Stargazing (The Walker Family Book 2) (5 page)

Kent smiled as a woman in a large hat shook his hand enthusiastically. “You have such a way with words,” she said again. “I don’t know how you come up with all those stories. You have sixteen books and they are all so different,” she added as if he didn’t know the statistics.

“Thank you. I try very hard to keep the reader engaged by coming up with new material.”

The woman’s husband was tugging on her to pull her away.

Lydia moved in before the woman in the red dress started toward him. “Can I get you anything?”

“I could use a glass of water. Maybe with a slice of lemon in it, if you don’t mind. I knew better than to have lemonade before I speak. My throat is a little scratchy.”

“Of course. I’m sorry. I should have thought of that before I brought it out.”

He certainly didn’t mean to offend. “Oh, it’s okay. It was some of the best lemonade I’ve ever tasted. Homemade?”

Her smile softened. “That’s how Susan works.” She moved in closer. “Woman in red dress who is trying to get over to you is Mrs. Talbot. Widowed three times and thinks she’s in her thirties.”

He looked toward the woman who was clearly deep into her seventies.

“Does she really think that?”

Lydia shrugged. “Look at her shoes and her lipstick.”

He glanced again. High heels at seventy. That was a risky move, he thought. His own mother was only inching into her sixties and didn’t wear shoes that high anymore.

Lydia touched his arm as she left him and Mrs. Talbot moved in. Within seconds the woman was rambling on and moving closer and closer to him.

He hoped Lydia hurried back with that water.

“Mrs. Talbot moved in for the kill,” Lydia said as she walked into the kitchen. “I need to take him some water. I gave him lemonade and now his throat is dry.”

“Is he complaining?” Bethany barked.

“No. I think that’s the problem. He wouldn’t have. In fact, he loved it, Susan.”

Susan smiled. “I’m glad.”

Lydia filled the glass with ice and cold water from the pitcher kept in the refrigerator. She garnished it with a lemon wedge and handed it to Bethany.

“You deliver it. I think he wants to meet you.”

“Me?” Bethany took the glass and stared at Lydia. “Why?”

“It seems as though our handsome author is a lover of the B-movie horror flicks.”

Bethany growled. “They weren’t all B-movies.”

Lydia laughed. “I didn’t mean it disrespectfully. He got excited when I told him you were coming.”

“Why would you tell him?”

Lydia shrugged. “Your name came up when I was telling him about the room. I told him you helped me design it.

Bethany decided she was in sleep-deprived hell as she took the glass of water out to the Garden Room.

She didn’t have to scan the growing crowd too hard to find him.

Mrs. Talbot was making her move on him. She’d moved in so close that Kent Black was nearly pushed up against a wall.

That’s when she knew he’d seen her. His eyes widened and she could almost hear his plea for help. Perhaps she’d let him sit there a moment longer, but he took it upon himself to get out of the situation.

“Bethany?” he called as if they were old friends.

She felt the blood drain from her head. She didn’t know him did she?

He moved quickly around Mrs. Talbot and straight to her. “Hi, sorry, had to get away from her. I’m Kent. I know you’re Bethany. I’m a big fan. Not a stalker kind of person at all, just a big fan. I’m thankful for the water. That is for me, right?” She nodded and handed him the glass. “Thanks,” he said as he took the glass and began drinking. “She’s weird, that woman,” he whispered. “Thanks for saving me.”

“Do I know you?” she asked softly.

Kent took her arm and led her to the table at the front of the room. It was obviously a tactic to keep people from coming up to him, by keeping her close.

“No. Sorry.” He set his water on the table and held his hand out to shake hers. “Formal intro now. Kent Black.”

“Bethany Waterbury.”

“I really like your work. I saw you the other day. I didn’t know it was you, but I saw you.”

She narrowed her eyes on him. “You saw me?”

“You were having coffee with some man. I think he was your brother.”

“How do you know that?”

His cheeks flushed and he wiped his hand over his forehead. “Oh, well, the coffee shop was full. I saw you looking for a table. I was going to invite you to sit with me. You sat with some man and then when you left, you smiled at me, and then said something to him about having lunch with Dad.”

