Muriel murmured her thanks and added, “I’m a big Vanessa Valentine fan.”
“Who isn’t?” one of the women in the crowd called out, and several fans giggled.
“Before Vanessa reads from her new book, we’re going to start by giving you all a chance to ask her some questions,” Vance said.
A dozen hands shot up, and he pointed to a pimply-faced teenage girl in the front row. Jonathan had seen her earlier and felt sorry for her. In addition to the zit issue, she was overweight. It wasn’t hard to imagine what life at school was like for her. Books were a world she could escape to, where she could enjoy vicarious pleasure as she watched the heroine work out her problems and come out on top. He hoped the girl would come out on top in her own life.
“Where do you get your ideas?” the girl asked.
“You know, they can come from anywhere. One place I love to find inspiration is in art museums. Paintings, especially traditional paintings, tell a story. Sometimes I’ll see a woman in a painting and it’s as if she’s saying, ‘Tell my story, Vanessa.’”
Pretty impressive, thought Jonathan.
“How did you get started?” the girl asked in a small voice.
“By writing all the time. If you work hard, you can make your dreams come true.”
The girl beamed at Vanessa, and with her smile her whole face lit up. There was a pretty girl in there. Jonathan hoped she’d find someone who could really see her.
Another woman asked, “How long does it take you to write a book?”
“That depends,” Vanessa said. “Each book is different.”
The answer seemed a little vague to Jonathan, but the crowd was satisfied.
“How do you write?” another woman asked. “At a computer?”
“Oh, not at first. I have a lovely garden, and in the summer I like to sit outside on my patio with a glass of lemonade and write on a tablet. In winter, I sit in my sunroom with a vanilla candle burning and Adele playing in the background.”
“What do you drink then?” someone called.
“Tea. Lady Grey.”
Jonathan wasn’t sure what tea had to do with writing, but the women all nodded like members of an exclusive club who knew exactly what she was talking about.
Vance ended the chitchat. “I know you all want to hear Vanessa read, and we have to save time for her to sign your books. So, Vanessa, are you ready?”
“Of course.” She slipped behind the podium, opened her book and began to read.
The women—and Jonathan—listened, spellbound. Who’d have thought tea and candles could inspire all that?
“‘Jean Pierre picked up his sword. The old wound hadn’t healed, but he couldn’t wait for that. If he did, it would be too late to save Lily Auguste. Her life was infinitely more precious than his. His only regret was that now he would most likely die without ever having kissed her. He would die before he had ever really lived.’” Vanessa stopped there and shut the book.
There was a moment of awed silence, and then the room exploded in applause. And no one was clapping harder than Jonathan. Man, that was good stuff.
Vance was back in control. “All right, ladies, if you’ll form a line to my left, Vanessa will sign now.”
Again, Jonathan marveled at how different Vance was in this environment. Every bit of snark had been buried under a veneer of charm.
The women surged forward but Jonathan stayed at the back of the bookstore, happy to let her other fans go ahead of him. He didn’t need eavesdroppers.
Vance joined him. “You still here?”
“Yep.” He held up the books. “I’m gonna get all these personalized. By the way, why didn’t you tell us you knew her?” Jonathan added accusingly.
“What, you want a date?”
“I want to meet her. I’m thinking she might have some good advice.”
Vance looked heavenward and shook his head. “She writes fiction. Remember? It’s all made up. She’s not Dear Abby.”
“Well, I still want to meet her.”
“Suit yourself,” Vance said again, and left him to go ring up sales.
The line moved slowly. Everyone wanted to meet Vanessa.
Pat, Muriel and Dot, who had been near the front of the line, were now leaving the party. They stopped next to where Jonathan stood.
“Jonathan, I didn’t know you read Vanessa Valentine novels,” Pat greeted him.
“He’s reading them for the hot sex,” Dot teased. “God knows that’s why I read them.”
As usual, Dot had succeeded in making him blush. “I’m getting a book for my sister. And...the others are for her friends,” he announced on a burst of inspiration.
