The Malt in Our Stars Read online

  “Absolutely not,” Linnea said. “I enjoyed my years at college and got a lot out of it, but many talented and successful writers don’t have writing degrees.”

  Karidee seemed relieved by that answer.

  I stood up. “We’ve really enjoyed having you here, Linnea. Thank you so much for visiting Shady Creek and the Inkwell.”

  I clapped and everyone in the room joined in enthusiastically. A few minutes later, Linnea was seated at a table, a lineup snaking around the perimeter of the room as her fans waited eagerly to get her signature. A handful of people had come with one or two of Linnea’s books, while others had purchased a copy of Midnight’s Shadow from Marcie near the entrance to the Christie room. A couple of people were simply hoping to get the author to sign one of the free bookmarks Marcie had handed out at the beginning of the event.

  “I’d say that was a success,” I said quietly to Marcie as the line grew shorter.

  “It went very well,” Marcie agreed. “Thanks so much for allowing us to come here. Linnea and I were both really looking forward to spending some time in Vermont.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” I assured her. “Everyone’s so thrilled that you chose our town for a visit.”

  I inched closer to the table where Linnea was sitting, signing a book for my friend Cordelia King. Cordelia thanked the author profusely and then turned my way, beaming as she hugged the book to her chest.

  “This is so exciting!” she whispered as she passed by me on her way out of the Christie room.

  Cordelia shared my enthusiasm for books and was a member of the Inkwell’s mystery book club. She was a few years younger than me but we’d become good friends since we’d met last fall.

  A man and woman headed out of the Christie room in Cordelia’s wake. Karidee was next in line to have her book signed.

  “It’s so great to meet you,” she enthused when she stood in front of Linnea. “I’ve been a fan for years.”

  “Thank you so much,” Linnea said graciously as she signed Karidee’s book. “It’s lovely to meet you too.”

  “I was hoping to ask you—”

  An excited squeal cut her off. Karidee’s friend, who’d shown up for the event with her, practically shoved her out of the way as she moved in for her chance to meet Linnea. She babbled away excitedly as Linnea autographed her book.

  Karidee hovered near the table, as if hoping for another chance to speak with Linnea.

  Marcie brushed past me and approached the table. “Thank you so much for coming, ladies,” she said to Karidee and her friend. “I’m afraid Linnea needs to be on her way now.”

  Karidee hesitated, but then Marcie walked the two young women toward the door. As Karidee passed me, she seemed disappointed. Fortunately, she was the only one I’d noticed who wasn’t completely happy with their experience.

  When just the three of us remained in the room, Linnea got up from her seat and clasped my hand in both of hers. “I had a wonderful time, Sadie. And your pub is so charming. I’m glad I had a chance to visit.”

  “I’m so glad you did too. It’s really been a pleasure to have you here.”

  “I’d be delighted if you’d meet me for lunch tomorrow at the manor.”

  “Really?” I wanted to kick myself for not coming up with a more eloquent response.

  Linnea laughed, but in a kind way. “Really.”

  “I’d love that,” I said. “Thank you.”

  We arranged a time to meet at the manor and then I walked Marcie and Linnea to their car, parked in the small lot at the edge of the Inkwell’s property. I waved as I watched them drive off along Creekside Road, so incredibly happy that the event had been such a success.

  * * *

  I didn’t think my spirits could rise much higher, but I was pleased to see that several of the people who’d shown up for Linnea’s talk had remained at the pub to have something to eat or drink. Other customers had arrived while the event was on and Mel was busy serving food, pulling pints, and mixing cocktails. I jumped in to help her and around midafternoon business slowed slightly, enough that I could take a short break to venture into the kitchen for a snack.

  “How did things go with the author event?” Booker asked as I poured myself a cup of coffee.

  Booker James was one of two chefs I’d hired to work at the Inkwell. He covered the day shifts and Teagan Trimble worked in the evenings. They’d both proved to be great additions to my small staff and had helped me create a menu of literary-themed foods that had been a hit with our customers.

