He’d learned that Gen’s studies were successful, but how had she generated this kind of fandom in the middle of his restaurant? Weren’t all but the most bestselling authors anonymous? It wasn’t like he spent a lot of time looking at photos of his favorite author. He wouldn’t recognize the guy if he passed him on the street.
“I wept,” the brunette told Gen. “After the final day’s homework, I got down on my knees and wept before the Lord. You’ve changed my life. Seriously! You have. Thank you so much for what you do.”
“You’re welcome,” Gen said. “I’m really honored to hear how the study impacted you.”
“May I hug you?” the brunette asked.
No, Sam almost said, but he caught himself. What was the matter with the brunette? Didn’t she have any respect for Gen’s personal space?
“Of course,” Gen replied. She and the woman hugged.
It had been years since he’d witnessed this much feminine emotion on display. “Good morning.” Sam kept his focus on Gen but spoke with enough volume to be heard by all her fans.
Gen’s hair tumbled over one shoulder as she quickly faced him. Her eyes met his and immediately warmed. “Good morning.”
Everyone was waiting for him to say something further. “Nice to see you.”
“Nice to see you, too.”
“It seems your readers have found you.”
“We’re having a girlfriends getaway at a cabin nearby,” the brunette explained, gesturing to many of the nearby women. “We couldn’t believe our eyes when we spotted Genevieve Woodward two tables down. I mean...” She extended both hands palms-up toward Genevieve. “Genevieve Woodward.” She and her friends grinned.
“Yes,” Sam said dryly. “Genevieve Woodward.”
“Genevieve Woodward!”the brunette repeated.
He gave Genevieve a small lift of his brows.
The humorous expression she gave him said,“It’s bizarre that I have fans. There’s no accounting for taste.”
“To celebrateGenevieve Woodward, I’d like to shout you all some of our scones,” he said.
“What does shouting have to do with scones?” Gen asked, amused.
It took him a split second to understand the reason for her question. “In Australia, when we say we’ll shout something, we mean we’ll offer it for free.”
“You’re offering us free scones?”
“I am. Also, let me lead you to our side patio. The weather’s warming up, and I think you’ll be more comfortable there because it’s quieter and there’s more space.”Plus, you’ll be out of everyone else’s way. “Follow me.”
He stopped to ask Star to bring out scones, then led them through the side door.
“I admire your crowd-control skills,” the one with the family resemblance to Genevieve said as she took up a position beside him on the patio. Everyone else closed around Genevieve. “I’m Natasha MacKenzie, Gen’s sister, former attorney-at-law, wife, mother of two.”
“Sam Turner, half brother to people you don’t know, restaurant owner, farmer, father of none.”
“Delighted to make your acquaintance.” She shook his hand with a confident grip. He remembered that she, too, was one of the Miracle Five. She’d been buried under the rubble with Gen.
“The casserole I just ate was excellent,” she said. “I respect you hugely.”
“And I respect you hugely because you have a good palate.”
She laughed.
“Does this happen often?” Sam inclined his chin toward the adoration session.
“Relatively often, yes. Among a certain demographic, Gen is very popular.”
