Romance on Mountain View Road

by Sheila Roberts

  The women came in all ages—good-looking babes decked out in tight jeans and clingy, sleeveless tops and not-so-good-looking babes, hiding extra pounds under baggy tops (he recognized that strategy—baggy tops worked to hide a lack of body, too). Then there were the cougars with fancy jewelry and tantalizing makeup, and older women, many with gray hair and spreading waistlines. It seemed half the women in Seattle were there, each one clutching the new Vanessa Valentine hardback. Many also carried other books, a mix of hard- and paperback, for her to sign, and Jonathan wished he’d brought his other Vanessa Valentine novels from home.

  Watching the disappearing inventory, he decided to get over to the checkout counter before the store ran out. In addition to snagging a copy for himself, he wanted to get one for Bernardo’s wife and for Juliet, who would kill him if he didn’t bring her a book. Heck, she was probably going to kill him when she found out he’d gone to this without her. But he was on a mission, and it wasn’t the kind of mission where a guy brought his sister.

  He swam through the sea of estrogen to the counter, where a pretty, brown-haired woman around his age was ringing up sales, along with the only other man in the place—Vance. It was Vance, wasn’t it?

  This version of Vance didn’t look like him, though. He’d shaved, and he’d exchanged his slob uniform for slacks and a shirt and sport coat. Here in the store, with his game face on, he not only looked like a different man, he acted like one, too. He was smiling and genial, flirtatious even. It was as if his body had been taken over by an alien life force. Who was this Vance? Jonathan could feel his jaw dropping.

  The alien Vance caught sight of him and mirrored Jonathan’s expression. Then he frowned. “Jonathan. What the hell are you doing here?”

  Jonathan frowned back. “I saw on Vanessa’s website that she was doing a signing here. You coulda told us, you know.”

  “I didn’t think you’d want to come. These things are a zoo. Anyway, I was going to bring you all signed copies.”

  “You were?” Now, that was darn nice of him.

  Vance took four books off a rapidly shrinking stack. “Here. On the house.”

  “Thanks. Uh, can I have one more? For my sister. I’ll pay.”

  Vance shoved another book at Jonathan. “What the hell. Just take it. That stack is all presigned so now you can leave this circus.”

  Jonathan didn’t want to leave the circus. “I’ll stay. Juliet will want Vanessa to write something personal to her.”

  For some reason this didn’t seem to make Vance all that happy, but he shrugged and said, “Suit yourself. But don’t expect her to have time to talk to you.”

  That was exactly what Jonathan was hoping for.

  “She’s on a tight schedule and she doesn’t want to be here all night. She can’t stay and yak.”

  Jonathan supposed that was how it went with celebrities. What he wanted to ask was something no one in his right mind would ask someone like her. But he was going to do it, anyway.

  Books in hand, he searched for a place to sit. The crowd had already taken up most of the folding chairs arranged in rows on one side of the store. If very many more people showed up, there wouldn’t be enough to seat everyone.

  As he scanned the rows of seats he got another surprise. There, over in a far front corner, was Pat from Mountain Escape Books, along with Cecily’s mother, Muriel, and Dot Morrison. Oh, boy, this was awkward. Would they wonder what he was doing here? Of course they would. Enlightening as romance novels were, he was still embarrassed to ’fess up that he read them, especially in front of Dot, who was bound to have some dirty crack ready to embarrass him.

  Maybe they wouldn’t spot him in the crowd. He positioned himself toward the back, next to a middle-aged woman who gave him a friendly once-over.

  “It looks like you’re a big fan,” she observed.

  He was suddenly conscious of a petite brunette settling in on his other side. Her curiosity was palpable and the room got even hotter. “Uh, these aren’t for me,” he explained.

  “For the women in your life, right?” the woman asked, and he nodded.

  “That’s so sweet,” said the brunette. “Is one of those for your girlfriend?”

  Was she coming on to him? When was the last time that had happened? The answer was easy. Never. He couldn’t help smiling. “No.”