  “It was great,” I said, unable to stop the smile that appeared on my face. “Linnea’s very entertaining and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.”

  “Good to hear.”

  I took a sip of my coffee and my stomach grumbled loudly.

  Booker laughed as my cheeks flushed. “Sounds like you didn’t eat any lunch.”

  “I didn’t have a spare moment until now.”

  “Nachos?” he suggested.

  “Please.” My stomach gave another rumble and my mouth watered in anticipation.

  After I’d had my fill of nachos laden with warm cheese, black olives, peppers, guacamole, and salsa, I got back to work. I was in the middle of mixing up three Yellow Brick Road cocktails when Cordelia showed up for the second time that day. I waved to her before picking up my tray and delivering the drinks to three women who’d clearly just been on a shopping spree. They had several bags piled on the fourth chair at the table, all of them bearing the names of local stores.

  I chatted with them for a minute and learned that they were tourists on a short vacation from Pennsylvania. They’d ordered food as well, and I made a quick trip to the kitchen to grab their appetizers. When I returned to the bar, Cordelia was perched on one of the stools.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked.

  “To Be or Nacho Be,” she said, without looking at a menu. “And a Milky Way Gargle Blaster. But the mocktail version, please. Gran won’t be pleased if I’m tipsy when I get back to the inn.”

  Cordelia lived up the road from the Inkwell at the Creekside Inn, housed in a beautiful Queen Anne. Her grandmother, Grace King, owned and operated the inn, and Cordelia had moved back to Shady Creek after going to college so she could help out with the business. Cordelia was not only a fellow bibliophile but also a fellow redhead. Her hair, however, was crinkly while mine was straight.

  “I had to get back to the inn right after I had my book signed,” Cordelia said as I mixed together root beer, cream, and vanilla for her mocktail. “But I came back as soon as I could. I wanted to tell you that I had the best time earlier. Linnea is amazing!”

  “She really is great,” I agreed. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

  “I can’t wait to start reading Midnight’s Shadow. I’m already hooked after hearing her read the opening pages.”

  “Me too.” I set Cordelia’s Milky Way Gargle Blaster on a coaster in front of her. “I’m hoping I can get some reading time in tomorrow.”

  While she sipped at her drink, I served a few other customers and then brought her platter of nachos out from the kitchen. Two men at the other end of the bar ordered pints of beer, but Mel was looking after that order so I took some more time to chat with Cordelia.

  “How are things at the inn these days?” I asked.

  “Great! Did I tell you about our new guests?”

  “No. Tourists?”

  Cordelia shook her head, her blue eyes bright with excitement. “The Craft Nation crew! They arrived yesterday. There’s only three of them so far, but the show’s host is supposed to arrive later today. I can’t wait to meet him. He’s so handsome!”

  I understood the dreamy look in her eyes. I’d only ever watched a couple of episodes of Craft Nation, but the host, Jules Beamer, really was quite attractive.

  “It’s good to know they’re finally filming the episode,” I said.

  Originally, it was supposed to happen in February, but a succession of delays had postpon
ed the crew’s arrival in Shady Creek.

  Cordelia scooped guacamole onto a cheesy nacho. “I know. I was worried they wouldn’t show up after everything that happened, but they’re finally here. Three of them, anyway.”

  “When do they start filming?” I asked.

  “They already have.”

  “Without Jules Beamer?”

  Cordelia demolished another nacho before replying. “I think they’re getting some shots of the brewery. Things they don’t need the host for. That’s what it sounded like, anyway. The woman in charge is Olivia Lo. I think she’s the director. Anyway, she’s so fashionable. You should have seen the boots she was wearing today. I’m sure there’s no way I could afford a pair like that.”

  I thought back to my morning visit to the Village Bean. “Maybe I did see them. Is there a guy on the crew named Alex?”

  “Alex Nevarez.” She picked up another nacho piled high with toppings. “He’s the cameraman.”

  “I saw the two of them at the coffee shop earlier. Those really were nice boots.”

