Hyacinth Page 8

  Confusion stared back at her. “I told you I was a writer.”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t tell me you were a real writer.”

  Leaning back in the booth, Alan bit back a smile. “As opposed to a fake writer?”

  Cindy, on the other hand, leaned forward and lowered her voice. “As opposed to a really bad writer who doesn’t sell books. You’re famous.”

  “Fame is in the eye of the beholder.” He shrugged.

  “I never have time to read and even I know who Alan Peters is.”

  A huge grin took over his face. “You do?”

  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. “Your books have been on the New York Times bestseller list steadily for years. Your name rolls off the tongue alongside the likes of James Patterson, Lee Child, or Dan Brown. Of course I know who Alan Peters is.” Well—his books anyway. And then it hit her. He’d offered to donate proceeds from his next book to her project. Now she was the one who might hyperventilate.

  “Are you okay?” Alan leaned in. “All the color just slid away from your face. I’ve written that, but I’ve never actually seen it.”

  Raising her hands to her cheeks, she nodded her head and snapped her mouth shut. “I was just thinking about your donation.”

  Relief washed over his face. “You scared me for a minute.”

  “Here we go.” Mabel set the dish down in front of each of them, but grinned at Alan. “I had Jimmy on the grill give you extra fries.” She winked. “No additional charge.”

  Keeping an eye on Mabel as she shuffled across the diner, Alan waited until she was completely out of earshot to lean forward again and speak. “Since I’m pretty sure that by the time I finish this sandwich the entire town is going to know that I’m here, what do you think of adding a book signing booth to the street fair?”

  “You’d do that?” The thought really nice guy flashed to the forefront of her mind.

  His head tipped slightly to one side and his brows crinkled. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

  Cindy folded her fingers together and sucked in a deep breath. “This may be the most activity our little town bookstore has ever seen.” She picked up her grilled sandwich, almost too excited to eat. “As soon as we’re done here we’ll hit Buy the Book.”

  Grilled cheese halfway to his mouth, his hands froze. “I gather that’s the name of the bookstore?”

  “It is.”

  “B Y or B U Y?”

  “B U Y. Though I believe buy buy was in contention instead of buy the. At least that’s the way the story goes, but it’s been Buy the Book for as long as I can remember.”

  “However it’s spelled, I’m glad to do something for a good cause and to support a local bookstore. As far as I can tell, it’s a win-win for everyone.”

  “Here, here.” She raised her glass of water and took a bite of her grilled cheese. Mouth full, she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat too close for comfort. Glancing up to her left, a young woman she didn’t recognize stood beside them.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch, but could I have your autograph please?” The young lady sported a shaky smile.

  “Of course.” By the time he handed back the signed napkin, a short line had formed behind him. The poor guy wasn’t going to get much chance to eat at all.

  Taking another bite of her sandwich, Cindy glanced at the growing line and realized they had a whole new publicity angle to add to their promotions. If she’d had any concerns before about turning a reasonable profit, they just flew out the window. Thank heaven for nice guys.

  Chapter Ten

  “Did you know?” Hands on her hips, Cindy stood in front of her grandparents.

  Carefully pinning two fabric squares together, Grams glanced up at her. “Know what, dear?”

  “That your guest in the Aspen cabin is a world famous mystery writer.”

  “Is he?” The General looked a tad too surprised.

  “Isn’t that nice.” Her grandmother resumed sliding pins into the squares.

  Lucy came through the doorway carrying a tray of her fresh squeezed lemonade. “Isn’t what nice?”

  The screen door swung open, and her red hair blowing in the breeze, Rose came flying inside. “Is it true?”

  Cindy didn’t have to ask what her cousin was talking about. “Yes.”

  “Is what true?” Lucy set the tray down on the table and straightened, fisting both hands onto her hips. “And isn’t what nice?”

  Rose whirled around to face Lucy. “The crazy roast stabbing and dummy loving guest in the Aspen cabin is the world famous mystery writer, Alan Peters.”