  She cocked her head. “Got a girlfriend?”

  “Not yet. But I hope I will soon.” Had he just said that to a perfect stranger?

  “Oh.” She looked disappointed. “You’re seeing someone.”

  He’d been “seeing someone” all his life. She’d just never seen him back. “Sort of.”

  “I should have known that a man who reads romance had to be taken,” the brunette said.

  Here was another benefit of reading romance, Jonathan realized. Obviously, carrying around a romance novel was almost as good as having a dog when it came to attracting women. Who knew?

  As anticipation grew, so did the buzz of female voices. Women began checking the door for a first glimpse of Vanessa. Up near the front, Pat turned around in her seat, probably also looking for her.

  Jonathan hunched down and dropped his gaze, willing himself to blend in with the crowd. It would have taken a grand wizard to accomplish that. He stuck out like a rhino at a tea party.

  When he finally ventured to lift his head, it was to see Pat staring at him in astonishment. Now that they’d seen each other, though, she smiled and waved at him. He raised a hand in return and she leaned over and said something to Dot and Muriel. It wasn’t hard to guess what, since they both turned, smiling and waving. Dot’s smile was downright puckish.

  He waved back, his own smile strained. Great. Just what he needed. Using a romance novel as a ploy to attract a woman was one thing; having all of Icicle Falls learn that he read them was another altogether. Maybe if he offered Dot free computer maintenance for life he could buy her silence.

  “You’ve got a fan club,” the middle-aged woman said.

  Was that what you called it?

  Now Vanessa Valentine was in the building, and a burble of excitement followed her as she worked her way through the crowd up to the front, where a podium stood ready for her and, nearby, a signing table decorated with a vase of red roses. Tonight she was wearing a flowery summer dress, her dark hair falling onto her shoulders. She was a pretty woman, and if Lissa hadn’t owned Jonathan’s heart, lock, stock and barrel, he’d have been smitten, in spite of the fact that Vanessa probably had ten years on him. He hoped his brain wouldn’t freeze when it was his turn to talk to her.

  Vance joined her at the front and held up his hand for silence. The women quickly obliged.

  “Thanks, everyone, for coming out to meet Vanessa.” He turned to her. “It’s always a treat to have you at the store.”

  “I’m always happy to come see my friends at Emerald City Books,” she said.

  She’d been at the store before. She knew him. How come Vance never mentioned that when they were all talking about her books on poker night?

  “And we have another popular writer here tonight. Muriel Sterling is with us. We carry several of her books,” Vance continued, “and, if you want to buy one, I’m sure she’ll be glad to sign it. Muriel, it’s good to have you here.”

  Muriel murmured her thanks and added, “I’m a big Vanessa Valentine fan.”

  “Who isn’t?” one of the women in the crowd called out, and several fans giggled.

  “Before Vanessa reads from her new book, we’re going to start by giving you all a chance to ask her some questions,” Vance said.

  A dozen hands shot up, and he pointed to a pimply-faced teenage girl in the front row. Jonathan had seen her earlier and felt sorry for her. In addition to the zit issue, she was overweight. It wasn’t hard to imagine what life at school was
like for her. Books were a world she could escape to, where she could enjoy vicarious pleasure as she watched the heroine work out her problems and come out on top. He hoped the girl would come out on top in her own life.

  “Where do you get your ideas?” the girl asked.

  “You know, they can come from anywhere. One place I love to find inspiration is in art museums. Paintings, especially traditional paintings, tell a story. Sometimes I’ll see a woman in a painting and it’s as if she’s saying, ‘Tell my story, Vanessa.’”

  Pretty impressive, thought Jonathan.

  “How did you get started?” the girl asked in a small voice.

  “By writing all the time. If you work hard, you can make your dreams come true.”

  The girl beamed at Vanessa, and with her smile her whole face lit up. There was a pretty girl in there. Jonathan hoped she’d find someone who could really see her.

