How interesting, Lisa Lee Smith is shy…
She cleared her throat. “Well, I never thought about it before. Thank you.”
“No problem,” Bruce said with a grin. “Those covers are too cool not to display.”
“I would think they’re a bit too racy for a guy.”
“I’m very secure in my manhood.”
“Do you play for the other team?”
Bruce met her gaze, a lovely dark chocolate brown color, and raised his eyebrow. “Do you want to test that theory?”
She blinked, a smile spreading over her face. “I would think Captain Malcolm Reynolds would appreciate the bluntness.”
Bruce laughed, spinning around. “You mock my Firefly costume?”
“A little bit.”
“Hey, Firefly is very steampunk.”
“Easily adaptable, anyway.”
Books tumbled to the ground, jerking Bruce’s attention from Lisa. The other woman setting up her table struggled hanging a banner on the front of her table.
He walked up and put his hand on the banner. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you—shit, Denise!” He snapped, floored his sister was the other author.
Denise grinned. “I didn’t tell you I was coming? Why do you think Angela put you up here with us? I wasn’t about to sit up here all alone—” Her gaze cut to Lisa Lee Smith. “No offense. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I take it you know each other?” Lisa asked.
“He’s my brother,” Denise said. “He does a lot of my book covers.”
“Really?” Lisa said. “How convenient.”
“Not really, she’s a pain in the butt,” Bruce said.
“But you love me,” Denise said, then glanced at Lisa. “I’m glad you came. It’s good to be sitting with a fellow Clandestine author. Last time I did one of these,” she said as she picked up the fallen books, “I wound up sitting with a guy who smelled like garlic and was trying to sell his self-published poetry book.”
Lisa laughed. “Doesn’t sound fun.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I wasn’t planning on coming, actually. I happened to be, uh, encouraged to come, and I had time,” Lisa said.
“Well, I’m glad you were able. I didn’t realize you lived near here.” Bruce helped his sister position the very Regency-themed banner.
“I, uh, live out in the boonies.”
“Well, glad you made the trek.” He shook his head.
What galactic joke is this? He thought as he helped his sister with her banner. He half wanted to pop her upside the head. Now he really would have to be on his best behavior.
And hope his sister didn’t make him look like an ass, which she excelled at.
The packing tape snarled with a squeak as he attached it to the table.
“That ought to do it,” Bruce said.
“I guess, if it’s the best you can do…” Denise said.
Bruce raised his eyebrow. “It’s not the best I can do, but it’s good enough for you.”
“Ass,” she muttered, slugging him in the arm.
“Wow, that’s nice,” Lisa said, her hand running over the edge of the banner. “Where’d you get it?”
“Oh, Vistaprint. They are amazing,” Denise said. “I got these done and these there, and…”
Bruce shook his head as Lisa and his sister talked about printing and promo pieces, Denise showing off her latest batch of bookmarks and postcards. Lisa nodded, scribbling notes on a piece of paper she’d had at her table.
The two of them were gone, off in their own world, and Bruce went back to setting up his area.
“Oh yeah,” he muttered. “I need models.” He spun to his sister and Lisa. “Ladies, I need models.”
Denise rolled her eyes. “And I should help you why, again?”
“Because you’re my sister and I helped you put up your banner.”
“Well, there is that,” Denise muttered. She wasn’t totally steampunk dressed today, but she did have on a corset with her pants. “I suppose I should. No one will ever believe I wore a corset in public.” She leaned over to Lisa. “I doubt this thing will make it all day, anyway.”
Lisa smirked.
“Come on, ladies. I need to test this lighting, anyway.”
Lisa shook her head. “No thanks… You go ahead.” She waved Denise on.
Denise caught her hand. “Oh come on. I bet if you smile pretty, he’ll email you copies and you can use them for author pictures.”
“Really, I’m good. I don’t do author pictures.”
Denise shrugged, and took a seat. “Guess it’s me.”
Bruce poured on his best pouty look. “It’ll be fun, and you’ll get to immortalize that amazing costume. Please?”
“You seriously need to work on your begging face,” Lisa said.
Bruce paused.
Something about the way she said…
It was in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t put the pieces together.
Didn’t matter.
“Let’s try this first.” Bruce positioned Denise where he thought the light would be good.
Click. Click. Click.
“Good, now…” He tilted his camera, and adjusted the light. “Try this. Tilt to the side a little more. Sit up straight.”
