Although I noted with cynical interest that they did not kiss hello, even though he’d been away long enough to grow a partial beard. He’d probably been warned by his media consultants not to kiss any of his romantic partners in front of fans. It would spoil their dreams that he was available.
“Come on,” Chloe said, tugging on his arm. “I’m double-parked. We’ve got to go.”
“Oh.” He threw me one last look. “Er, thanks.” To the girls, who were already raking Chloe curiously with their gazes, wondering who she was and why she was taking their darling Will away from them, he said, “Sorry, that’s got to be it for now. My ride’s here. I’ll see you at the festival, though, right?”
The girls cried, “Awwwww,” in disappointment, but quickly recovered and began waving enthusiastically at their literary idol. “Bye, Will!” “See you tomorrow!” “I’m going to buy tons of copies of The Moment for you to sign for all my friends!”
Then a very uncomfortable-looking Will was swept from the terminal by the sweet, lovely Chloe.
What was that about? Why was he feeling uncomfortable? He hadn’t felt uncomfortable bad-mouthing my writing. Why should he feel uncomfortable now, seeing me in an airport holding a whiteboard with his name on it?
“Was that him?”
I turned and saw a familiar figure at my side.
“Oh, hi, Garrett.” In addition to his fishing pole and ukulele, Garrett was carrying a giant duffel bag. Unlike me, he didn’t seem to suffer from lost-checked-bag syndrome. “Was that who?”
“Will Price. I didn’t think he’d be riding on the author bus with us.”
I turned to stare at him. “What do you mean us?”
He pointed to the name beneath Will’s on the whiteboard I was holding—the name I hadn’t noticed because I’d been too wrapped up in my loathing of Will Price. “That’s me.”
CHAPTER FOUR
His full name was Garrett Newcombe.
“I write and illustrate graphic novels for young adults,” he said. “Dark Magic School? You’ve probably never heard of it. Or me.”
Of course I’d heard of him. Dark Magic School was at the top of the children’s bestseller list every week. Gabriella, my super’s daughter, was bonkers for it. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognized Garrett from the author photo on the backs of her books.
In my own defense, however, the goatee had thrown me. It was new.
“Oh, sure,” I said, like I’d known all along who he was. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same. Oh, hold on. You’ve got a little something in your—” He reached out as if to touch my ear. I ducked instinctively since I’ve never been a fan of strange men touching me. But it was too late.
“Ah, got it.” Smiling, Garrett held up a shiny silver coin that he’d pretended to pull out of my ear.
Oh, yuck. He wrote books about magic and he was a magician? No, thank you. I may have written books about talking cats, but that didn’t mean I believed in, much less liked, magic. Cats actually can communicate. My own, Miss Kitty, tells me exactly what she wants on a regular basis, quite vocally, usually at seven in the morning.
Magic, however much we might want to believe in it, is completely made up. Miracles don’t happen. People get sick and often die, and the only thing that can stop that is science. Look at what had happened to my mom.
But since I was going to be stuck with this guy for the weekend, I forced a smile. “Ha-ha.”
“Here.” He shoved the coin at me. “You can keep it.”
“No, thanks.”
“No, really. It’s a Dark Magic School number eleven commemorative guild piece.”
“That’s okay. Save it for one of your fans.”
“Oh, I shipped two thousand ahead to the hotel to give out to the fans. Really, you can have it.”
“Great.” Reluctantly, I pocketed the “guild piece.” I could give it to Gabriella, anyway. She’d love it.
“So why are you holding that?” He pointed at the white-board.
“Oh, the librarian from the festival had to run to the bathroom.” I made a hand motion to illustrate a swollen belly and mouthed the word pregnant. “I said I’d fill in for her.”
“Oh, that’s so nice of you. Really great.” Garrett was gushing like I’d single-handedly saved a child from drowning. “So what’s the deal with Will Price taking off like that with that girl? Is he too good for the author bus or something?”
I shrugged. “He lives here. She came to pick him up.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know Will Price had a girlfriend. Everyone always talks about how he’s a commitment-phobe or something. She looked kinda young.”
“Maybe she’s his sister.” Of course I didn’t believe she was his sister. Why was I coming to his defense? The man was my nemesis.
Garrett laughed. It wasn’t a very pleasant laugh. “None of my sisters ever greeted me like that at the airport. Hey, didn’t I hear about some big dustup between you two a while ago?”
“Between Will Price and me? I don’t know.” I did not want to get into what had happened between Will Price and me. Not in the middle of the world’s tiniest airport with a bestselling magician slash graphic novelist, anyway. I looked around for Molly. What was taking her so long? “Did you?”
“Yeah, I did. Wait—I remember now.” Garrett looked at me and snapped his fingers. “Somebody plagiarized the two of you. That’s it. It was all over the news.”
I took a deep breath. Great. “Yes. Nicole Woods.”
“That’s right!” Garrett actually slapped his knee, he was enjoying himself so much. “Oh my God, that was huge, a bestselling author like her caught plagiarizing? But it was also kind of hilarious, since you and Will couldn’t write more different books.”
“Hilarious. Yeah.” Hurry up, Molly!
“And didn’t Price say something about that? Something not too flattering—like if Woods was going to copy from somebody, at least she could have chosen to copy from somebody who actually writes good books?”
I cut him off before he could say it. “Yes, that’s right. Wow, you have a good memory.” What was wrong with this guy? Why was he bringing up something he had to know had been a pretty unpleasant time for me?
But that was the thing about writers—not all of them, but quite a few. They spent all their time behind computer screens, and very little engaging with actual human beings, which meant that they had no idea how to interact with them. Case in point, Justin, my ex. And now, apparently, Garrett Newcombe.
“But fortunately they destroyed all the copies of Nicole’s book,” I went on brightly. “And she got the help she needed for the addiction that she said caused her to resort to plagiarism in the first place.” Sure. Sure, Nicole. Sleeping pills. That’s why you had to steal large chunks of my hard work from me. I took sleeping pills for a while after my mom died, and I managed never to steal anything from anyone. So I’m not sure that excuse of yours holds up. “So it’s all water under the bridge now.”