Chapter 13
WAVERLY
Man, that guy was hot. I mean, there were attractive men and then there were those guys, and Aldric beat them all.
If I had to guess, I’d say he’s six foot four inches tall, maybe more.
Lean build but with broad shoulders, like a swimmer.
His neat, stylish black and silver hair begged to be messed up.
I could think of some ways I’d tousle it.
And those eyes—I couldn’t decide if they were gray or green or maybe both. Either way, they were gorgeous.
All in all, Aldric Wrest was the kind of attractive man that could cause a grown woman to feel nervous and giggle. Which I did. He was so good looking that he was going in a book, no doubt about it. And I probably wouldn’t even kill him off. He’s that good looking.
Sitting at the desk in my room, I took a couple of deep breaths and pulled out my computer.
When I first came to research a new town, I had a system.
Most people didn’t understand this about me, but I did.
Every new town got the same treatment—first impressions of the immediate feel of the place.
My initial thoughts, including three adjectives I would use to describe the look.
I put myself into the role of my readers.
Could I, as the author, do a town like this justice on the page and capture the reader’s attention through my fictitious town—enough to make them want to visit the inspiration?
I did all of this via voice recording on my trusty handheld recorder I lovingly call Gerald.
He and I had been through a lot together.
But up until this point, I’d never, ever failed my system.
That is, until I stood on the dock, facing Aldric.
I forgot all about what I should be doing and replaced it with thoughts of what I wanted to do.
What the hell was wrong with me?
And to top it all off, I lied to him, and I was desperately hoping he couldn’t tell.
I didn’t have to do any edits last night.
I always finish a project before I look for new inspiration.
Aldric was just a lot, and standing next to him was even more.
I guess when he asked if I wanted to start my tour early, I panicked.
Breathing was needed—breathing and chastising myself for abandoning my system just because some attractive man was standing in the doorway of my hotel room.
Then reality sank in. He wouldn’t even come in.
Wouldn’t cross the threshold. Stood in that doorway like it was a boundary he’d drawn for himself and had no intention of crossing.
I told myself it was professionalism—small town, Chamber director, strange woman’s hotel room, optics and all that.
But the sensible explanation lasted about thirty seconds before my brain helpfully supplied the more obvious one: he just didn’t find me attractive.
Which led to a large pizza and ice cream delivery I’m not proud of.
My phone ringing woke me from a restless night’s sleep. I opened one eye and looked at the glowing screen and saw it was four thirty in the blessed a.m. Only one person got away with calling me this early.
“It’s four thirty, Janice.” My publisher was an early, early morning riser so she could get her workout done before going to the office.
“I’m aware of that,” I could tell by her tone she was in a mood. “I’m also aware that you did not call, text, send smoke signals—nothing—to tell me you made it.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” I ran my hand over my face. “I forgot.”
“You forgot? Were you injured? Hit your head? YOU NEVER forget.” Janice’s voice turned from annoyance to concern. “Waverly, are you all right?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I promise. The ferry ride was choppy so I was a bit nauseated when I arrived.” I lied for the second time in twenty-four hours.
“Waverly.” One of Janice’s many talents was knowing when someone was lying to her. “Nausea doesn’t prevent you from texting. Would you like to try again?”
“Fine.” I hated that she had the ability to know when I was lying. “I got here and this man from the Chamber met me and I just forgot. That’s all.”
“A man? You never mention men.” Janice’s voice was now reaching panic mode. “Is this a ‘I forgot like he slipped something in your drink’ you forgot? Or a ‘we had passionate sex and I forgot’? You know what, I’m coming up there.”
That statement caused me to sit up in bed. “No, Janice, I don’t need you to come up here. Nothing happened. And I mean nothing.”
“I don’t know that I’m buying that.”
I blew out a breath. “He’s incredibly good looking and I got a little sidetracked by that. Nothing else—no drink spiking, no sex.”
“Oh, well, the sex part is a pity. Just how good looking is he?”
“Very. Like ‘the leading man in a movie’ good looking.” I realized I was smiling, which I immediately stopped.
“He sounds yummy. Are you seeing him today?” It amazed me how quickly Janice’s moods could change in a single call.
“Yes, he’s taking me on a tour of the town.”
“You know, you’ve never, ever, mentioned a man before. I want a picture.”
“What?” I shook my head. “No.”
“You can be sneaky. Have him pose with you and take a selfie.”
“You know me better than that.”
“I do,” Janice said. “Odd, isn’t it, that someone so good at writing suspense and thrillers is so bad at being sneaky.”
“Goodbye, Janice.” I said it knowing full well I wouldn’t hang up on her.
“Man or not, I want regular check-ins.” Just like that, Janice switched from teasing to publisher.
“You’re only worried about me because I’m your most popular author,” I joked.
“Waverly! Hush your mouth, you know better.”
“Good night, Janice.”
“Good morning, Waverly. Send a picture, or I’ll come up there. I do like New England in the fall.” Janice hung up.
I rolled to my side and put the phone back on the nightstand.
“Great, I might as well get up because now I have to use the bathroom,” I announced to my empty room. “Damn it, Janice. I hope you’re happy.”
