The Book Charmer

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The Book Charmer Page 11

by Karen Hawkins


  Grace’s throat tightened, and a deep flash of rage burned her throat. In some ways, she understood Daisy’s anger and knew that most of it was directed at her mom. To be honest, they all had reasons to be angry with Hannah, although no one more so than Daisy.

  The clock on the wall chimed the hour and Grace shot it an impatient look. With a sigh, she stood. Hannah might not have been able to live up to her responsibilities, but Grace could and would. She was more than capable. Now, to deal with this ridiculous festival.

  She collected her things, realizing with dark humor that she was late for a meeting she didn’t want to go to, where she was supposed to plan an event she didn’t want to attend, while making nice with people she didn’t want to know. People like Sarah Dove.

  Grace grimaced at her own grumpy thoughts. Sarah had stopped by the house several times since their conversation in front of town hall last week, and while Grace had been polite, she hadn’t encouraged the woman, either. As nice as Sarah seemed to be, she obviously wanted to be more than mere acquaintances. But right now, Grace had no time for anyone other than her own family. They were her one and only focus.

  The clock seemed to tick louder, and Grace yanked her thoughts from the darkness of her past, scooped up her coffee, and grabbed the fat folder from her desk. Muttering to herself about bosses who didn’t do any work, she fixed the door sign, moving the plastic hands to show that she expected to return in an hour.

  She started to leave but then paused, staring at the sign. Surely it wouldn’t take a whole hour. “Delegate, he said,” she muttered aloud. “I’d delegate the whole damn thing if I could.”

  She stood where she was for a long moment, staring blindly at the sign while her mind locked onto a truly unique idea.

  Could she?

  Why not?

  She smiled. Delegation is the key.

  Grace moved the hands on the sign to indicate she’d only be gone fifteen minutes. “That’s better.” And with that, she locked the door and left.

  CHAPTER 5

  Sarah

  Sarah watched Grace walk across the street, her notebook held to her like a shield, her heels striking the asphalt with enough force that, had it been warmer, they would have left marks.

  What a mess.

  It was the fourth, or perhaps fifth time Sarah had thought that in the last five minutes. And it was all because of the tightly controlled woman right now fleeing the scene of carnage she’d created.

  Well . . . to be fair, “carnage” was a bit harsh. “Fiasco” was more accurate. “Disappointment” worked, too. “Deep disappointment” worked even better.

  Zoe Bell and Nate Stevens came out of the library and joined Sarah on the top step. Nate had been a classmate of Sarah’s oldest sister, Madison, and had even dated her in high school for a short time, which could be said of most of the good-looking guys she went to school with. He was tall, handsome, auburn-haired, tanned, and perpetually dressed in flannel. As owner of the local Ace Hardware, he had access to a lot of signage, which made him a valued member of the Dove Pond Social Club and pretty much every other organization in town.

  He watched Grace on the other side of the street, striding up the sidewalk as if she owned the place. “That was interesting.”

  “ ‘Interesting’ doesn’t begin to cover it.” Zoe watched over the top of her sunglasses as the door swung closed behind Grace. The vice president of the First People’s Bank, Zoe was dark-haired and elegant, a dead ringer for a young black Audrey Hepburn. She knew it, too. In celebration of her self-aware Audreyness, Zoe wore expensive vintage everything and, by Sarah’s reckoning, owned no fewer than a hundred pairs of cat-eye sunglasses.

  Zoe shifted the faded folder she held to one side and slid her sunglasses up so they rested on her head. “I have to give her credit. She’s efficient.”

  “Efficiently devastating,” Sarah said sourly. “Someone needs to tell her that wasn’t cool.”

  “It won’t be me,” Nate said. “I know a tank when I see one, and that woman would as soon roll over you as wave hello.”

  “She was mighty,” Zoe said. “At one point, I had to fight the urge to salute.”

  “We all did,” Nate agreed, his blue eyes twinkling.

  “Tank or not,” Sarah said, “we can’t let what happened at that meeting go unchallenged.”

  “Don’t look at me.” Nate went down the few stairs to the sidewalk. “I’ll support whatever you guys decide, but I’m not going against that force of nature.”

  Zoe eyed him with a thoughtful gaze. “Really? You’ll support whatever we decide, no questions asked?”