  Cordelia sighed as she reached for her mocktail. “I guess it doesn’t matter that I can’t afford boots like that. I can’t walk in high heels anyway. How do you do it?”

  “Practice,” I said. “I’m fine up to three inches, but anything higher than that and I worry too much about breaking an ankle.”

  I left Cordelia for a minute while I attended to some other customers. By the time I returned, she’d nearly finished her platter of nachos and her Milky Way Gargle Blaster.

  “Grayson must be relieved that filming is finally underway,” she said as she scooped up the last of the guacamole with one of the remaining nachos.

  “He must be,” I agreed with a twinge of disappointment. I wished I didn’t have to assume that.

  Grayson Blake owned the Spirit Hill Brewery, which was the focus of the Craft Nation episode. Although we hadn’t started out on the best foot—I’d suspected him of committing murder and other crimes—our relationship had smoothed out to the point where I considered us to be friends. Unfortunately, he’d spent a lot of time out of town recently, so I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him. I missed him, probably more than I should have, but maybe I’d see him soon. He’d most likely be in town while the Craft Nation crew was here.

  That thought helped to ease my disappointment, and by the time Cordelia left the Inkwell moments later, I was back to floating on my cloud of happiness.

  Chapter 4

  Clouds rolled in the next morning, their dark color holding a threat of rain, but I didn’t let that dampen my spirits. Mel would be opening the Inkwell at noon, since I’d likely be away for a couple of hours, so I didn’t have to worry about the pub. All I had to do was enjoy my lunch with Linnea.

  When I turned into the manor’s long driveway, I lowered my window again so I could enjoy the sweet scent of the spring air. I spotted Marcie out on the lawn near one of the flower beds, talking with Judson. As I drove past them, Marcie placed a hand on Judson’s arm and let out a tinkling laugh, the sound floating toward me on the breeze.

  I continued on toward the parking lot, and when I glanced in my rearview mirror, Marcie was making her way across the lawn toward the manor. Like the day before, the parking lot was about half full. I pulled my white Toyota into a free spot next to a van with FINCH’S PLUMBING written across the side. It was Jan’s van, most likely, although I’d never known her last name. Either she hadn’t fixed yesterday’s problem as well as she’d thought she had, or the manor had yet another plumbing issue needing attention.

  As I climbed out of my car, a drop of rain hit the top of my head, quickly followed by another. I hadn’t brought a coat, despite the dark sky, and I silently chided myself for that. I didn’t want my dress to get soaked, so I grabbed my purse and hurried around to the front door. By the time I stepped inside the lobby, the rain was beating a steady rhythm against the paved driveway.

  The lobby was empty when I shut the door behind me, but I could hear someone talking nearby. The closer I drew to the reception desk, the clearer the words became.

  “I’d like to do an inventory of all the linens for the dining room. I’m going to order some new ones and I’d like to know how many tablecloths and napkins we need to replace. I thought we could work on that together.”

  I was pretty sure that was Gemma’s voice.

  “Of course,” another woman said in response.

  A second later Gemma and Connie emerged from the office behind the desk. Connie flashed me a brief smile before heading briskly down one of the hallways that led off the lobby.

  Gemma smiled more brightly. “Hello again. You’re here for lunch with Ms. Bliss?”

  “That’s right,” I said.

  “I think you’ll find her in the dining room.”

  Almost before Gemma finished speaking, Marcie arrived in the lobby from the direction of the ballroom and dining room.

  “Hi, Sadie,” she greeted. She was slightly flushed, but her hair and clothes were dry. She must have made it back inside before the rain started. “Linnea is already in the dining room, if you’d like to go join her.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “I’ll just—” Marcie’s gaze shifted to one of the tall windows flanking the manor’s double front doors. A flash of annoyance crossed her face. “Not again.” She was already on her way out the front door when she called out over her shoulder, “Excuse me. There’s something I need to take care of.”