“Bossy,” Denise replied.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re going to look like a humpback if you keep sitting like that. Straight. Tall. Suck it in.”
“If I suck it in anymore, my boobs are going to pop out.”
“Make them pop,” Bruce said.
Click. Click.
“Yeah, that’s it.” He snapped a few more.
“You’re so not getting paid for this,” Denise said through clenched teeth.
“Since when did you pay me?” Bruce asked.
There it was.
He hit the shutter as fast as he could, getting a half a dozen shots. One of those would be perfect, he knew it.
He glanced at the display on his camera, and nodded.
“Oh, that one is beautiful,” Lisa said.
He about jumped out of his skin when he realized Lisa had come over to look at the shots.
“Yeah, it is.” He could smell the soft scent of citrus bath wash on her, or maybe the shampoo…
Didn’t matter.
He’d never look at an orange the same way again.
She turned, looking in his eyes. The one eye he could see opened, and she inhaled a breath.
“Let me see,” Denise said, breaking their little huddle.
Bruce held out the camera so she could see the shot, seething at his sister’s horrible timing.
Lilly smiled, watching Bruce fawn over Lisa Lee Smith, and kept giggling every time he stared. She knew he fawned over Greta, and Lilly only hoped before the day was out, Greta would tell him who she was.
But only time would tell.
Chapter Sixteen
“Here you go, I hope you like it, Mikena,” Greta said to the girl in her gorgeous costume. Done in red and brown, the mix of Victorian elegance and steampunk metal absolutely came together perfectly. The girl obviously spent a lot of time on it.
“I’m sure I will,” she said. “I’ve enjoyed the others in the series.” She held out her hand to shake Greta’s. “It’s great to meet you, Lisa.” Her cheeks blushed. “Or is it Lisa Lee? What’s right, I’m not sure.”
“Lisa is fine,” Greta said. When she’d penned the name forever ago, she’d never considered people would think her name was Lisa Lee. It sounded to her like two last names, which was what she’d been going for.
“Lisa, then.” She grinned. “And I’ll email you next week about the interview. I think it would work great for the blog’s sci-fi series.”
“Perfect,” Greta answ
ered.
The girl grinned, taking the books and tossing them in her big purse. “Can I get a picture? For Facebook?”
“Sure.” Greta forced a smile on her face. While she knew she was wearing a mask and no one could see her face properly, it still felt weird to allow someone to take a picture.
“Can I, uh…” She came around the edge of the table.
“Here, let me.” Bruce had been taking portraits for some people, but mostly he’d been in and out, snapping pictures of the festivities since he got set up.
And evidently, he was back now.
“That’d be great.” Mikena handed Bruce her camera, and came around to kneel next to Lisa.
Bruce snapped three shots.
“Hey, what about me?” Denise said, and scooted her chair in closer. Mikena laughed and wrapped her arm around Denise too, and Bruce snapped a few more.
“Now, let go of Lisa, and I’ll take a few with you and Denise.”
Greta laughed. “You’re so bossy.”
He blinked and stared at her for a second, then regained his composure. “It’s what I do.” Bruce took the last couple of pictures.
“Brothers are like that,” Denise said.
“He’s your brother?” Mikena asked.
“Sure,” Denise said, and began to tell Mikena how Bruce did all her cover art. And then glanced at Lisa’s. “Didn’t Bruce do yours too?”
“I, uh… I think so.”
And Bruce, shockingly, stared at the floor. Were his ears turning pink?
“Yeah, I did them.”
Even though she knew, she put on her best surprised face. “Wow, it’s really cool to meet you in the real world. Who would have thought?”
“Really, you do cover art for them? Amazing. And the family support, that’s so awesome,” Mikena said. “Maybe we could interview you as well. Do you do freelance cover work, or do you contract with publishers?”
“Contract with publishers.”
Mikena vibrated with excitement as she snapped a few pictures of Bruce and told them she couldn’t wait to go write her blog post for the review website she worked for.
Bruce stood there, kind of sheepishly staring at the ground.
“What’s the matter, Bruce?” Greta asked him. “Did you think I wouldn’t like the covers or something?”
“No.” Bruce turned to his photography corner, adjusting his light. Rather nervously, she noticed.
“Ignore him—his fanboy is coming out,” Denise said.
“Why?”
Bruce came over and started fiddling with the books on the table. “It’s so weird.” He straightened out the business cards, then re-fanned them so they were perfect. “I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time. Almost as long…” His words trailed off.