  Another woman asked, “How long does it take you to write a book?”

  “That depends,” Vanessa said. “Each book is different.”

  The answer seemed a little vague to Jonathan, but the crowd was satisfied.

  “How do you write?” another woman asked. “At a computer?”

  “Oh, not at first. I have a lovely garden, and in the summer I like to sit outside on my patio with a glass of lemonade and write on a tablet. In winter, I sit in my sunroom with a vanilla candle burning and Adele playing in the background.”

  “What do you drink then?” someone called.

  “Tea. Lady Grey.”

  Jonathan wasn’t sure what tea had to do with writing, but the women all nodded like members of an exclusive club who knew exactly what she was talking about.

  Vance ended the chitchat. “I know you all want to hear Vanessa read, and we have to save time for her to sign your books. So, Vanessa, are you ready?”

  “Of course.” She slipped behind the podium, opened her book and began to read.

  The women—and Jonathan—listened, spellbound. Who’d have thought tea and candles could inspire all that?

  “‘Jean Pierre picked up his sword. The old wound hadn’t healed, but he couldn’t wait for that. If he did, it would be too late to save Lily Auguste. Her life was infinitely more precious than his. His only regret was that now he would most likely die without ever having kissed her. He would die before he had ever really lived.’” Vanessa stopped there and shut the book.

  There was a moment of awed silence, and then the room exploded in applause. And no one was clapping harder than Jonathan. Man, that was good stuff.

  Vance was back in control. “All right, ladies, if you’ll form a line to my left, Vanessa will sign now.”

  Again, Jonathan marveled at how different Vance was in this environment. Every bit of snark had been buried under a veneer of charm.

  The women surged forward but Jonathan stayed at the back of the bookstore, happy to let her other fans go ahead of him. He didn’t need eavesdroppers.

  Vance joined him. “You still here?”

  “Yep.” He held up the books. “I’m gonna get all these personalized. By the way, why didn’t you tell us you knew her?” Jonathan added accusingly.

  “What, you want a date?”

  “I want to meet her. I’m thinking she might have some good advice.”

  Vance looked heavenward and shook his head. “She writes fiction. Remember? It’s all made up. She’s not Dear Abby.”

  “Well, I still want to meet her.”

  “Suit yourself,” Vance said again, and left him to go ring up sales.

  The line moved slowly. Everyone wanted to meet Vanessa.

  Pat, Muriel and Dot, who had been near the front of the line, were now leaving the party. They stopped next to where Jonathan stood.

  “Jonathan, I didn’t know you read Vanessa Valentine novels,” Pat greeted him.

  “He’s reading them for the hot sex,” Dot teased. “God knows that’s why I read them.”

  As usual, Dot had succeeded in making him blush. “I’m getting a book for my sister. And...the others are for her friends,” he announced on a burst of inspiration.

  “That’s sweet of you,” Pat said. “Juliet was really disappointed to miss out.”

  His sister had known about this? Sheesh. She could have told him.

  “It’s too bad she got sick at the last minute,” Muriel remarked.

  “I guess she didn’t need me to get a book for her, then,” Dot said.

  “If we’d known you were coming you could have ridden over with us,” Muriel told Jonathan.

  “Jonathan wouldn’t want to be trapped in a car listening to three women talk about romance novels,” Dot said. “Anyway, you’d have been stuck here. We’re spending the night in town, staying at the Sorrento and then doing the Pike Place Market tomorrow.”

  The middle-aged woman he’d been sitting next to had been eavesdropping shamelessly and now joined the conversation. “Oh, I love the market. I always come home with one of those beautiful flower bouquets.”

  And so the conversation continued, with two more women joining in. Jonathan felt a little like he was in the middle of a cluster of rapidly multiplying cells, talking cells that made it hard to concentrate on what he wanted to say to Vanessa.

