Page 3 of Promise Me Never

“Without further ado, let’s get into it,” the manager said as she exited the stage.

Lucy turned toward Bennett, bestowing a bright smile on him. “Let me first say, what a huge fan I am! I had to sneak Promise Me Never from my father’s nightstand. I was only fifteen when it came out, and my parents thought it would be too scary for me. But it ignited my love of the genre.”

He fought to keep the contempt from his voice. “I’m delighted that it inspired you.”

“But we’re here to talk about Don’t Ask If She’s Sorry. I inhaled it!” She looked out at the audience, holding the book up. “Y’all are going to go crazy for this one!” She turned back to Bennett. “It has a different vibe from your others, but it’s just as compelling. It’s not a spoiler to say it’s about a cult of females with a, shall we say, dark hobby of killing bad men. I tell you, you must be a feminist, Mr. Bryson.”

He was going to give Marion hell later. This twit was a disaster. He stood up, took a deep breath, and addressed the crowd.

“Well, the book is about murder, not movements.” He paused and waited for a beat. The crowd burst into laughter. “As many of you are aware, I’m a bit of a nontraditionalist. As much as I appreciate Lucy taking the time to come here, I don’t want to do a disservice to you, my fans, by not talking about what you want to hear. How would you feel if we dispense with the formal interview, and I take your questions?”

There was a roar of approval. Bennett turned to Lucy.

“I’d be ever so grateful if you’d call on some folks and repeat the question into the mic.”

It took a moment before her practiced smile slid into place. Bennett saw a look of pure fury in her eyes. After the questions got rolling, he found he was enjoying himself. He’d forgotten how gratifying it could be to engage with his fans.

“I have a question for Lucy,” a woman called out. Bennett couldn’t see who was speaking, and she didn’t stand when the manager handed her the mic.

“I was wondering if you do your own research. I couldn’t help but notice that you attributed a famous line from The Godfather to the wrong character.”

Lucy’s face bloomed with color. She took the microphone from Bennett, gripping it tightly.

“I do. But we all make mistakes. Are you talking about the ‘keep your enemies closer’ line?”

“Yes. You wrote that Vito said it. But it was actually Michael. But then again, you’re so young.”

Bennett smiled to himself. That had boosted his mood considerably. Who was that woman bold enough to jab Lucy? He’d like to shake her hand. “Any more questions for Lucy, or for me?”

The next ten minutes were filled with ones directed at Bennett, and he was relieved when the store manager signaled to let them know they had time for only one more. They wrapped up, and he extended a hand to Lucy.

“Thanks again for coming today.”

“Doesn’t seem like you needed me. I spent a lot of time preparing questions, you know. I don’t appreciate being blindsided like that.”

“You’re a writer. You should be used to a plot twist.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away. Marion was waiting to shepherd him over to the table to sign books. His breath caught in his throat. There was a woman standing next to her. Pale creamy skin. Flaming auburn hair. He couldn’t look away.

“Bennett. This is Savannah, my assistant.”

“Hello,” he managed to get out. He held her hand in his a moment longer than necessary, not wanting to let it go. A feeling of déjà vu overcame him.

She smiled at him. “It’s such an honor to meet you.”

The voice. She was the one who’d asked the question. Intriguing. “The honor’s all mine,” he said. “By the way, great question.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Couldn’t resist. She deserved it.”

Marion cleared her throat. “All right, then. Savannah’s going to assist you with the signing. We’ve already let them know, no personalization, no photos. Only a signature. She’ll make sure everyone complies.”

“Great.”

“Shall we get started?” Savannah asked.

As Savannah guided him toward the signing table, he felt the old thrill of possibility. The same thrill he’d felt when he’d first met Poppy. He didn’t dwell on how that had turned out.

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