God, he was a crazy mess too, this man who kept her up all night.

“You were watching me?”

“No. I was working. I observe everything and everyone when I’m working.”

She thought about meeting Jake at the coffee shop. It was packed. They’d sat by the window. She’d left and…

“You were at the table by the door.”

His eyes widened even more. “Yes.”

“I do remember seeing you.”

He was fighting some wicked smile, or his face was going through some transformation.

“You remembered me?”

“I do now,” she tried to be stern in her delivery. “I think they’re going to be ready for you to speak soon. It looks like everyone has filtered in.”

“Right. Where are you sitting?”

She looked down at her apron. “I’m not.”

“Oh, right. You’re working with Susan.”

“You’re very good with names.”

He sipped his water and she could see a bead of sweat form on his brow. “It’s a gift. This speaking thing, it still takes some work.”

“You don’t like to speak in front of adoring fans?”

He chuckled at that. “Adoring? That’s nice. I get nervous. Happens all the time. I’ll start with my voice cracking and I’ll make some joke about a frog in there. They all laugh. I have a mini heart attack and then I go on.”

She couldn’t help but ease at that. “I hate first takes. Perhaps that’s some of the reason I don’t have an acting job,” she decided as she said it. “But I always freeze up on first takes.”

There was a spark that lit in his eye when she said that. “You?”

“Why not me? You just said you did too. Barbra Streisand, I think it was her, said she had horrible stage fright too. Still does.”

“I think I’ve heard that.”

She’d eased around him and she certainly hadn’t meant to. She’d wanted to give him words of anger for keeping her up all night. He was a little freaky with knowing too much too. So to ease up around him at all was not good, but she just couldn’t help herself.

“You’ll do great,” she said making sure her smile reached her eyes. “It was a great book. I see why everyone is here.”

She turned to leave when he reached for her arm.

“You read it? You read my book?”

“You’ve been meeting people all day that did that. Why are you so surprised?”

His hands tensed and he released her arm and flexed his fingers.

“Do you believe in fate at all?”

“No.”

The expression on his face quickly turned to one of sadness. “Oh. That’s too bad. I do.”

“That’s great,” she said and turned to walk away again, only to have him reach for her, again.

“Can I show you something?”

“Mr. Black, now probably isn’t the time.”

He shook his head. “Nothing bad. Something I wrote that day in the coffee shop. I want to show you.”

Bethany could almost hear Susan’s voice in the back of her head calling for her, wondering where she was.

“Fine. But I need to get back to work.”

She caught sight of Lydia coming toward them. This was her exit.

“I think we’re about ready,” Lydia smiled as she spoke. “Bethany, Susan is looking for you.”

“I thought she might be.” She gave Kent one last forced smile and hurried away to the kitchen.

Susan was loading up her tray to serve the first table their lunch. “I thought you ditched me. What’s wrong with you today?”

“I told you. I was up all night. And then he caught me out there and wouldn’t let me go. I know he was trying to get away from Mrs. Talbot, but…”

“You’re rambling. Go get those plates out there.”

“Right. Sorry.” She picked up the tray and walked out to serve the first table just as Lydia turned the mic over to Kent.

Bethany set the first two plates on the table and looked up to the podium.

Their eyes locked and she could suddenly feel his pain.

A part of her had wanted him to stumble and make the joke about the frog. But then again, she wouldn’t have wished that for herself.

Graciously, she gave him an encouraging smile, which must have hit him like a bolt of light to the chest. She actually saw him sway as he returned the gesture with a long blink, which she accepted as a thank you.

She continued on with her service as he started his presentation, without any mention of the frog.

Chapter Six

Kent Black had been talking and taking questions for over an hour and the book-loving crowd seemed to love him.

Susan and Bethany both leaned against the doorjamb watching him.

“He’s eloquent,” Susan said on a sigh.

“I suppose.”

“Not as nice in person? You talked to him for a long time.”

“He talked to me,” she whispered. “He rambles.”

“He’d never.”

Bethany only shrugged as Lydia walked toward them.

“This is going so much better than I could have ever imagined.”

“I suppose we should start cleaning up,” Susan said.