  Dot and company finally left and Jonathan breathed a little easier. They’d stood talking for so long, he’d begun to worry that maybe they’d wind up accompanying him right to where Vanessa sat and listening in on their conversation.

  Speaking of listening in... He turned to the middle-aged woman behind him. “Why don’t you go ahead of me.”

  “Oh, no. I don’t mind waiting my turn.”

  He could see her now, jumping into the conversation. You want help with your love life? How interesting! “No, it’s okay,” he said, motioning her forward. Far away. Then he moved to the very end of the line.

  It was an hour before everyone else had finished talking to Vanessa and Jonathan finally got his turn. She was wearing a wedding ring and a fat diamond. Jonathan tried to tell himself that because she was married, she was less intimidating. It didn’t work.

  “That’s quite a pile of books,” she said. “Are you doing your Christmas shopping?”

  “No.” Impressive, Jonathan. He pushed his glasses up his nose. “One’s for my sister.” He set the book on the table. “Can you sign it to Juliet?”

  “Sure.”

  She personalized it and he put another book in front of her. “And for Anna.”

  She signed that one and looked up expectantly.

  He laid down two more. “And for Adam and Kyle. They’re my friends.”

  She smiled. “Your friends have good taste in books.”

  “We all play poker. With Vance,” he added, nodding to where Vance stood at the register, along with the younger woman, bagging a book for one of the last customers.

  “So you’re one of Vance’s buddies.”

  Jonathan nodded again. “We all read your books. We’re, um...” Oh, boy. This was going to sound so stupid. “We’re...” He scratched the back of his head. “They make good textbooks.”

  “Textbooks,” she repeated, and held out her hand for the last copy.

  Jonathan passed it over. “Can you sign this one to me?”

  “And you are...?”

  “Oh, uh, Jonathan.” The village idiot. His face burned.

  “So, Jonathan, tell me more about how my novels make good textbooks.”

  “Well, they’re all about, uh, love. And getting it right. And my friends and I—we need to get it right.”

  “I see.” She was serious now, and the teasing light was gone from her eyes.

  Jonathan cleared his throat. “I need an expert.”

  “I’m not exactly an expert.”
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br />   “When it comes to a guy being a hero, you are. Your men always know what to say and do.”

  Now she looked uncomfortable.

  “Not at first, maybe,” he hurried on. “But they figure things out. I need help figuring things out. So does my pal Kyle. Bernardo, well, he’s got it together, but he’d love to meet you, anyway. And Adam, he’s really in a mess. His wife is so mad at him she kicked him out. But they’re gonna have their first kid. He’s got to get his act together.”

  “Sounds like it,” she agreed.

  Good. She saw the need. Now he had to put it all on the line and ask. “I read on your website that you live here in Seattle, and I was hoping maybe you’d be willing to come to Icicle Falls and meet the guys, let them pick your brain. It’s a great town. We’d pay for your lodging. And feed you.”

  “What the hell are you doing?” demanded a gruff voice at his elbow.

  Jonathan turned to see Vance scowling at him. The burn on his face got hotter. “I’m just seeing if Vanessa would like to meet the guys.”

  “Jon, she’s a busy woman. She has other appearances. Deadlines.”

  Of course she did. He’d been stupid to think a big-name author would have time to come all the way to Icicle Falls and act as a personal love coach to him and his friends.

  “When?”

  Jonathan blinked. “What?”

  “When?” Vanessa repeated.

  “Vanessa, you don’t have time for this,” Vance told her.

  “Maybe I do. For your friends,” she added, sounding more like his mother than his guest author. “Anyway, Pat from Mountain Escape Books was asking me earlier if I’d like to come up and do a book signing. That would be fun. So, when were you thinking?” She looked expectantly at Jonathan.

  “Uh, Friday night?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely. It so happens that I’m free this weekend. You can show me around town on Friday and I can meet your friends. Then I’ll sign books at the store on Saturday.” She turned to Vance. “I think it’s high time some of your friends met Vanessa Valentine, Vance. Don’t you?”