  Instead of heading straight for the dining room, I moved closer to the window and peeked outside. Karidee stood at the base of the front steps, clutching a large handbag. Marcie stopped on the bottom step, blocking her way. The two seemed to be arguing and Marcie pointed emphatically down the driveway.

  Karidee glared at her before saying something I couldn’t hear. Then she spun around and stomped off through the rain. Marcie stayed standing on the steps, watching her go, as if wanting to make sure Karidee wouldn’t turn back.

  “The perils of fame, I suppose,” Gemma said from behind the reception desk.

  I’d almost forgotten she was there. “Sorry?”

  “Ms. Kent caught that young woman trying to sneak up to Ms. Bliss’s room yesterday. Can you believe her audacity?” She shook her head. “Some people are desperate to rub shoulders with the rich and famous.”

  The phone at the reception desk rang and Gemma answered it, so I didn’t hang around in the lobby any longer. In the dining room, Linnea sat at a round table set for three. Four other tables in the room were occupied, one by a group of four, two by couples, and one by a woman about my age with blond hair that cascaded down her back in glossy waves.

  “Sadie, it’s so wonderful to see you again,” Linnea said when I approached her table. “Please, sit down.”

  “Thanks again for inviting me.” I pulled out a chair and settled into it. “And also for making yesterday’s event such a hit.”

  “It was great fun and I’m delighted to have you here.”

  Marcie appeared in the doorway then, but most of my attention was focused elsewhere. The blond woman at the next table grabbed her handbag, donned a large pair of sunglasses, and jumped up from her table, all in one swift movement. She rushed from the dining room, leaving through a door near the one that led to the kitchen.

  Marcie was making her way across the dining room toward us, and two others had entered the room on her heels. I recognized them a second later as Olivia Lo and Alex Nevarez from the Craft Nation film crew. Alex was dressed in dark jeans and a black sweater. Olivia wore high-heeled ankle boots and the same leather jacket as I’d seen her in before. Her red cashmere sweater provided a bright splash of color against her black pants and jacket.

  “Sorry for the delay,” Marcie said as she reached our table.

  Across the room, Alex and Olivia claimed a table by one of the windows.

  “No worries,” Linnea said. “Will you join us?”

  “I’m afraid not. I’ve got a migr
aine coming on, so I thought I’d lie down for a while.”

  “Of course, dear,” Linnea said with sympathy. “Rest for as long as you need to.”

  Marcie took a step back. “Hopefully it won’t get too bad. So nice to see you again, Sadie.”

  “You too,” I said.

  She flashed us a smile and then left the dining room.

  “Poor thing,” Linnea said quietly. “She gets terrible migraines, especially when the weather’s changing.”

  A waiter dressed in black and white approached us, so I didn’t say anything in response. Before long, we were dining on a delicious lunch of poached salmon in hollandaise sauce, asparagus, and herb roasted potatoes. Linnea had a glass of wine with her meal, but I settled for ice water since I’d be driving home.

  At my request, Linnea expanded on the story she’d told the day before about how she’d become a writer. She’d always known she wanted to be an author, she said, ever since she was a little girl writing stories about her cat, Fluffy, and her pet turtle, Frankie.

  “I’ve always loved books,” I said, after sampling the salmon. “I’ve thought about trying to write one, but I doubt I have it in me. Filling three hundred pages with a story compelling enough to keep readers interested seems like such a daunting task.”

  “It isn’t easy, but for me it’s always the first page that’s the most intimidating. After that I get into the swing of things and tend to forget about the world around me. As for not having it in you, you just might. You’ll never know until you try.”

  “True,” I conceded.

  An idea struck me. The Inkwell currently hosted three book clubs. The newest one, for science fiction and fantasy books, was in its infancy. There had only been one meeting for that one so far, but up to this point all of the clubs had been a great success. I wondered if there would be any interest in a writing group as well. There could be monthly meetings at the Inkwell so members could encourage and help each other. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to try my hand at writing a book—I had my hands full with the Inkwell—but others in town might be interested.

  I tucked the thought away to consider later. For the moment, I wanted to enjoy my time with Linnea.