“When he starts to sign, I think,” Lydia added. “They’re enthralled.”

They all turned when another guest walked out into the garden and stood against the wall.

“What in the hell is he doing here?” Lydia asked as she noticed Officer Smyth.

“Don’t get all heated,” Bethany said standing up straight. “I told him to come.”

“You talked to him? Why? Why would you do that?”

“He came by the house. I can’t hate him entirely. He saved me.”

“You saved yourself. He just had the power to arrest the ass who hurt you.”

“Either way. He wanted a signed book and I told him to just stop by. Look,” she said as she pointed. “He already has the book. He’ll be in and out.”

Lydia growled. “If he even so much as talks to me…”

“I told him not to ask you out.”

Lydia winced. “I hate him.”

“I know you do.”

Lydia walked off as Kent finished his talk.

“You might owe her for that one,” Susan said standing up and retrieving a tray as the crowd began to move about. “Maybe a girls’ night out.”

“Just for telling an officer of the law to drop by and get a book signed?”

Bethany watched as Kent sat at the table in the front of the garden, books piled high around him, and a line forming. Lydia moved to Smyth and escorted him to the front of the line.

Kent stood and shook his hand. Bethany had never seen Smyth smile a genuine smile. Maybe he did have some kind of heart in there.

Kent signed his book and Smyth turned to leave. He caught sight of her watching, gave her a wave of gratitude, and left.

Lydia moved back to her. “Fine. Done and done.”

“Wasn’t so bad was it? Look how happy he was.”

“Don’t care,” she huffed and ran her hands down over her skirt. “Listen, I have to supervise. Do you think you could sit up there with him and help?”

“Me?” Bethany placed her hand on her chest. “I have a job to do.”

“Right. He just needs books opened. Anyone who preordered or paid at the door has a slip.”

Susan walked up behind her. “Go. You’re too preoccupied today to be of much help.”

Bethany let out a hurtful moan. “I’m here.”

Susan’s smile said more, though. “Go. Mingle a bit.”

“Why? So someone can make a comment about me being Byron Walker’s daughter and what a shame that is? Or they’re sorry to hear about what happened to us and what a loser Douglas Brant is?”

“Or maybe you could just smile and help a nice guy out,” Susan said with a gentle shove.

Kent worked the group as they came along. Each one had something to say about the book. Usually it was gracious praise, but there was always one in the crowd that wanted to know what he was thinking when he wrote a certain part.

Each question was met with a genuine smile. Everyone was a critic, but none as bad as he was on himself.

Bethany was walking toward the table now, no doubt working. However, she’d pulled out a chair.

“I’ve been sent to help you,” she said as she sat down next to him and picked up a book from the pile.

He didn’t have words. Just having her that close had rendered him nearly speechless. All he could do was nod and talk to the next person waving a book at him.

The next woman in line handed him a slip that said she’d purchased a book from the club. He turned to reach for one as Bethany turned to hand it to him. Their fingers grazed and there was a sudden spike in his blood pressure.

“Is that the right page?” Bethany asked, but he didn’t even understand the question. “Is that the page you want them open to?”

He looked down at the title page of the book. “Oh, yes. Thank you.”

She let go of the book and reached for another.

The woman began to talk to him and asked for a photo. He was on auto pilot now, which was good, since he’d suddenly gone numb in the brain.

This wasn’t just being star struck with some Hollywood starlet either. He’d met his share of Hollywood elite. Four of his books had been made into movies. He had had a cameo in one of them, though once it had been cut to pieces, all anyone could see was the top of his head in a spaceship.

“Would you like me to take the picture?” Bethany asked as the woman contorted her body to take a selfie, which no doubt would give him a double chin and be posted on Facebook in the next ten minutes.

“Oh, that would be lovely,” the woman said with a smile. “Would you mind if I took one with you too? You’re Bethany Waterbury, aren’t you? I’m a big fan of yours too. You’re just as beautiful in person as you are in the movies. Oh, and your mother was beautiful too. I’m sorry to hear of her passing.” The woman handed the camera to Bethany. “I was hoping you’d be here. I heard you were working for the caterer that is marrying the Walker boy. He’s an odd one. Always so quiet.”