The Perfect Ending

Zara Stanton gripped the novel tightly in her hands as the cold winter air nipped at her face. The line to the book signing was long, but she had a point to make.

The Destiny Jones series was formative in Zara's life. The first book came out when she was 12, and it instantly got its hooks in her. The brilliant globe-trotting detective series had everything a growing young woman could want: daring adventure, triumph over an adversarial world, and a playful protagonist with a series of handsome broken hearts left in her wake.

Each book release was a formative event in Zara's life. Late-night release events at Barnes and Noble, leading to countless nights re-reading passages to discuss on discussion forums dedicated to all things Destiny. Friendships that had lasted her entire adult life were built from passionate debates on which book's love interest had the best shot at an actual relationship with Destiny, always ending with an agreement that neither was good enough for her anyway.

Zara found kinship in the protagonist's life and strived to be the kind of woman who would make Destiny proud. The mystery novels planted seeds that would blossom into a true crime obsession. She joined her high school's debate club, devoured her schoolwork, and applied what she learned to forensic science lessons she found online. Every waking moment of her life was alternating between the Destiny fandom and acquiring the knowledge to become a preeminent detective just like her idol. The boys in school tried to distract her from her goals, but like Destiny, she only indulged them if she could get something from them. Once they outlived their usefulness, she cut them off and left them behind.

It surprised no one that Zara graduated Valedictorian of her class, nor was it a surprise when she spurned top universities to join the prestigious New York police academy. Her father had tried to persuade her to pursue less dangerous pursuits, but was told bluntly that Destiny never would back down in the face of danger. Zara was popular in the male-dominated police academy at first, but after loving and leaving a few top-performing classmates and instructors, she developed a reputation as a cold-hearted, career-focused, no time for anyone but herself kinda girl.

That suited her just fine. Seemingly overnight, she became the force's top crime scene technician. Juries hung on her every word when called to testify, and the brass sent her out regularly to talk about cases. When the Times came asking to do a profile, she knew exactly what the title would be. "The Real Life Destiny Jones," article hung proudly on Zara's office wall. Despite all the medals, rewards, and certificates she gathered, an article comparing her to her fictional idol was Zara's most prized accomplishment. At least it had been until recently.

Zara turned to peer into the homey little local bookstore. She frowned when she caught sight of the man who had taken so much from her. Jeffrey Paxton, the author of the Destiny Jones novels, smiled and chatted with a fan while he signed a copy of Destiny Jones' Grand Finale for them. Zara's eyes squinted, silently judging the middle-aged woman laughing as she spoke with Paxton. No true fan would be chumming it up with Paxton now.

Zara had always had mixed feelings about Paxton. The idea that a modern feminist icon like Jones was created by a straight, heterosexual white man seemed inconceivable.

But in interview after interview, he managed to always say the right things. "This is a work for my future daughters to enjoy," Zara recalled him saying vividly on Leno a half-decade ago. "Boys have classic heroes abound in literature. Your Sherlock Holmes, King Arthurs, and in the modern contexts Spidermans. I want to create a serialized mystery novel which appeals to the modern woman."

These were the statements that made fans like Zara comfortable that their heroine was in the right hands. Paxton got it. He was one of the few good men, an ally. Zara was ashamed to say she even had a crush on him. His sharp gaze from the photo on the back of the book cover watched over the young woman while she masturbated many a night.

Then, of course, he had to ruin it.

The buildup to Grand Finale had been massive. Paxton, after 14 novels and 3 collections of short stories, was ending the Destiny Jones saga. Fans across the internet congregate with Zara on the official subreddit to share fan theories. Would Destiny finish one more triumphant mystery before passing the torch to her young protégé? Would she be betrayed by an ex-lover and suffer such trauma that she would leave behind detective work for good? Would she even live by the end of the novel? All theories were possible, and each prerelease interview with Paxton only added to the feverish speculation of fans.

"I want the young women who grew up on these novels to see themselves in Destiny's final novel," he said cryptically on late-night show after late-night show. The fandom responded eagerly, pre-ordering the book in droves as bookstores across the country prepared for a release night experience they hadn't seen in decades.

Then, 2 months ago, it finally came out. Zara was first in line to pick up her copy and eagerly went back to her friend's to read the book. But her smile quickly faded as she read.

