“What is that?” Bentley asked, twisting her head to locate the source.
Pam covered her ears lightly. “Apparently the owner is having some shelving put up in the pantry. She mentioned it yesterday when I checked in; I just never expected it to start so early in the morning.”
I glanced at my watch. It was nearly ten o’clock here, but Pam arrived yesterday from California, which meant it was really only seven o’clock her time. Poor thing. I leaned in and raised my voice over the pounding. “The last of the authors just arrived,” I told her. “They’re getting settled but should be down in a minute. We wanted to make sure you’re introduced before we leave. But someone will be back around twelve thirty to pick you up for today’s meeting.” Bentley had set an organizational meeting for one o’clock at the James Joyce Pub. There would be over a dozen authors participating in the week’s events, so organizing and keeping track of everyone was going to be a challenge.
“I’m looking forward to meeting everyone,” Pam practically shouted. The noise coming from the pantry seemed to be growing louder. “There’s only a few of us here; where are the others staying?”
“At Bertram’s Hotel,” Bentley replied, her lips tight with annoyance. “It’s not as nice as this place, but it certainly might be quieter. Maybe we should consider moving you there.”
As if in response, the hammering suddenly ceased. Pam tipped back her head and chuckled. “Bertram’s Hotel? Like in the Agatha Christie book? No thanks! If I remember correctly, things didn’t go all that well for the guests at Bertram’s. So, I think I’ll stay here. At least we know there won’t be any dead bodies.” She pointed toward the pantry. “Unless Mr. Hammer Happy wakes me up again at some ungodly hour tomorrow.”
We all laughed. Just then Cora came into the kitchen with Lynn and Jodi on her heels. “Make yourselves comfortable, ladies. I’ll get some fresh tea.” She started rifling through the kitchen cabinets as Bentley made a round of introductions. Just as I’d hoped, the ladies seemed to get along well, instantly settling into a comfortable conversation about their hometowns and the books they liked to read. Vicky Crump, our ever-efficient office manager, had asked my opinion when she was setting up accommodations for everyone. During renovations, Cora had combined two of the bedrooms into a large living suite for herself, leaving three spacious en suite rooms to rent to guests, so I’d specifically asked that these three authors be placed together. I wanted Lynn to have the experience of being around more seasoned authors. It looked like I’d chosen the right mentors for her.
“I’ll have you know,” Cora started, setting the teakettle to boil on the stove, “I plan on attending all the events this week, even the wine tasting.” She let out a little giggle as she uncapped a glass jar and started measuring loose tea into a diffuser. “Good thing I got my tickets when I did; I hear all the events sold out.”
Bentley rubbed her hands together and smiled. “That’s right. Undoubtedly it will be another successful venture for our agency.”
To some, Bentley came off as overconfident, brash even, but in my mind, she’d earned the right to pat herself on the back. Before Bentley arrived, the town’s businesses had all but dried up during a hard-hitting recession. When she relocated her literary agency from New York to our humble village, it sparked renewed interest in the area. Soon all the businesses jumped on the bandwagon, changing the town’s name to Inspiration Valley and adopting literary-themed names for many of the small shops. Now our agency’s events drew crowds from all over the country.
Just then the racket started up again, pulling me from my thoughts. “Oh my goodness,” Cora said. “I didn’t realize just how much noise this project would make. Let me ask him to take a little break while we enjoy some tea.”
“No more for us,” Bentley said, standing and glancing at her watch. “We’ve got to get over to the Arts Center and make sure things are on track there.” We were holding most of the events at the Marlette Robbins Center for Fine Arts, a large facility recently built on the edge of town.