Nadine handed her a plastic cup of margarita mixture. “Not Anthony. You. Anna called to tell us y’all were coming, so we dropped everything.”
“I don’t understand,” said Joan, giving her head a little shake.
“We love your books. Well, we love Anthony, too. But we really love your books.”
“You’ve read Bayou Betrayal?”
“We’ve read them all. Of course. We thought they were written by a man.”
It took a second for the words to sink in. “You’ve read them all?”
Nadine lifted her own drink to her lips, nodding. “Sure did. Me and everybody else.”
“You mean to tell me your family reads all of Anthony’s clients’ books?” He’d told her he had a supportive family, but that was way beyond the call of duty.
Nadine grinned and shook her head. “We didn’t know you were Anthony’s client.”
Now that was even stranger. “Then why?”
“Because they’re great stories. You do realize you’ll have to sign about sixty copies before we’ll let you out of here, don’t you?”
“I’ll sign anything you want.” Joan glanced around the deck in astonishment. These people had all read her books?
“Loved Black Nights on Water.”
Joan smiled at Nadine with genuine pleasure. “It was a fast write. I loved playing around with the Joe McIntosh character.”
“He was hot,” Nadine agreed. “Saw you on Charlie Long last night. You’re a natural.”
Joan’s smile faltered. “I’m not crazy about the publicity.” She didn’t mention the situation with her family. Judging by what she’d seen of the Verduns so far, Nadine probably wouldn’t understand.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I don’t think I’ll do any more of it.”
“No way. Really?”
Joan nodded. “I just want to write books.” Though even that was up in the air at the moment.
“But you could be famous.”
Joan chuckled and took a deep drink of the icy margarita. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would. So, what was he like?”
“Anthony?”
Nadine snorted. “Charlie Long.”
“Oh. Really nice. Surprisingly nice.”
“Did you get an autograph?”
“Never thought of it.”
“Hi, y’all.” A soft-spoken young woman, about five feet two, with a toddler on her hip, joined the conversation.
“Joan, this is Leila, David’s wife.”
“I guessed that by the little one,” said Joan, reaching out to shake Leila’s hand. She hardly looked strong enough to carry the child.
“Margarita?” asked Nadine.
“You bet.” The toddler squirmed and whined, and Leila put him down. “Watch him near the edge,” she called to a man who had to be David.
She smiled hesitantly at Joan. “David told me not to ask you this.”
Joan tensed. Had they heard she’d fired Anthony? “What?” she asked slowly.
Nadine handed Leila a margarita, and Leila took a large swig.
“Anthony just sold my first book.”
“He did?”
“A suspense novel.”
“Congratulations!” Joan was delighted to share in such happy news. She remembered her first sale vividly. The first one was Brian’s, of course. But the second one, the one she’d done all on her own, had been a momentous occasion. Anthony had taken her out to lunch, since she couldn’t tell anyone else about it.
For the first time, she felt a tinge of sadness at the memory.
Leila was nodding, her eyes focused on her orange plastic glass as she ran a fingertip around the rim. “I’m not supposed to…” She glanced furtively back at her husband. “Would you read it? And maybe give me a quote? Only if you like it. Only if you…” She clamped her mouth closed.
“Of course I will,” said Joan. “But I don’t know how a quote would help you.”
“We’d put it on the cover.”
“But I’m…nobody special.”
“Are you kidding?”
Joan took another drink. “Really. You guys. You’re embarrassing me.”
She felt an arm across her back. Even with all the hugging in this family, she instinctively knew it was Anthony.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“We’re getting her drunk,” said Nadine.
He nodded toward Joan’s margarita. “You be careful of those.”
Joan took a defiant swig. “It’s a good day to get drunk.”
It was.
She was suddenly happy to be here. Anthony’s house was a great place to hide out emotionally for a while. Her parents were far away. Indigo was far away. Anthony was still her agent for a couple more days. And his family liked her books.
That was a very nice thing to hear.
She held her glass out to Nadine. “Can I have another?”
Nadine took the glass with a grin.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” said Anthony.
“I’m a big girl,” said Joan, with a toss of her hair. A few strands caught on his face, and he brushed them away, smoothing a hand over her scalp.
“And you can take care of yourself,” he mumbled.
It was probably a dig, but she chose to ignore it. “Absolutely.”
ANTHONY’S BROTHER Brett eased himself down in the next lawn chair, parked his beer on the grass and settled his second, loaded burger on a paper plate in his lap.
“So, what’s the deal?” he asked Anthony now that they had a moment alone.
“The deal?” Anthony took a sip of his own beer. He’d gone with a Bud Light. He figured Joan was drinking enough for both of them.
“You’ve been Jules Burrell’s agent all these years, and you didn’t say anything?”
Anthony slanted his brother a look of disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”
“Hey, we’re family.”
“So I should risk getting disbarred to share gossip?”
It was Brett’s turn to shrug. “I’m just saying, you could have hinted.”
Anthony snorted.
“She’s a woman,” said Brett.
“She is,” Anthony agreed.
“A hot woman.”
Anthony didn’t answer.
“Don’t you think?”
Anthony’s gaze strayed to where Joan was laughing with Nadine. Not that he hadn’t been watching her most of the evening anyway. “I’m not blind.”
“And you brought her here.”
“Yeah.”
“That means something’s going on between you.”
“No. That means things are uncomfortable for her in Indigo right now.”
“You could have taken her anywhere.”
Anthony slanted his brother an enigmatic grin. “I knew you’d want to meet her.”
“What a load of crap.”
“You want the truth?”
“No. I just want to gossip about your sex life.”
“We’re not having a sex life.”
“Sucks to be you.”
Brett didn’t know the half of it.
“She seems to like Nadine,” said Brett, taking a bite of his burger.
“That’s because Nadine keeps feeding her margaritas. Do you think your wife could slow it down a little?”
Brett licked a smear of mayonnaise from his thumb. “It could work in your favor.”
“You sleep with drunken women, do you?”
“Only Nadine.”
“She’s your wife.”
“What? You think I sleep with other women?”
“My point is, it’s hardly the same thing.”
“And my point is, some guys need more of an advantage than others.”
“You looking for a fight?”
Brett chuckled and leaned back in his lawn chair. “Don’t take your frustrations out on me, bro.”
“I don’t have any frustrations,” said Anthony. And he didn’t, expect for a nagging, unrequited lust, a possible murderer on the loose and the impending loss of his favorite client.
He downed a healthy swig of his beer.
On the flight over, he’d started having ridiculous thoughts about winning Joan back. After going through an extensive list of agents in his mind, he realized none of them were good enough for her. Not that he was good enough. But he wanted her anyway.