before he withdraws them.
Damn.
For a moment, I am sure that I must have imagined things. But this thought is revoked when I notice Lesley glancing over to me.
She noticed it, too.
But unlike before, when she thought that he had been looking at her, she doesn't say a word this time. She does give me a little frown, though, when she notices that I am not applauding like everyone else.
"Maybe, huh," the interviewer repeats, adding a snicker himself. "Well, Cedric, your stories are known to be a little... let's say daunting. Why do you think that attracts so many people?"
Mr. Crow looks at the interviewer and hesitates for a moment. It is unusual for him to be processing an answer for this long. And there is no need to wait for silence, as the venue hardly could not be any quieter.
Thousands of people are hanging on to his lips. And he makes no effort in hiding how much he likes it. He is bathing in the undivided attention, his eyes scanning through the attentive audience with relish.
Then, he looks back down to the first few rows.
No.
He is looking at me.
And this time, there is absolutely no doubt.
My heart skips a beat. Then another one. And another one.
His eyes are still on me. And by now, it is becoming apparent to everyone around us.
Geez. Why is he doing this?
The tension is almost unbearable. The entire audience is staring at him, eagerly awaiting a reply, increasing the tension with their anticipation.
While he just sits there and fixates me with his intense gaze.
“I don’t know why it attracts so many of my readers,” he finally says without adverting his eyes from me. “We could just ask them.”
The interviewer – much like everyone else in the hall – does not understand what Mr. Crow is aiming at.
“Well, um, we can’t really do that right now, so-“
“Yes, we can,” Mr. Crow interrupts. “Let’s ask that young lady right here.”
He lifts his right arm and unerringly points at me.
Lesley gasps next to me while my face loses all of its color.
Fuck .
Chapter Four
We are not the only ones who are taken aback by Cedric Crow’s odd suggestion. Another confused murmur is spreading through the hall. People around us are stretching and leaning forward to see who that ‘young lady’ is he is pointing at.
The interviewer looks back and forth between me and Cedric Crow, unsure what to do.
“That, um, well, I mean we can’t just-“
“I’m sure we can,” Mr. Crow interrupts. “Would you care to join us up here for a minute?”
It is the first time that he is directly addressing me.
I hold my breath – and so does Lesley next to me. Unrest and muttering sweep through the crowd, and I have no idea what to do. So I opt for the only response that comes to mind and firmly shake my head.
He smirks and nods. “No worries, I don’t bite.”
The crowd laughs, and Lesley nudges me from the side.
“Come on,” she hisses. “Don’t embarrass him.”
Embarrass him ? What about embarrassing me?
I turn around and look at her with indignation.
“Excuse me?” I hiss at her. “Are you out of your mind? I can’t just-“
I stop when I notice a staff member running along the small aisle between the stage and the first row. He is carrying a little step and places it down in front of the stage.
“Go!” Lesley urges, grabbing me by the arm in an attempt to lift me up from my seat.
I feel completely helpless as I get up and squeeze myself past the people sitting between us and the middle aisle, avoiding eye contact with all of them.
I don’t need to look back to know that all eyes are now on me, just waiting for me to trip and fall or embarrass myself with whatever will come out of my mouth, once I am standing on stage, interrogated by the man who everybody here adores. Whatever he intends to do – they will all be on his side. I can only come out as the loser in all of this.
Great.
I move slowly, almost like a robot. The man who brought the step to the stage also