“That’s sweet of you,” Pat said. “Juliet was really disappointed to miss out.”
His sister had known about this? Sheesh. She could have told him.
“It’s too bad she got sick at the last minute,” Muriel remarked.
“I guess she didn’t need me to get a book for her, then,” Dot said.
“If we’d known you were coming you could have ridden over with us,” Muriel told Jonathan.
“Jonathan wouldn’t want to be trapped in a car listening to three women talk about romance novels,” Dot said. “Anyway, you’d have been stuck here. We’re spending the night in town, staying at the Sorrento and then doing the Pike Place Market tomorrow.”
The middle-aged woman he’d been sitting next to had been eavesdropping shamelessly and now joined the conversation. “Oh, I love the market. I always come home with one of those beautiful flower bouquets.”
And so the conversation continued, with two more women joining in. Jonathan felt a little like he was in the middle of a cluster of rapidly multiplying cells, talking cells that made it hard to concentrate on what he wanted to say to Vanessa.
Dot and company finally left and Jonathan breathed a little easier. They’d stood talking for so long, he’d begun to worry that maybe they’d wind up accompanying him right to where Vanessa sat and listening in on their conversation.
Speaking of listening in... He turned to the middle-aged woman behind him. “Why don’t you go ahead of me.”
“Oh, no. I don’t mind waiting my turn.”
He could see her now, jumping into the conversation. You want help with your love life? How interesting! “No, it’s okay,” he said, motioning her forward. Far away. Then he moved to the very end of the line.
It was an hour before everyone else had finished talking to Vanessa and Jonathan finally got his turn. She was wearing a wedding ring and a fat diamond. Jonathan tried to tell himself that because she was married, she was less intimidating. It didn’t work.
“That’s quite a pile of books,” she said. “Are you doing your Christmas shopping?”
“No.” Impressive, Jonathan. He pushed his glasses up his nose. “One’s for my sister.” He set the book on the table. “Can you sign it to Juliet?”
“Sure.”
She personalized it and he put another book in front of her. “And for Anna.”
She signed that one and looked up expectantly.
He laid down two more. “And for Adam and Kyle. They’re my friends.”
She smiled. “Your friends have good taste in books.”
“We all play poker. With Vance,” he added, nodding to where Vance stood at the register, along with the younger woman, bagging a book for one of the last customers.
“So you’re one of Vance’s buddies.”
Jonathan nodded again. “We all read your books. We’re, um...” Oh, boy. This was going to sound so stupid. “We’re...” He scratched the back of his head. “They make good textbooks.”
“Textbooks,” she repeated, and held out her hand for the last copy.
Jonathan passed it over. “Can you sign this one to me?”
“And you are...?”
“Oh, uh, Jonathan.” The village idiot. His face burned.
“So, Jonathan, tell me more about how my novels make good textbooks.”
<
br /> “Well, they’re all about, uh, love. And getting it right. And my friends and I—we need to get it right.”
“I see.” She was serious now, and the teasing light was gone from her eyes.
Jonathan cleared his throat. “I need an expert.”
“I’m not exactly an expert.”
“When it comes to a guy being a hero, you are. Your men always know what to say and do.”
Now she looked uncomfortable.
“Not at first, maybe,” he hurried on. “But they figure things out. I need help figuring things out. So does my pal Kyle. Bernardo, well, he’s got it together, but he’d love to meet you, anyway. And Adam, he’s really in a mess. His wife is so mad at him she kicked him out. But they’re gonna have their first kid. He’s got to get his act together.”
“Sounds like it,” she agreed.
Good. She saw the need. Now he had to put it all on the line and ask. “I read on your website that you live here in Seattle, and I was hoping maybe you’d be willing to come to Icicle Falls and meet the guys, let them pick your brain. It’s a great town. We’d pay for your lodging. And feed you.”
“What the hell are you doing?” demanded a gruff voice at his elbow.