  In all her years, Cindy didn’t think she had ever seen Lucy’s eyes circled so big and round. The woman’s jaw actually dropped open. Any minute now she’d be catching flies.

  “Speaking of which,” the General set his tablet aside, “where is our renowned guest?”

  “He didn’t want to leave the kittens too long again, so they’re installed upstairs in the last bedroom. I left him washing his hands.”

  The screen door swung open again. This time Ralph came through the door with Thelma and Louise on his tail. “Ned and Nadine are parking their car.”

  Of course, after news spread through town like wildfire, this afternoon’s card game would turn into a full house.

  Looking around the room, Thelma practically shoved Louise out of the way. “Where is he?”

  “He will be here any minute.” Cindy put on her stern veterinarian face. “Can we please not all act like a pack of rabid hyenas?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Her grandmother’s hands stilled as she leveled her gaze on her granddaughter.

  “I just want everybody to act perfectly normal around him. No bombarding him with requests for autographs—” The sounds of Thelma and Ralph snapping their fingers as if they’d missed out on the winning lottery numbers cut into her words. “No taking pictures, no peppering him with questions, and no more requests to read your unfinished manuscript.”

  “Who did that?” Poppy came out to the porch from inside.

  Lifting her hands high into the air, Cindy let them drop in a fast—and frustrated—whoosh. “Apparently, we have more wanna-be writers in this town than I ever could have dreamed. He dropped off a stack of at least eight manuscripts when we picked up the kittens.”

  “Really?” Rose looked to her cousin.

  “Why would I lie?”

  “Is someone’s pants on fire?” Alan stepped onto the porch. “The kittens seem very happy. One went left, the other went right, they sniffed along the perimeter, met in the middle and promptly fell over sound asleep.”

  Her grandmother’s hands stilled on her lap, and Grams smiled up at no one in particular. “Don’t you just love it when they do that?”

  “They are rather cute,” Alan admitted.

  The General handed Alan a cold drink and set a deck of cards at each table. “Do the kittens have names yet?”

  “I thought it best to wait for whoever is going to become their forever home to name them.”

  “Brilliant idea. Speaking of which, I have another one.” Rose took a seat at one of the tables. “This Thursday night the museum is having a gala dinner auction. We’re expecting some of the museum’s biggest donors. One in particular I happen to know is a huge fan of Alan Peters.”

  “Oh,” Grams glanced up from the pincushion, “I like where you’re going with this.”

  Rose smiled at her grandmother and turned to Cindy. “I know I mentioned before that you should come and mingle with our guests, and just happen to mention the wildlife project.” She turned momentarily to her partner in cards across the table. “After all, animals are a favorite cause of the philanthropic set. Anyhow, I think if you come and bring Alan, we can really get some buzz going for your fundraiser.”

  “I don’t know.” Cindy sucked in a deep breath. “First of all, these people, regardless of how much money they have, don’t have bottomless pockets. Either they’re going to g
ive to your fundraiser for the museum or mine. And frankly, I feel like showing up to pinch your guests’ wallets is a bit like poaching.”

  Swallowing a chuckle, Alan smiled at her. “No offense intended, but have you ever considered being a writer?”

  Cindy rolled her eyes, choosing to accept the comment as a compliment rather than a tease. “Can’t say that I have.”

  “Personally, I think it’s a good idea.” Alan shrugged at her. “I mean, the part about going to the gala.”

  “Isn’t it enough that you are now reading a bunch of strange peoples’ half written books. Probably, may I point out, badly written books.”

  He shrugged again. “You never know. One of them might be good.”

  The man seriously was way too nice. How had she ever thought he could possibly be a serial killer? “Okay, maybe. But even so, on top of reading these manuscripts, finishing your own book, you’re also doing a book signing for the street fair. Don’t you think that’s enough?”