  “Yup, because I know I’m leaving this fight in capable hands—all of yours.” He backed away as he spoke. “Meanwhile, I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “Afraid?” Zoe demanded, although she smiled as she said it.

  “Terrified,” he admitted. “Just let me know when the next meeting is, and I’ll be there.”

  Sarah nodded absently. “Someone will send an email.”

  “Perfect. See you all later.” He gave them a friendly nod and headed down the street toward his store.

  Zoe moved down a step so that she could watch him go. As soon as he was out of earshot, she murmured, “He knows how to wear those jeans, doesn’t he?”

  Sarah sent a frustrated look at Zoe. “You haven’t changed since high school.”

  Zoe shrugged. “We all have our hobbies.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes, although she wasn’t all that irked. She liked Zoe. Or she did now. In high school, Sarah hadn’t known how to handle Zoe’s barbed humor. Now Sarah rather enjoyed it. “Not to disrupt your designated hobby time, but we’ve an emergency on our hands. What should we do about it?”

  Zoe didn’t stop watching Nate’s departure. “I’m not sure yet, but I’m thinking.”

  “Think fast,” Sarah ordered.

  The library door creaked open and Ed Mayhew came outside, squinting in the afternoon sun and looking a bit disoriented. “Was it me, or did we just see a hundred and fifty years of tradition toppled in less than five minutes?”

  “One hundred and fifty-seven,” Sarah corrected. Ed and his wife, Maggie, had moved to Dove Pond from Asheville eight years ago to open Paw Printz, the best (and only) pet store in town. Convivial and creative, the couple had quickly become two of Dove Pond’s most active residents. Short, paunchy, and pale, Ed reminded Sarah of his dog, an elderly dachshund named Peggy Mae. Fortunately, Ed’s disposition was better than that of Peggy Mae, who’d either bitten or tried to bite just about everybody in town.

  “What a meeting.” Ed raked a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, leaving a good bit of it standing on end. “Maggie had her hopes up that the new town clerk would know how to turn the festival around. We all did. But that—” He shrugged helplessly. “Hell, I don’t even know what that was.”

  “It was painful,” Zoe said.

  “Like being kicked in the teeth,” Ed agreed. He sighed. “I guess I’ll head back to the store, but I’ll tell you what—I’m not saying a word about this to Maggie. She’d just go on a tear, and I don’t have the energy to listen.”

  “We should all keep this to ourselves,” Sarah said. “I’ll have Erma add that to the minutes email. No talking. The last thing we need is a bunch of rumors swirling around town. In the meantime, Zoe and I are going to find a way to fix this.”

  “I hope you can.” He shook his head. “Hostile takeovers and dark secrets. We’ve turned into the Real Housewives of Dove Pond. Just let me know when everything is settled.”

  “We will,” Zoe said.

  “Good. I’ll see you at the next meeting, then.” He frowned. “There will be a next meeting, won’t there?”

  “Of course,” Zoe said sharply.

  “And soon,” Sarah added.

  “Then I’ll be there.” He nodded goodbye and headed across the street.

  Sarah watched him, noticing that he walked right by the planter in front of town hal
l without so much as a glance. Apparently, she was the only one who’d noticed that the formerly purple flowers had faded to a pale, sickly green as Grace whisked past.

  It was becoming more and more obvious that Grace’s presence in their town meant something monumental, and yet no one else seemed to have realized it. It was all Sarah could do not to announce it from the rooftops, but she knew from long experience that it was best to let people discover things for themselves. Besides, such an announcement would raise questions, and Sarah didn’t have answers. Not yet, anyway.

  “That was complete and utter baloney!” Erma Tingle announced as she stepped through the doors. A short, square woman with brown skin, she wore her iron-gray hair in the same style she’d sported since she graduated from Dove Pond High forty-two years ago. “I’m going to speak to Mayor Moore about this. I bet he’ll have something to say about Miss Wheeler’s decision to ditch her responsibilities.”

  “Good luck finding him,” Sarah said.

  Zoe added, “He’ll be out fishing by now. Besides, he won’t do anything. You know how he hates confrontation.”