Jonathan turned to see Vance scowling at him. The burn on his face got hotter. “I’m just seeing if Vanessa would like to meet the guys.”
“Jon, she’s a busy woman. She has other appearances. Deadlines.”
Of course she did. He’d been stupid to think a big-name author would have time to come all the way to Icicle Falls and act as a personal love coach to him and his friends.
“When?”
Jonathan blinked. “What?”
“When?” Vanessa repeated.
“Vanessa, you don’t have time for this,” Vance told her.
“Maybe I do. For your friends,” she added, sounding more like his mother than his guest author. “Anyway, Pat from Mountain Escape Books was asking me earlier if I’d like to come up and do a book signing. That would be fun. So, when were you thinking?” She looked expectantly at Jonathan.
“Uh, Friday night?”
She nodded. “Absolutely. It so happens that I’m free this weekend. You can show me around town on Friday and I can meet your friends. Then I’ll sign books at the store on Saturday.” She turned to Vance. “I think it’s high time some of your friends met Vanessa Valentine, Vance. Don’t you?”
Vance didn’t look at all happy to share. “Just remember what I told you,” he cautioned Jonathan. “She’s not Dear Abby.”
No. She was even better.
He called Kyle as he walked to his car. “I just scored big-time.”
“Yeah?” Kyle sounded surprised. “With who?”
“Vanessa Valentine.”
“What!”
“I just met Vanessa Valentine.”
“And she slept with you?” Kyle asked, incredulous.
“No, you dork. I didn’t score that way. I asked her to come and meet with us on Friday and...she’s coming.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, man, that rocks.”
“We’re gonna have to put her up somewhere, though. Can you chip in?”
“Where?” Kyle asked suspiciously.
“I’m thinking Icicle Creek Lodge.”
“That’s kind of pricey.”
“She’s a big-name author. I’ve got to put her someplace nice. And the lodge is the nicest place in town.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Count me in,” Kyle said.
“Me, too,” Bernardo agreed when Jonathan called him. “I’m going to have her sign every book of hers we own. Anna will be thrilled.”
“You’re shittin’ me,” Adam said when Jonathan got home and shared his big news.
“Nope. She’s coming.” Jonathan pulled a beer from the fridge and plopped down on the couch. “This is gonna be great.”
The only one who didn’t think it was going to be great was Vance. “You guys are a bunch of clucks,” he said when Jonathan called to see if wanted to throw in some bucks toward her lodging and entertainment.
Maybe, but they were an excited bunch of clucks. The rest of the week, when he wasn’t busy with customers, Jonathan spent his free time cleaning. Adam pitched in, too, ordering flowers from Lupine Floral and, on Friday, picking up fancy cream puffs from Gingerbread Haus. Bernardo and Kyle contributed champagne and chocolate and a scented candle because, according to Kyle, Jonathan’s place smelled like dog.
Vanessa arrived in town around noon on Friday and, squired by Vance, met Jonathan for lunch at Schwangau. He was having lunch with Vanessa Valentine. He could hardly believe it.
“You know, this is one of my favorite restaurants,” she confessed as they were seated in at a corner table.
“You’ve been here before?” Jonathan asked, surprised.
“A couple of times, when I’ve come up to see my brother.”
“You have a brother who lives here?” Who the heck was her brother?
“Oh, yes. He doesn’t invite me here very often, which is too bad since I love the shops.”
“He probably realizes how busy you are,” Vance said.
“Family is important, though. You know that, Vance.”
“Of course,” he said, and looked distinctly uncomfortable.
“I bet you didn’t know Vance has a daughter,” Vanessa said to Jonathan.
“Yeah, I heard.” Jonathan didn’t normally get nosy but he couldn’t help asking, “Does she live anywhere around here?”
“Over in Seattle. She’s a good kid,” Vance said.
“Yes, she is. And Vance is a good father.”
Jonathan noticed the way Vanessa smiled at Vance when she said that. There was some emotion packed into that smile. Did Vance have something going with this woman? Maybe they were just friends. Close friends.
