“What a small world. It’ssogreat to run into you here in Wicks Hollow,” Teddy said as she shook Ethan’s hand. “This is my friend, Oscar London. He’s a professor at Princeton, so you two can commiserate about how you have to fight off all the young coeds on campus,” she said with a wicked smile.
Oscar had already risen and was shaking Ethan’s hand—and trying not to be mortified by her comment. Which, unfortunately, was true. He had more than a few young female students—and, twice, male students—make it very clear that they’d like some extra, private tutoring in the lab. It could make things very sticky sometimes, not to mention contaminate any lab samples.
“It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it,” Ethan said as he shook Oscar’s hand. “Nice to meet you. What’s your area of study?”
“It’snotghosts,” Teddy said, and gestured to the table as Ethan laughed. “Have a seat; join us for a drink, won’t you? It’s Diana, isn’t it?” she added, turning to Ethan’s date. “I’m Teddy.”
“T.J. Mack—it’s a pleasure to meet you! Iloveyour books,” Diana said, shaking Teddy’s hand and then reaching across to do the same with Oscar. “I’ve just started reading for pleasure again—taking more time for myself and slowing down my crazy workload—and I just finishedDead End. Couldn’t put it down!”
“Thank you,” Teddy said. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
As they all sat down, Oscar accepted that he was now part of a four-person group instead of an intimate dinner for two. Which, he realized, was fine with him.
So, as he didn’t really want to talk about ghosts—and the fact that Ethan had already indicated his comfort with the topic—he jumped into the conversation. “We’re celebrating that Teddy just finished writing her sixth book.”
“Sixth? Wow. I’m just finishing up the notes on my second,” Ethan said with admiration and a touch of envy. He waved at Trib, who’d been hovering nearby as the group meshed. “How about a bottle of that Prosecco we had a couple weeks ago when Fiona and Gideon were here? A finished book is always cause for celebration.”
“Thank you,” Teddy said. “While some people think the most wonderful words in the English language are ‘I love you,’ I think there are notwosweeter words than ‘the end.’”
“Agreed on that,” Ethan said.
“Do you actuallytype‘the end’?” Diana asked. “Most books don’t actually end with those words, do they?”
Oscar watched as Teddy’s eyes began to sparkle in that way they did when she talked about her work—at least, when she wasn’t tied up in knots over writer’s block. This would be nice, having the extra couple here. Then he wouldn’t have to manage the conversation, or even participate in it—and he could just enjoy watching her. She was so animated, with such vitality—and it was such bullshit that she claimed she was an introvert.Hewas an introvert.
“I do, because it’s a major cathartic moment to type them,” Teddy said. “And a lot of authors I know still do. It came from a tradition back when writers would send their work to the publisher in hard copy—and sometimes in batches. The words ‘the end’ let the editor know it was the end.” She shrugged. “Like I said, I do it because it feels so good to know the bloody thing’s finished.”
“So, tell me about Sargent Blue,” Diana said, leaning across the table a little. “Is he based on someone you know?” She had to move back almost immediately, however, because Trib had arrived with four champagne flutes and the bottle of bubbly. “I’m madly in love with him, and I justlovethat he has to wear reading glasses.”
“Move over, honey,” Trib said as he began to work out the Prosecco’s cork. “I already laid claim to the man—even though Teddy here says he’s only a figment of her imagination. Herfantasy, I think she said.”
Yes, that was what Teddy had said. Oscar remembered that because it got him to thinking about just what that fantasy was. A guy whose hands were lethal weapons, but had to put on a pair of glasses to read his dinner menu? What sort of fantasy was that?
Still, he wanted to know.
Teddy, who’d been given the first taste of sparkling wine at Ethan’s request, sipped and put down the flute. “It’s lovely. Thank you, Ethan. And yes, well, I confess—Sargent Blue is a sort of conglomeration of things I like in a man.”
“Tellme about it,” Trib murmured as he leaned over to fill the glasses.
“Such as?” Ethan had picked up the thread now, and he seemed to be watching the rest of them carefully. He’d settled back in his seat, lounging comfortably in a casual shirt and shorts, with perfect dark hair and a face any woman would find attractive. He looked more like a minor celebrity than a boring college professor like Oscar.
“Well…Blue’s smart. And quick on his feet. He’s got a quirky sense of humor,” Teddy said.
Oscar snorted. “The guy’s a librarian turned agent. He spies on people and kills them if he needs to.”
Teddy leveled a serious look at him. “He only kills people in self-defense—orif they’re about to kill someone else. That’s part of his code, and part of—”
“What makes him so compelling,” Diana said on a breathless sigh that seemed so out of character for a woman who appeared as buttoned up and elegant as she did.
“So a moral code makes a man compelling,” said Ethan, lifting a brow at his date. “Fascinating. Let’s talk about that a little more.
“And here we go—the anthropologist has arrived,” Diana said with an affectionate laugh.
“Of course it does,” Teddy said. “And that’s often the core of what writers write about—characters who have a moral code and what they do when that code is challenged. How they act or react when the easy decisions are taken away from them, and they’re faced with aSophie’s Choicesort of thing.”
“That’s what makes a story compelling. And that’s part of what makes your books bestsellers,” Diana said earnestly. “That and the nonstop action and that well-sketched characters. But I do have to say—I loved the scene inBlind Alleywhere Blue had to put on his glasses in order to see the wires so he could defuse that bomb beneath the restaurant. It just made him sorealto me—not this incredibly talented superhero sort of person who’s so far removed from anyone normal.”
Teddy smiled. “I’m glad it worked for you.” Her gaze scanned the table and landed on Oscar, who’d been less vigilant about the conversation topic since it had gone off on the tangent of “fantasy men.” He realized this just as she smiled at him with those cat eyes and said, “So, I think Dr. London and I have a ghost at Stony Cape Lighthouse.”
