“My eleven-year-old cat sitter saw it.”
“Well, okay, but no one at the book festival is going to have seen it. They were too busy enjoying themselves out on the water or eating clam chowder or whatever they were doing today. It’ll be—Oops, your phone is purring, you’re getting another text. I think it’s your agent.”
“Oh.” I rushed over to grab the phone from Bernadette. “Finally! I’ve been waiting all weekend to hear from her.”
Rosie Tate: Sorry for the tardy reply, I was traveling. Can’t apologize enough for Will Price being there when I know I swore to you that he wouldn’t be. But it looks like you’re getting along well enough now. Saw the piece in BuzzFeed. You two are trending at number ten in the U.S. on Twitter right now!
I thought I might start hyperventilating when another text from her arrived.
Rosie Tate: I have never heard a word about Will’s personal life. I honestly don’t think he has one. All the guy seems to do is write and then work to promote what he’s written.
Rosie Tate: P.S. I ran into the head of Netflix children’s programming in Aruba and pitched her a Kitty K reboot. She said she didn’t hate the idea! Let’s talk on Monday.
Rosie Tate: P.P.S. How’s the writing going? I’m only wondering because your editor emailed me Friday to ask when she can expect a first draft.
I drew back my arm to throw my phone off the balcony, but Bernadette pried it out of my hands. “What? What did she say?”
“Nothing.” I sank down onto the bed in defeat. “Just … Will and I are trending.”
“Trending?”
“On Twitter. We’re number ten in the U.S.”
Bernadette’s lips twitched. I could tell she was trying not to laugh, but she couldn’t control herself. “I’m sorry,” she said, and dropped my phone in order to whip out her own. “But I have to tell Jen. This is just too funny.”
“I’m glad that my agony is so amusing to you.”
“You’re not in agony,” Bernadette said as she typed. “If you were really that unhappy about what was going on, you’d pack up and leave.”
“I can’t. Like you said, I owe it to Lauren to stay.”
“Oh, just admit that part of you is getting something out of this—whether it’s inspiration to write Kitty Katz number twenty-seven at last, or … something else.” She waggled her eyebrows as she said something else. “I haven’t seen you this heated up over a guy in … well, ever. Even when you and Justin were breaking up, you hardly talked about it, because you just didn’t care. Face it, Jo. Love or hate, whatever is going on with you and Will Price, there’s something there. And something is better than what you felt for Justin by the end, which was nothing.”
I dropped my head into my hands in shame. I didn’t want to admit that Bernadette was right. There was “something” between Will and me. I saw it every time I looked into his eyes. It struck me like a heat-seeking missile.
“Fine,” I said grudgingly. “I’ll go tonight. But we’re not staying long. And if anyone starts joking about this BuzzFeed thing—”
Bernadette held up her hand in the traditional claw-fingered Kitty Katz salute. “We leave. I swear. And I’m not kitten around.”
I winced. This was going to be a long night.
The Moment by Will Price
With her golden hair piled on top of her head, small diamond pendants dangling from her earlobes like icicles, Melanie reminded me of a princess from a storybook. Her white dress, covered all over with diamonds smaller than the ones at her ears, shimmered like the snow outside. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Whenever I looked at her, I felt my chest tighten with emotion … an emotion that only had one name: love.
Don’t ask me how, but I’d done it. In a few short moments, we’d walk down the aisle together, and she would be mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LITTLE BRIDGE BOOK FESTIVAL ITINERARY FOR:
JO WRIGHT
Saturday, January 4, 8:00 p.m.–11:00 p.m.
- Building Bridges Dinner -
Please join all festival attendees for a night of fine drinking and dining by the sea at Cracked on the Pier.
Joooooooo!”
Of course the first person we ran into when we got to the restaurant was Kellyjean. She was resplendent in a redand-gold kimono, her long blond hair flowing loose around her shoulders, her skin glowing from her day out on the water, despite her organic sunscreen.
“Wow, Kellyjean,” I said. “You look like a tequila sunrise threw up on you.”
“Oh, stop!” She gave me a playful but clearly delighted slap. I wasn’t certain Kellyjean knew what a tequila sunrise was. “Where’ve y’all been? You almost missed it!”
I was worried she meant that we’d missed a group reading aloud of the BuzzFeed article until Kellyjean, seeing our confused expressions, laughed and said, “Sillies! I’ll show you!”
Then she grabbed Bernadette and I each by the shoulder, and wordlessly pushed us not inside Cracked, but around the side of the restaurant, onto the pier. It was weirdly crowded there—not just the fenced-off deck with white-clothed tables reserved for diners at Cracked, but the rest of the pier, as well.
A huge crowd had gathered onto the weathered dock, everyone staring off into the west where the sun was slowly sinking into the sea with a blaze of color almost as vibrant as Kellyjean’s ensemble.
I glanced around suspiciously. “What’s happening?”
“Yeah,” Bernadette said. “What’s everyone looking at? Someone get mugged?”
“The sunset.”
The voice at my side was deep. I’d have recognized it anywhere even without the British accent, so I didn’t need to turn around to see that Will had come to stand beside me, but I did anyway.
Yep, there he was, looking tall and ridiculously handsome in a dark linen suit and another crisp white button-down shirt that showed off his deep tan. How many of these did the guy own? Hundreds, probably.
“What do you mean, the sunset?” I glanced back at the horizon. There were sailboats and yachts gliding around on glassy water in front of us, each as crowded with people as the dock we were standing on. “Are you trying to tell me that all of these people are out here just to watch the sun set?”
“Yes.” He had on the little half smile he seemed to wear habitually, except when he was frowning with anxiety—or displeasure—over something. So it was impossible to know if he’d seen the gossip about us online, unless of course he’d seen it and found it amusing. I didn’t think that Will was the kind of person who’d find that kind of thing amusing, however. “It’s a nightly tradition here in Little Bridge.”
“Watching the sunset?” I was baffled. “But the sun sets every night. Why on earth would anyone stand around and watch it?”
Will’s smile deepened as he glanced at me with what I could only call a pitying expression. “Because it’s beautiful. I know that might be a difficult concept for a New Yorker to understand, but some people do find nature soothing.”