It started strong with Destiny going to Paris to solve who had taken a valuable painting from the Louvre. But the excitement of the mystery faded into the background. Destiny met Pierre, a handsome police lieutenant, and the novel just stayed with them for chapter after chapter. Destiny had her fun with men before, but it wasn't written like this. Descriptions of Destiny's thoughts lingered on the blond haired blue eyed Frenchman and how he was making Destiny feel. She made no headway in finding the painting, instead spending her time romancing Pierre on a series of dates. By the end of the novel, the two were married with a child on the way, painting long forgotten about, while Destiny wrote about her prior journeys, eager to share them with her newborn when they arrived.

Zara didn't believe it when she reached the end of the book. She felt sick to her stomach as she shakily left the bookstore, her so-called friends giggling and conversing amongst themselves about how romantic it was. But this wasn't Destiny Jones to Zara. This was a weird domesticated stepfordized version of Destiny. A sex fantasy written by a pervert who was ripping the hearts out of the fans he cultivated.

Some of her friends enjoyed the books. Zara stopped speaking to them. She made a new subreddit, r/whereistherealdestiny, where true fans like her had begun to air their grievances about this profound betrayal. They jeered at positive reviews and sales figures, posted photos of themselves burning the book, or going into bookstores and hiding the novel in sections away from the rest of the Destiny Jones catalogue. "I'm stopping young girls from having their idol taken from them," read one post Zara had favorited detailing how the writer had bought all the copies of Grand Finale from her local bookstore and burned them in her backyard. It was an example of everything Zara wanted: women raising up other women, and hurting the men trying to steal their joy.

Zara glared at the middle-aged man as the heat coming from the bookstore's open door finally hit her face. Jeffrey still had that rugged, good look from the old book covers, but aged. His black hair had turned mostly gray now, and he grew a well-maintained beard and goatee that made him look distinguished, even fatherly. It was the perfect cloak for a snake like him.

Zara stepped into the bookstore as the line inched forward again. There were about five people in front of her in line now. Her heart was racing in her chest. She forgot her carefully worded speech, which she had spent all night memorizing. Another fan finished interacting with Jeffrey. Four people left. Zara quickly pulled out her phone and turned on the camera app to record her confrontation. She switched to video mode and quickly checked to make sure her makeup wasn't smudged as two more people went and got their books signed. It was perfect as usual, yet she couldn't help but be nervous. She had stared down murderers at trial, but this was the most nervous she had been. The last person in front of her shook Jeffrey's hand and walked away to the right.

"Next, please," Jeffrey called to her. Zara closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before walking forward to the table where Jeffrey sat, pen in hand, wearing a warm, friendly smile. Zara hit record as she walked to him, dropping the book on the table in front of him.

"Mr. Paxton," she began with a quiver in her voice. "My name is Zara. I've been a Destiny Jones fan since I was a teenager. Your books inspired me to be the woman I am today."

Jeffrey gave her a warm smile, gazing at her with hazel eyes that sparkled in the warm lighting of the small bookstore. "Why, thank you," he said politely as he opened the book. "It means so much to me that I have inspired a fine young woman such as yourself."

Zara's legs quaked as she struggled to hold the phone steady. Jeffrey's eyes seemed so inviting, but the words she wanted to say seemed stuck in her throat. Thankfully, his gaze and smile turned downward as he opened her book to sign in.

"What... what gives you the right to take my idol away from me?" Zara blurted out while Jeffrey signed her book.

Jeffrey's head shot up with a look of concern. "Excuse me?" he asked.

Zara took a step forward, putting herself right at the table's edge. Jeffrey's concerned expression gave her new courage.

"I said what gives you the right to take Destiny Jones away from the women who grew up with her," she pressed, pointing the camera at the author's face.

Jeffrey looked at the phone in the woman's hand, the reality of the situation dawning on him. "Oh, you are one of those fans," he muttered as he finished signing the book.

Zara smirked. "Not just one of those fans, I am the creator of the subreddit where is the real Destiny. I represent the thousands of women you betrayed by turning our icon into some creepy weirdos broodmother."

Jeffrey squirmed in his chair and glanced at the fans behind Zara. "I'm sorry, the last novel wasn't to your taste, but the other novels are still there to enjoy."

