“All correct.”
“So why here?”
“Because he and Gabe are friends and we have a spare bedroom. He’ll be staying with us at the orchard.”
Penny’s eyes narrowed. Her friend wasn’t answering her question. “That’s not what I meant. How will coming to Heartsprings Valley repair the damage he’s caused to his career?”
Holly blinked, clearly uncomfortable. “A number of … steps have been contemplated.”
Penny leaned forward. “Holly, my dear friend who I’ve known forever, my hardworking friend who understands how busy the holiday season is for us small business owners, my forthright friend who’s terrible at evasion, my goodhearted friend who clearly feels guilty about whatever it is she came here to ask —you need to spill. Pronto.”
Holly exhaled. “You’re going to be getting a call from his publisher.”
Penny blinked, surprised. “His publisher is going to callme? Why?”
At that very moment, Penny’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out and stared at the screen. “It’s a New York number.”
“That’s them.”
“Why are they calling me?”
“They have a proposition for you. A business proposition. A deal. An offer. He’s a huge best-seller for them. They’re desperate to fix the mess he made.”
Penny stared at her buzzing phone. She had a choice to make. She could either answer the call —or not. The simpler option, without question, would be to put her phone back in her pocket and tell her friend sorry, no way, no how, not a chance. Regardless of what the publisher’s “offer” might be, what she really needed right now, for the sake of her sanity in the midst of the frenetic holiday season, was to forget all about that misguided author and his ridiculous ideas about Christmas and stay focused on the million things she already had on her plate.
As she prepared to do just that, she caught the plea in her friend’s eyes.
“Just listen to them,” Holly said. “That’s all I’m asking. They want to make it worth your while.”
Penny sighed. “Holly….”
“Please?”
Penny glanced again at the insistent phone. “All I have to do is listen?”
“That’s all.”
“So when I tell them no, you won’t be upset?”
“Promise.”
“And I get to keep the muffins?”
“All yours.”
With a sigh, Penny brought the phone to her ear and, in a tone she managed to keep courteous despite the irritation surging through her, said, “Hello, this is Penny.”
CHAPTER 4
“Good afternoon,” a man on the phone said. His voice was crisp and had an English accent. “Am I speaking with Penny Quinn, owner of that delightful bookstore, The Tattered Page, in Heartsprings Valley?”
“Speaking,” Penny replied.
“I’m so sorry to be calling out of the blue, Ms. Quinn. My name is Nigel Farraday. I’m acting as a representative of Townsend Brown, the publisher.”
Penny’s brow furrowed. She’d heard the man’s name before —but where? “How can I help you, Mr. Farraday?”
“Please, call me Nigel. I wonder, have you spoken recently with your friend, Holly North?”
