Almost Perfect (Fool's Gold #2)

“I know.” Abby grinned.

The preteen’s point was a good one. Maybe it was time to explain the truth to Tyler. That Liz hadn’t exactly pressed for Ethan to know about his son, and later fate, in the form of Rayanne, had intervened. She would discuss the idea with Ethan later.

Liz saw the signs pointing toward the signing area and was surprised at how many people had already lined up. Rather than go through the crowd, she and Abby went around, down by the lake, then back up through the trees.

“Do I have leaves in my hair?” Liz asked as they broke through several bushes and came out behind the booth where she would be signing. “I don’t want to look—”

She came to a stop and stared at the stacks of boxes from her publisher. There were at least a dozen. Maybe more. Both hardcovers and paperbacks.

Liz held in a groan. Montana seemed to have gotten ahead of herself. Enthusiasm was great, but if a significant percentage of the books didn’t sell, Liz’s publisher wasn’t going to be happy.

She saw her assistant Peggy waiting by the table and hugged her. “You came.”

“How could I miss this?” Peggy asked. “The great book signing caper. This is a lot of inventory.”

“Tell me about it.”

Liz introduced Peggy and Abby.

“I was feeling guilty about wanting to look at the quilts,” Peggy conceded with a laugh, “but you’re going to be busy for a while.”

“Yes, there’s plenty of time to come back later.”

“You’re here,” Montana said, rushing up to greet her. “I think we should start a little early. The lines are so long. Hey, Abby.” She hugged Liz, then the girl and introduced herself to Peggy. “I have water and pens. We’re going to take turns holding the books open for you to speed things along.”

Liz couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the book boxes. “Don’t you think you got a little ambitious with the ordering?”

Montana laughed. “Trust me, Liz. I know what I’m doing.”

“I’ve never sold that many copies in a single signing before. Not even close.”

“Then we’re going to break a record, aren’t we?” She patted Liz’s arm, then turned to Abby. “Want to take the first shift with holding open the books? I’ll show you how.”

“Okay,” Abby agreed cheerfully.

They walked toward the booth. The people in line began to clap and call out to her. Liz eyed the crowd and felt a little better. There had to be at least sixty people waiting. If they each bought a book, maybe she wouldn’t embarrass herself with poor sales. But someone had to have a serious talk with Montana. Optimism was great, but one had to be practical, too.

“I OWE YOU AN APOLOGY,” LIZ said, nearly five hours later as she approached the end of the signing. Her right arm ached, her fingers had cramped two hundred books ago and she was exhausted.

Montana laughed. “Never doubt the power of positive thinking.”

“Or great advertising.”

They’d gone through box after box of books and the crowd had never seemed to get smaller. Liz hadn’t had the hour break in the schedule, instead she’d signed straight through, talking to fans, posing for pictures and answering questions about various story lines.

“Has it occurred to you that people love your books?” Montana asked.

“Not this much. I need to ask for more money.”

Montana laughed, then turned to the next person in line.

Liz sipped water, then threw herself into author mode, focusing on the reader. Each one mattered. She wanted to know what they thought of her stories, what moved them the most. They were the reason she wrote.

A half hour later, the line had dwindled. She could actually see the end of it, which was great because she was close to running out of books. She’d half expected Ethan to bring Tyler by but she hadn’t seen either of them. As she glanced up to scan the crowd, she noticed a tall, thin man waiting at the end of the line.

What caught her attention was his intense gaze. He stared at her with a focused expression that made her uncomfortable. After a few seconds, she looked away.

She shook off her uneasiness and smiled at the woman next in line. The signing continued. It was well after six when Montana murmured, “Here’s the last one.”

“Hello, Liz.”

She looked up and saw the thin man who had creeped her out earlier. He had medium brown hair and watery blue eyes. His skin was pale and there was something about his expression that made her uncomfortable.

“Hi,” she greeted, forcing herself to sound cheerful. “I hope you weren’t standing in line too long.”

“Not at all. I wanted to see you. To talk to you. I would have waited forever.”

Talk about icky, she thought, grateful she wasn’t alone with the guy.

“Thank you,” she said. “So, can I sign a book for you?”