"How can I enjoy them when the knowledge of who Destiny becomes poisons every page?" Zara responded immediately, not allowing for a moment of silence. "You have tainted this series and destroyed this fandom! I hope all the money you made from us was worth being the most despised man on the internet."

Zara snatched the book from the table and walked away. "Showed him, girls," she said to the camera before performatively throwing the book into a trash can. She hit the stop record button and brushed past the line of fans staring at her as she walked out of the store and into the cool air of the February evening.

***

Zara smiled as she scrolled through the comments under her post. The video was a huge hit.

"Yas queen slay".

"Show that pig".

"Patriarchy destroyed".

Zara leaned back in her desk chair, petting her pet cat as he napped lovingly in her lap.

Suddenly, a ding came from her computer speakers. Reddit alerted her that she had a new dm request. Lazily, she reached for her mouse and clicked the notification.

Hey, I assume this is Zara's account. This is Jeffrey Paxton. I'm sorry my latest book disappointed you, and I hoped that I could take you out to dinner and hopefully address your community's concerns.

Zara blinked after reading the message, not convinced it wasn't a prank. She clicked on the profile and saw an AMA thread on the Destiny Jones subreddit. Her hand covered her mouth as a second message arrived.

"I travel back to Connecticut on Friday. If you are interested, let's meet for dinner at Salvatore's on 9th Street tomorrow at seven. My treat."

Zara frowned. Was Jeffrey seriously asking her on a date? It was almost insulting. Such a guy thing to do. She reached to her keyboard to tell him to fuck off.

"Thanks for the offer. I'd love to meet you tomorrow!" she typed, hitting enter before she could even process what she had written.

She blinked and looked at the message. Did she just accept?

Zara shook her head. Of course, she did! A date would be the perfect way to humiliate Jeffrey further! The first in-person confrontation was such a hit that a sequel was certainly on the table.

"Great, I'll look forward to seeing you tomorrow!" came in a response to her dm.

Zara chuckled. "You want to go on a date, Mr. Paxton? I'll give you a date you will never forget."

***

Zara tottered into the restaurant uncomfortably in her heels. The last time she had worn them was at her cousin's wedding four years ago. She couldn't exactly think of why she felt compelled to wear them today, nor could she recall why she chose the old black cocktail dress to attire herself in for this evening. Thankfully, she was saved from revealing that with a fashionable leather jacket.

"Ah, there you are," Jeffrey said as he rose from a seat by the entrance of the quiet Italian restaurant, sliding a notebook into his jacket's breast pocket as he approached.

Zara blushed. She hated to admit it, but he cleaned up quite nicely. His purple dress shirt stood out compared to his black dress pants, and he was definitely rocking the silver fox look. Zara didn't know why, but she was really looking forward to having dinner with him.

"You know, I was quite surprised to have my hate subreddit's creator show up at my book signing last night. And for her to turn out to be the real-life Destiny Jones, too!" Jeffrey exclaimed as he walked Zara to the podium. She found herself blushing despite her best efforts.

"Oh, you've heard about me," she replied, trying to avoid eye contact as the pair approached the hostess podium.

"Reservation under Paxton, please," Jeffrey said, momentarily turning his gaze away from Zara to the Hostess.

"Of course, Mr. Paxton. I loved the last book!" the pretty young hostess said with a smile of adoration that made Zara's teeth grit.

"Your Jacket Ms.?" The hostess asked while Zara struggled to keep a straight face.

Instantly, anger was replaced with embarrassment. Zara tried to say she was cold, but it came out as "Thank you!" followed by unfamiliar movements that removed the jacket, slowly revealing the low-cut, form-fitting dress underneath. She blushed harder when, as her eyes darted around, she found Jeffrey staring at her with a smile.

"Damn you, clean up nicely," the waitress said. "I'm a little jealous. You are so lucky to be dating Mr. Paxton."

Zara panicked, mind racing to find the words to clarify her intentions. She felt so hot that she swore she would start sweating any moment.

Jeffrey laughed, cutting the awkward pause that had felt like a millennia. "Well, we aren't really on a date per se. This is just a friendly dinner to talk about my work."

