Mrs. Green’s gaze swung around to Martin, and he blanched.
“You agreed to this?” she said.
“I thought—”
“You do not have the authority to make those decisions. You are my employee.” Her eyes narrowed further, turning mean. Martin swallowed, and Seb’s heart started to pound a warning. He’d seen that look on Martin’s face too many times. More often than not, Seb caused it, but here he could help instead.
“Mrs. Green.” He stepped in front of her. She blinked, like she hadn’t even seen him until that moment.
“Oh. Hello, Sebastian.”
He smiled at her, the way he knew she liked. “The idea of a blues night is elegant, don’t you think? We were just discussing where to put the bar. It’s going to be quite the event.”
“That may be.” She tapped one well-manicured hand on the back of the other. “But the fact is that I was not consulted when these plans were made. The bookstore is mine, and while I’m happy to let community groups use the space—”
Behind him, Carol Anne made an exasperated noise, and Penny cleared her throat. Seb didn’t acknowledge them. His landlady was idiosyncratic. Despite her dusty, cavernous bookstore, she liked shiny things which gave her a certain status. Seb kept his attention on her, feeling like a snake charmer. If he looked away, the spell might be broken, and she’d turn her venom back on Martin.
“But just think about it. It’s a ticketed event. Very exclusive. And Carol Anne said it’s nearly sold out, so you know people are looking forward to see what the venue has to offer.”
“And a fundraiser,” Penny spoke up. “We’ll be donating part of the money raised to the Seacroft Food Bank, on behalf of the organizing committee.”
Mrs. Green tilted her head, like she was considering this. Seb plowed forward.
“And to increase the bookstore’s contribution, I’m donating a piece of my work to a silent auction.”
“You are?” Mrs. Green asked.
“You are?” Carol Anne said.
Seb risked a quick glance over his shoulder to wink at her.
“Of course. It’s part of the reason the event has been so popular.”
“Yeah, sorry, Mom,” Penny said. “Seb and I talked about that. Guess I forgot to mention it to you.” Penny was quick on her feet. Seb had to admire that.
“So you see, the bookstore is playing a critical part in this campaign. The organizing committee is very grateful for your participation. The donation from the silent auction is sure to be significant.” He was winning. Her arms were still crossed, but her long nails had stopped their tapping.
“A donation?” she said.
“A large one.”
“Well.” Mrs. Green fiddled with the buttons of her soft pink cardigan. “If there’s going to be a donation, it would only make sense for me to present the check to the food bank.”
Seb had to blink to keep from rolling his eyes. Someone, Penny maybe, coughed to smother a laugh.
“Well actually, Bruce Goodwin, as chair of the festival board, will—” Carol Anne’s comment was cut off with a soft squeak, like someone, also probably Penny, had pinched her.
“I’m sure some kind of arrangement can be made.” Sebastian’s face was frozen into his permanent grin. He took a step back and wrapped an arm around Martin’s shoulders. The other man inhaled and stiffened against him, but Seb kept smiling. “And of course, Martin will be donating his time to organize the event, and he’ll be the MC. Dr. Lindsey takes the stage!”
The bookstore descended into silence. They were all holding their collective breaths. Seb nearly swallowed his tongue when Martin slid one hand to rest in the space between Seb’s shoulder blades. His smile relaxed, and he pulled Martin closer until the professor’s surprisingly solid body was pressed along his side. The urge to pull him all the way in was almost painful, but now wasn’t the time.
Mrs. Green’s eyes narrowed again, and Martin shrank back, but Seb held his ground, keeping them both where they were, shoulder to shoulder.
“I’d like to make a speech,” she said finally. “Thanking everyone for coming and for their donations.”
Penny stepped forward and shook Mrs. Green’s hand.
“Of course! I’m sure everyone would enjoy that, wouldn’t they, Mom?”