  “Sweetie.” Grams hands came to rest on her lap. “While I do understand your concern about taking advantage of Mr. Peterson’s generosity with his time, perhaps you should look at the gala not so much as a work effort but a fun evening at a lovely party. After all, Rose does throw lovely parties.”

  “See!” Rose flashed her cousin a huge toothy grin.

  Heads around the room nodded their agreement. It looked like she’d been outnumbered.

  ***

  “I think he’s been holding out on us.” Thelma tossed the last of her cards onto the table.

  Ralph scribbled the new score onto the scratchpad. “He did say he knew how to play.”

  “Yeah,” Louise reached for the new deck, “but he didn’t say he knew how to play that well.”

  “Didn’t you mention you were a military brat?” Ned asked from the next table.

  Alan nodded. Considering Ned was the one with the worst hearing on the porch, he was the only one who seemed to have paid any attention when Alan had explained where he’d learned to play whist. “I am, but my grandfather is the one responsible for teaching me. He loved to play.”

  “That’s right.” Ned nodded. “An Annapolis grad. Everyone I ever met who graduated from the Naval Academy seems to have mastered the game.”

  “Are we going to yak all night, or are we going to play?” The General shoved the deck of cards in Ned’s direction. “Cut,” he ordered sternly.

  “Heather just called,” Lucy announced from the doorway. “A patient took a bad turn last night, and she needs to stay nearby.”

  “It sure will be nice when the new wing of the hospital is done.” Poppy flopped into one of the rockers. “I know that Heather was worried things wouldn’t happen quickly, but it was absolutely amazing how much money the fundraiser brought in. I still can’t believe groundbreaking is in a few weeks.”

  “And with the warm weather season upon us,” Louise dealt the cards, “there’s a good chance the job will be done by winter.”

  Thelma picked up a card. “Maybe Rose should consider going into the fundraising business instead of the museum business.”

  Rose shook her head. “No, thank you. First off, I wouldn’t know a darn thing about it if not for the museum and all the functions they throw to keep their patrons happy and bring in the funds for the bigger exhibits. Secondly, I only put what I’ve learned to use with people I love and thankfully I’m running out of people I love who need to raise money.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Grams blew out a slow sigh. “I’m a tad concerned about Zinnia. I think she’s floundering a little.”

  “What exactly is she doing now?” Thelma asked.

  “None of us are terribly sure.” The General dealt out the last cards. “She’s been rather secretive. Excited, but secretive.”

  “And you know,” Grams said, “if the General can’t maneuver details out of her, none of us will.”

  Lucy laughed. “Ain’t that the truth.”

  The storm door slammed shut. Still dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, her blonde hair in her usual ponytail, Callie threw her arms up in the air. “We won!”

  “And you’re back earlier than we expected.” Grams tipped her head in anticipation of a kiss on her cheek.

  “Amazingly enough, every kid was accounted for and on their way home within minutes of stepping off the bus. I decided whatever needed to be organized post-win could wait till tomorrow. I’m hungry and tired.” Callie dropped into the rocker beside her grandmother and sister.

  “Anyone hear from Lily?” Lucy asked.

  “Oh, sorry.” Poppy raised a hand. “She didn’t want to make anyone else stay after closing so she’s waiting for someone from the PTA to pick up their order for tonight’s concert.”

  “What concert?” Cindy asked.

  Multiple heads turned to look at her. Some wide-eyed, some shaking, others merely rolling their eyes.

  “Tonight is the first summer music night.” Nadine reminded her. “I’m just glad I’m not on duty tonight.”

  “Music night?” Alan asked.

  Poppy smiled up at him. “Yes, the first Sunday of every month during the warm weather season, the town brings in some band to play at the gazebo. They set up a dance floor and everything.”

  “Some bands work out better than others.” Thelma rearranged her cards. “I bid four.”

  “The band they had at the end of last summer was fantastic.” Callie stretched her arms and set the rocker in motion. “Not too fast, not to slow, a nice blend of music for all ages.”

  “Yes, that’s what the music committee is rooting for,” Nadine reassured.