By nine o’clock, I’d already showered, had breakfast, and fallen asleep in the desk chair. Thank goodness I’d set an alarm so I wasn’t late meeting Aldric in the lobby.
“Good morning,” he said in a deeper voice than I remembered. “I like your outfit.”
“Why, thank you.” I spun around in my dark green overalls over a burnt-orange long-sleeved shirt, with mustard-colored high-top sneakers completing the look.
“It’s very colorful.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you. And you look very dapper.” Aldric was dressed in black pants, a long-sleeved burgundy button-up, and a black cardigan.
“Thank you. I didn’t feel a suit was needed today.”
“No suit needed. Today is about fun.”
Aldric smiled a heart-stopping smile that made my knees feel weak.
Goodness!
“I thought we could start with the Chamber. I have a detailed map of the town as well as several informational brochures and flyers.”
I nodded. “Sounds great.”
The Town Hall was a proper New England building—white clapboard, black shutters, the kind of bones that suggested it had been built by people who intended for it to still be standing hundreds of years later and had been proven absolutely right.
The Chamber of Commerce occupied a corner office on the ground floor.
“You can leave some of your things here if you’d like,” he said. “No point carrying everything around town.”
“Oh—yes, actually, thank you.” I swung my backpack off and started pulling things out. Spare notebook. Two backup pens. I set Gerald carefully on the corner of his desk.
“A mini recorder. How efficient of you.”
“Thank you—that’s Gerald,” I said.
“Of course.” He said it with complete seriousness. I appreciated that.
“I should properly introduce you two, actually.” I picked Gerald back up and held him out.
“Aldric, this is Gerald the Fifth. He’s my traveling companion—you could even say, my writing partner.
I couldn’t do this without him. He keeps everything straight, captures ambient sound, listens to my notes, then regurgitates them when I need.
” I lowered Gerald slightly. “He’s invaluable. ”
Aldric looked at Gerald with the expression of a man recalibrating. “Do your pens have names too?”
“That’s silly—who names pens?” I tucked Gerald into my jacket pocket.
“Of course.” He paused. “And why is he Gerald the Fifth?”
“The first Gerald died,” I explained, meeting his eyes.
“The second also died. Different circumstances, equal tragedy. The third I lost outside Savannah, Georgia, and I searched for two days. I’ve made my peace with it.
At least, that’s what I tell myself. The fourth—well, that was a rough one.
He fell out of my coat pocket and I didn’t know.
I pulled out of the parking space and—” I paused.
“Between the car tires and the asphalt.” I blinked a couple of times. “Squished Gerald.”
The silence that followed was the specific kind that meant someone was either not sure what to say or trying very hard to maintain a straight face.
Aldric Wrest—who had, in my twelve hours of acquaintance, maintained the expression of a man who found the world interesting but not surprising—looked back at me and laughed. And all the laugh did was make him even more attractive.
“And now, Gerald the Fifth,” I said, patting my pocket, “is thriving.”
“I can see that.” He was still smiling.
A small chirping mew interrupted us and we both looked down.
An enormously large black cat had appeared from somewhere in the office and was now sitting approximately two feet away, looking at me with amber eyes that were doing something that wasn’t quite cat behavior.
“Oh,” I said. “Hello.”
The cat blinked. Once. Slowly.
“Your cat seems like more than what he is,” I said. “There’s something—” I leaned closer. “Huh. Something human about him.”
“He’s not my—” Aldric stopped. Something shifted in his expression. “Wait. What did you say?”
“Oh, ignore me. I often see things that others don’t.”
“He’s a cat,” Aldric said, in the tone of someone making a statement they felt should not require being made.
The cat looked at Aldric, then back at me. He walked forward, sat directly on my foot, then stretched up to paw at my knees.
I reached down and picked him up.
“Wait, he doesn’t—” Aldric stopped himself. “Huh. He’s never allowed anyone to pick him up before.”
I cuddled the hefty cat. “What’s his name?”
“Mr. McFluffinstuff,” Aldric said.
My head snapped up to see if he was kidding.
“Honestly?”
“Yes.” Another pause. “It’s the only thing the fool will answer to. Stupid old—”
“He’s not stupid.” I scratched under Mr. McFluffinstuff’s chin and was rewarded with a loud purr. “He’s amazing.” I looked up at Aldric, who was standing very still, watching the interaction as though he were analyzing every movement. “Aren’t you a cutie? Yes, you are.”
Mr. McFluffinstuff accepted this with the gravity it deserved.
I continued to pet him as he forcefully pushed his head against my chin.
“Stop that—you know that’s no way to treat a lady.” Aldric took the cat from me. “We’re going to have a talk,” he told Mr. McFluffinstuff, in a tone that suggested this talk had been threatened before and had never once produced results.
Mr. McFluffinstuff promptly raised his paw and smacked Aldric across the face. Then he jumped to the chair, then to the floor, where he turned and hissed at Aldric.
Unable to control it, I let a small giggle loose. I liked this cat enormously. And even more than that, I enjoyed the stress he caused Aldric.
“Shall we start on our tour?” Aldric motioned toward the door.