The waitress smiled. "Ah, well, you can forgive the misunderstanding. You see a girl dress liked that meeting a handsome man for a romantic dinner, and the mental math happens automatically," the waitress said with a wink as she walked behind the podium and put Zara's coat on a rack. "And hey, maybe you didn't come intending a date, but one will happen anyway."

Zara blushed and tried to look away from the waitress and Jeffrey, biting her lip nervously as the two laughed.

"Follow me," the waitress said after grabbing some menus.

Zara followed behind Jeffrey and the hostess nervously. The table they were brought to was in an intimate corner of the restaurant with a lovely window view of the outside. Jeffrey pulled out a chair for her with a smile, which Zara hesitantly sat in.

Jeffrey took his seat across from her and took a menu from the hostess. "Thank you for the hospitality, miss," he said. "It's a big dinner for me. Trying to reclaim a lost fan of my work."

Zara's stomach twisted in a knot. Here she was, dressed to the nines with literature's most eligible bachelor to debate the merits of his last book. Nervously, she took the other menu from the hostess and began to look over the options available to her, desperate to avoid eye contact with anyone.

"It's all delicious, I promise," Jeffrey said. "Though I suppose the meal wasn't why you came to meet me today. So why don't you come out and say what you want from me this evening?"

Zara looked up from the menu, finding Jeffrey scribbling in his small pocket notebook. She shuddered as she contemplated her next words. Some part of her felt like she could be honest with him. He was a nice guy after all, right? He was treating her to a nice dinner at an exclusive restaurant. The least she could do was humor him.

"I uh, I guess I came to get you to say something to justify my feelings about you and the book," she muttered, her cheeks turning bright red as the words spilled from her mouth. Had she really just said that?

"Oh?" Jeffrey replied. "Expecting me to admit Pierre is a self-insert character meant to snatch away my heroine from my readers? Or perhaps to say that I am reclaiming the character from overzealous fans of Destiny?"

An awkward pause fell over the table as Zara stared into the eyes of Jeffrey, which glittered in the moody lights of the restaurant. Had he read her theory about Pierre being a self-insert? He had to if he had jumped straight to that.

The pause was interrupted by a handsome waiter coming by the table and giving them water, asking if they wanted to order wine. Zara was about to refuse when Jeffrey ordered a bottle of wine for the table, which the waiter said was an excellent choice.

"I wasn't planning on drinking tonight," Zara muttered.

Jeffrey smiled. "More for me than, though I must advise you will be missing out. It's a fantastic red," he said before taking a sip of his water.

As he put his glass down, he cleared his throat. "Now, back to the matter at hand, I will say I didn't realize my last book would hurt fans like you quite as much as it did."

Zara squirmed nervously in her seat. "So you meant it to hurt the fans?" she asked in her best accusatory voice, given the circumstances, internally cursing that she wasn't filming when he admitted his misdeeds to her.

The waiter came back with a wine bottle. It had a fancy label, Zara was sure it was expensive. She decided not to stop him as he poured. The wine would pair nicely with the admissions Jeffrey was making. The pair ordered their meal, with Zara ordering the filet partially to show she wasn't the girly girl her outfit implied and partially to spite Jeffrey by ordering the most expensive thing she could find on the menu. Sadly, Jeffrey just smiled and told her the steak was phenomenal. Zara frowned and took a sip of the wine.

Jeffrey took his wine glass and sipped as the waiter left. "I see you changed your mind on the wine. An excellent decision," he commented as he finished his sip. "Back to the conversation, though, I knew there would be some controversy. People want things not to change."

Zara smirked. "Well, some things don't need to change."

Jeffrey's cheerful demeanor was replaced with a somewhat dour expression.

"I was worried you would say something like that. It was always my worry when writing Destiny's stories that fans like you would take the wrong lessons from them."

"Wrong lessons?" Zara scoffed. "Like what, being a strong, capable woman?"

Zara took a big sip of her wine, enjoying its taste and finish while she watched Jeffrey squirm in his seat. His sigh told her everything she needed to know.

"Of course not," he stammered out. "If I didn't believe women could be capable protagonists, I wouldn't have written one for so long."

Zara reveled in the sorry tone Jeffrey spoke, somewhere between remorse and defensiveness. She had him pinned like so many criminals she helped put away.