the bus tour, but that wasn't for another two weeks and would only last a month. The publisher planned for the tour to end on Valentine's Day in Philadelphia, which was voted one of the most romantic cities in America by a reader survey they had done. That was how they came up with the twenty cities for the tour. Each one had made the list. Time would tell if by the end of the trip I would find myself romantically inspired or ready to hang myself with a licorice whip.
    Greg nodded. "I believe it's something your agent insisted on. I've been briefed on your itinerary and it was explained to me that my job is to make things as easy as possible for you. Chocolate, Cheez Doodles, Starbucks—I'm your guy," he said, grinning.
    "How did you know I like—wait, you've been talking to Olivia?"
    "Guilty," he replied, grabbing the handles of my suitcases and wheeling them out the door.
    This trip was definitely looking up. Having my own assistant seemed a little pretentious, but I couldn't deny that a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. Maybe I'd survive this extravaganza after all. "Hey, I can get one of those," I said, trailing after him.
    "Please. You're the talent.