  “Well, we have to do something!” Erma said. “I’ve never seen the like. She just came in, took the roll so she could mark us all present, announced we needed a new chairman, and then called a vote on the first person who offered to do it. Then she dumped her folder and left. She was in that room all of”—Erma looked at the notes she’d taken—“three minutes.”

  “It was shocking,” Zoe agreed, absently smoothing the bent corner of the fat folder she held.

  “And you!” Erma poked Zoe’s arm. “You raised your hand the second she asked who wanted to be chair!”

  “I regretted it as soon as I did.” When Erma stared at her in disbelief, Zoe rolled her eyes. “You can’t think I want to be the chair. I don’t even like coming to the meetings. You know that.”

  Sarah had to admit that was true. “She does complain about it a lot,” she told Erma.

  “See?” Zoe said. “But I couldn’t say no to a leadership opportunity. She waved the chairmanship position in front of me like a red flag. It was right there.”

  “So you jumped at the bait,” Erma said, looking disgusted.

  “I’m weak! It’s all the bad training I’ve had. My father has said over and over and over, ‘Zoe, you’re a Bell, act like it.’ ‘Zoe, never refuse an opportunity.’ ‘Zoe, always be in front, no matter the cost.’ ”

  Erma snorted. “I don’t know why you listen to him. Your father also thinks there’s a good chance the world is run by lizard men. I’m on some sort of email list he’s set up since he retired, and he keeps sending out videos that look like they were made in someone’s mother’s basement with an old camcorder.”

  “He’s got too much free time now, but we all know he made the bank what it is today.” Zoe grimaced. “I can’t help myself where he’s concerned. It’s ingrained, like going to church. I know I won’t go to hell if I skip one Sunday, but the thought of my dad’s face when he sees that empty pew makes me sick to my stomach. I feel the same way if I say no to a leadership opportunity.”

  The door behind them opened and Kat Carter came out, followed by Sarah’s sister Ava. No two women could be more different. Kat was dark-haired, tall, and curvaceous, the kind of woman who, even while wearing jeans, looked as if she were about to get on a private jet to Paris. Meanwhile, Ava was short and never wore makeup, and her blond hair was tied back in a permanent ponytail. She was attired in her usual overalls and, as far as Sarah knew, hadn’t worn heels since her prom. As different as the two were, Ava and Kat had been close friends since the fifth grade.

  Ava stopped beside Sarah. “Is this the after-meeting?”

  “Why weren’t we invited?” Kat asked. She said in a lower voice to Ava, “Everyone wants to go to the after-meeting.”

  Sarah sniffed. “Only the cool kids are allowed at the after-meeting, so you’re both out.”

  Ava broke into a grin, a brilliant lopsided affair that transformed her from tomboy gardener into a dazzlingly charming woman in the space of a second.

  Sarah returned the grin. She and Ava had grown close since high school, and Sarah couldn’t ask for a better roommate or sister.

  Ava looked at Sarah now. “Any ideas of how to proceed?” The name of her business, AVA’S LANDSCAPING AND GOURMET SPECIALTY TEAS, was spelled out in colorful, flower-strewn letters on her overall pocket. It wasn’t the most creative business name, but as Ava liked to point out, her creativity was better spent on her plants and brews than on the words printed on her overalls.

  Sarah was proud of Ava’s success. Ava was a master gardener, and everything she touched bloomed. It had been that way since she was a kid, and now her services as a landscaper were in high demand. Even more profitable was her side business providing the trendy shops in downtown Asheville with the specialty teas she made from the plants she grew in her greenhouses. Although they’d never talked numbers, Sarah was fairly certain her sister was making a small fortune.

  “And you.” Ava pinned Zoe with an accusing look. “You practically jumped out of your seat when Grace asked for someone to take her place as chairman.”

  “I know, I know.” Zoe made a face. “I caved. But I’m going to take care of it. If I have to move heaven and earth, Grace Wheeler will lead our club once again.”

  “We need her,” Sarah said.

  “Badly,” Zoe agreed.

  “I don’t know,” Erma said in a skeptical tone. “Do we really want Grace in charge of our festival if she doesn’t want to do it?”

  “Yes,” Sarah said firmly.

  Ava’s gaze locked on Sarah. “You know something.”