  “Hmm,” Poppy said. “Maybe we should check it out.”

  “That’s what I was just thinking.” Callie bobbed her head and turned to Cindy. “What about you?”

  Instinctively her gaze shifted to Alan and quickly back to her cousin. What did it mean that what she really wanted to say was only if he does? “Could be fun.”

  “What about you, Mr. Superstar?” Rose asked.

  “Superstar?” Callie followed Rose’s gaze. “Did I miss something?”

  Snickers of muffled laughter filled the air and a dash of pink eased up Alan’s neck. “The cat—so to speak—has been let out of the bag that my pen name is Alan Peters.”

  Callie’s eyes rounded big and wide. “Man, one day at a track meet and the biggest thing to hit this town since Grant showed up in a Lamborghini happens.”

  His gaze shifted momentarily to Cindy, at least she thought it did, before he faced Rose. “I think it sounds like fun.”

  Had the man who’d hibernated in his cabin for almost a month really just said that an open air concert with half the town would be fun?

  “Great!” Poppy spun about. “I’d better go help Lucy get dinner on the table!”

  Cindy followed after her sister. Suddenly, going to a crowded summer dance sounded like the most fun she would ever have in her life.

  ***

  Compared to sharing dinner with the family the night before, the gathering of both friends and family for a meal tonight was louder, busier, more chaotic, but just as fun. Alan couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt more at home at a dining table, or laughed more over a meal. Well, not before today. This afternoon, lunch and cat names and one very lovely blonde animal doctor now strolling beside him down Main Street, had definitely been one of the best meals he could remember. Even with the unexpected revelation of his pen name.

  “Oh, look.” Poppy pointed up the street at the fire department vehicles parked ahead. “I wonder if Cole is on duty tonight?”

  “Cole?” Alan leaned in and whispered to Cindy. He didn’t remember any mention of other members of the family.

  “Lily’s fiancé,” she answered back.

  Now he remembered. Somewhere in all the conversations during the last two days, the subject of who was engaged to whom had come up and he had taken note of a fireman. In the back of his mind, he’d filed the information as a
good reason to do a firehouse thriller. If nothing else the research would give him a valid excuse to come back to Lawford. Soon.

  “How are the renovations coming on Violet’s studio?” Poppy slowed her pace to match Rose’s.

  “Fortunately, she and Grant aren’t the ones doing the actual work.”

  “Excuse me?” Callie raised a brow at her cousin.

  Rose rolled her eyes. “I think it’s great that my sister is over the moon in love with a guy who can’t live without her, but so far I have yet to see them stand more than an inch apart from each other, and I’m pretty sure they haven’t eaten a meal alone in weeks. When I called to see if she wanted to hitch a ride up here this weekend, she had to take a rain check because they were going to some cousin of Grant’s birthday party on the Cape.”

  “At least she gets along well with his side of the family,” Cindy offered.

  “I suppose.” Rose’s agreement sounded less than convincing.

  “Besides,” Poppy picked up the pace, “aren’t you always too busy with work?”

  One side of Rose’s mouth tipped up in a bashful smile as she repeated, “I suppose.”

  “Mm,” Poppy countered, her grin beaming with satisfaction. Sounds of matching notes trickled in the air and Poppy looped her arm with her sister. “They’re starting. We’d better hurry.”

  The two sisters took off galloping up the street, Callie pausing long enough to grab onto Rose and drag her behind them, leaving Alan and Cindy walking unaccompanied.

  “Hey.” Lily’s voiced sounded over his shoulder seconds before she and a man he assumed had to be Cole came running up beside them holding hands. “Better pick up the pace. Don’t want to miss the beginning or you won’t be able to get near the dance floor.” Not waiting for a response, giggling like a couple of little kids, the two continued up the street at a fast clip.

  “What do you say?” He held his hand out to Cindy and mentally crossed his fingers.

  Her hand slid into his. “Glad I wore comfortable shoes!”