“That’s enough about me,” Vance said firmly. “Why don’t you tell Jonathan about the new book you’re working on.”
“Well, I don’t know too much about it yet. I’m still getting to know my characters.”
“I guess it takes a while,” Jonathan said.
“It can. It’s not easy being a writer.” She flashed Vance a smile. “People don’t always understand you.” Now she sobered. “And a lot of writers have a tendency to bury themselves in their work and hide from life.”
Vanessa didn’t strike Jonathan as the type of person to hide from life and he said so.
“You’d be surprised,” she said.
Vance picked up his menu. “So, what looks good? I think I’ll have the sauerbraten.”
The rest of lunch was taken up with conversation, mostly Vanessa talking about the different cities she’d visited on her book tours and how glad she was to have some time at home with her husband and her cats.
But then it got personal. She wanted to know how Jonathan had discovered her and what, specifically, he’d learned from reading her books.
“I’ve made a list,” he confessed, “but I’m not sure how to follow it.”
Vance sighed loudly. “This stuff between men and women, you can’t learn it from a book. You’ve got to get out there and live it.”
“And keep living it,” Vanessa said, looking pointedly at Vance.
He shook his head. “I’m too old for that.”
“You’re never too old for love,” she insisted. “And it’s never too late to learn,” she said to Jonathan. “But I don’t know if I’m the one to teach you.”
She wasn’t going to back out, was she? “No, you are. You’re the closest thing to an expert we’ve got.”
She leaned back in her seat and studied him. “You poor, deluded man.”
“So, who’s for dessert?” Vance asked.
After lunch, they visited Pat at Mountain Escape Books. Then Vanessa wanted to shop. “I’d love to go in that cute little shop with all the nutcrackers in the window,” she said. “Oh, and the one with the imported lace.”
&
nbsp; Jonathan wasn’t interested in nutcrackers or imported lace. And he wasn’t wild about running into Tina, which they were bound to do since the lace shop was hers, but he valiantly said, “Sure.”
“I can take her if you need to work,” Vance offered, clearly anxious to be rid of Jonathan.
Now Jonathan knew what was going on. Vanessa was Vance’s Lissa. She considered him a good friend; he wanted it to be more. But it couldn’t be. Vanessa was married.
And she obviously needed someone along to make sure Vance behaved himself. “I don’t have anything planned,” Jonathan said.
Vance shrugged. “Fine.”
So the three of them went to the cute little shop with all the nutcrackers, where Vanessa bought several. “I always like to shop ahead for Christmas,” she explained.
Then they went to the lace shop, where Tina fawned all over Vanessa and looked frankly shocked to see that she was with Jonathan. “Jonathan, you never told me you knew Vanessa Valentine.”
As if he and Tina were good buds and he’d simply forgotten to mention it. He didn’t even try to respond to that.
He didn’t need to. Vanessa linked her arm through his. “Jonathan and I are friends. Aren’t we, Jonathan?”
They were? “Uh, yeah.”
Once outside the shop she said, “Don’t tell me, let me guess. That woman thinks she’s better than you.”
Jonathan blinked. “Well. Yeah.”
Vanessa wagged a finger at him. “Don’t ever let women like that intimidate you.”
His first advice from Vanessa Valentine. He wasn’t sure he could follow it, but he appreciated it.
“I could have told him that,” Vance muttered.
“But I bet you didn’t,” she retorted.
Vance just kept walking.
Vanessa dragged them from shop to shop for two more hours. They looked at everything from Christmas ornaments to funny hats. They visited Gingerbread Haus and Jonathan bought her one of Cass Wilkes’s popular gingerbread boys. Then it was off for more shopping. Jonathan’s feet were beginning to hurt. How did women have the stamina for all that shopping?
By five o’clock shops were starting to close. “I’ll take you over to the lodge,” Vance said to Vanessa.
What She Wants Page 18