  Sarah nodded. She never could hide anything from her sister. “She’s the right one for the job. That much I’m sure of.” And she was.

  Erma threw up her hands. “Fine. Get her back. We need a chairman, and if Zoe doesn’t want the job—”

  “I don’t,” Zoe said emphatically.

  “Then Ms. Wheeler it is.” Erma narrowed her gaze on Zoe. “I assume you’ve already got a plan in mind.”

  “I might. If Mayor Moore wasn’t such a pushover, I would—” Zoe stared at the closed doors of town hall, her lips pursed.

  “Uh-oh,” Ava announced. “She’s thinking.”

  Kat leaned closer to Ava to say in a low voice, “I’ve seen that look before. Zoe’s in hunting mode.”

  Sarah could almost see the shiny cogs twirling in Zoe’s sharp, edgy brain.

  Suddenly, Zoe gave a cool, calculating smile, her hazel eyes sparkling. “Rest assured, fellow club members,” she announced. “By this time next week, Grace Wheeler will once again chair our club.”

  “Voluntarily?” Kat asked.

  “No, but she’ll do it with enthusiasm.” Zoe considered this and then amended, “Well, not enthusiasm. I can’t promise miracles. But she’ll do it with purpose.”

  “That’s good enough for me.” Erma surveyed Zoe with appreciation. “You look like your mom when you talk like that.”

  Zoe’s smile flashed. “Thank you. She was as hard as nails, my mom.”

  Ava cocked an eyebrow at Zoe. “Need any help from us?”

  “Not right now. I can handle the first part of this project on my own. Mayor Moore will be in the bank this afternoon to make his mortgage payment. I’ll catch him there.”

  The hope Sarah had been feeling wilted when Zoe mentioned the mayor. “If you’re expecting Mayor Moore to take care of this, you’re going to be disappointed. He won’t do anything. You know how he is.”

  Zoe’s smile didn’t waver. “I know exactly how he is. Wait and see.”

  “Fine.” Sarah couldn’t keep the doubt from her voice.

  “If Zoe says it’ll happen, then it will,” Erma said. “But whatever you’re going to do, do it quickly. We need to get Miss Wheeler up to speed on her duties as soon as possible or we’ll be behind.”

  “Will do. I’d better get back to work. See you all later.”
Zoe turned on her heel, ready to head down the steps.

  “Wait,” Sarah called out. “I almost forgot.” She hurried into the library, grabbed a book she’d set out earlier, and brought it back outside.

  “Uh-oh,” Ava said. “She’s armed.”

  Sarah ignored her sister and thrust the book into Zoe’s hands.

  Zoe looked at it. “Basic Italian in Ten Easy Weeks.” She frowned. “I don’t need this.”

  Erma peeked over Zoe’s shoulder at the cover. “You’d better take it. Last week, she gave me a huge, hardback repair manual for my truck and it sure came in handy last night.”

  “Your truck broke down?” Ava asked.

  “It did. Thank God I had that book.”

  “Wow.” Zoe looked impressed. “You fixed it yourself.”

  “Lord, no. The transmission got stuck in neutral and if I hadn’t had that book to use as a chock block, that damn truck would have rolled off into the ditch while I waited for a tow.”

  “Sheesh,” Zoe said in a testy tone. “That doesn’t count: you didn’t use the book as a book. You’d have been in even better shape if she’d just given you a block of wood.”

  “It worked, and I was glad I had it. That’s all I know.” Erma checked her wristwatch. “I’d best be off. Missy Robinson is watching the shop, and she has clarinet practice in fifteen minutes. Take the book, Zoe. You’ll be sorry if you don’t.” Erma waved and then left.

  “I’ve got to go, too,” Ava announced. “I’m supposed to meet someone about my rental house.” About five years ago, as Ava’s business had begun to grow, she’d bought a small cottage situated on two acres of land. She’d used the cottage as an office and had built two large, self-watering greenhouses behind it. But her business had grown in such leaps and bounds that she’d had to purchase another twenty acres at the edge of town that included a large farmhouse and a huge barn as well. Ava had moved her office to the farmhouse and now leased the cottage for a reasonable sum, although she kept the rights to the greenhouses, where she grew the more delicate plants she used for her teas.

 

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