“Almost as long as what?” Greta asked, afraid to ask.
Denise touched Greta’s arm. “He’s got some girl he’s in love with.”
“I’m not in love with her,” Bruce said.
“Well, whatever it is, you’ve had the hots for her for a while now.” Denise put her hand on Greta’s arm. “You should have seen his face light up when she called him last week at lunch.”
Greta’s heart hammered.
He lit up. For me?
“You do not need to tell everyone everything you know.” Bruce glared at his sister.
“But what fun would that be?” Denise said, grinning.
He rolled his eyes. “I wonder where she’s at…” He pulled out his phone and sent a text.
Greta immediately covered her phone to muffle the incoming text message. “Was she supposed to be here?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t crack. It did, but only a little bit. She covered by faking a cough.
“Yeah. I don’t know where she is.”
“Maybe she had car trouble,” Denise put in.
“Maybe,” Bruce said.
Denise stood and stretched, then cracked both her wrists. “I have to run to the bathroom. I’ll be back.” She scooted around the table, and Greta noticed how she patted Bruce’s arm, and said something soft to him.
He smiled and nodded.
Greta for a moment envied their brother-sister relationship. She didn’t have any close family. It was always her, her parents, and her grandparents. Not much of a family legacy.
Bruce pulled his chair next to Greta, fluffing his Firefly-esque brown coat as he plopped into his seat. Greta couldn’t help noticing the knee-high boots he wore… What did the fan girls call them? FM boots? Regardless, the boots were great, and they very much highlighted Bruce’s muscular leg.
“I think the next show will be starting…” He pulled out a pocket watch. “Yep, in about ten minutes.” Then he froze. “Is it okay if I sit here?”
He caught me staring…
Her cheeks got hot. “Of course.” Greta smiled and turned her attention to the bottle of water she had, because, wow… Bruce obviously had some sexy attributes.
She swallowed again and took another sip before fortifying herself enough to continue the conversation with Bruce.
“So this friend you’re meeting? Are you two close?”
“Yeah. She’s probably my best friend. At least I thought so. She’s really awesome. Sat and let me whine about losing my dog, and never complained or told me to get a new one, or to get over it.”
“I’m sorry about your loss.” She raised her hand, hovering in the air a minute, before laying it on his shoulder. She knew she should comfort him, and it had taken all of her reserve before—when she’d seen him walk up the stairs—to not grab him and hug him.
Just for the dog.
Yeah, that was the only reason.
“Thanks. He was a great dog.”
“I bet Steve was.”
Bruce snapped his gaze on her. “Excuse me?”
Greta froze, realizing what she said. Her face flamed, and her heart pounded.
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
Oh my God!
She made herself take another sip of water, force back the terror and panic. This wasn’t how she wanted to do this. It wasn’t… Deep breath. Sip of water. Calm. Calm… “What?”
Bruce’s stare was cold. “I never said the dog’s name.”
“Yes you did…” Greta tried to blow it off. But it wasn’t working.
His gaze pierced her, and her heart raced. “How did you know my dog’s name?”
Greta’s lip trembled. She was busted. She was so busted.
“I…” She fiddled with the straps on her corset. Picked at a piece of lint.
“Lisa,” he said, growling.
She brought her eyes to meet his. “I… I’m Greta.” She choked on the words. Even in the noisy dance hall, she could hear his every breath, and her heart pounded in her ears.
His eyes widened, brow shooting up, and his lips were frozen in an open “O.” He scooted back, almost tipping the chair.
Even though a dozen people milled about, voices filled the dance hall with the coming show, even the ruffling of skirts and clatter of metal all disappeared in the silence between them.
“Please, Bruce, say something.”
He continued to stare, a flicker of a smile took over the dumbstruck look, but he never stopped staring with the utter shock.
Tears welled in Greta’s eyes.
This was not how she planned to tell him. She was going to pull him to the side, tell him gently, and she’d thought he would wrap his arms around her, hug her, something. Not stare at her, dumbfounded, like he didn’t know what to do or what to say.
And maybe she’d built this moment up in her head, hoping it would wind up like one of her books. Perfect, sweet. The truth revealed and everyone would be happy.
Not like this.
He sat there, frozen, unable to spea
k.
Her first impulse led the charge. She shoved the chair back and took off, her skirts swishing around as she ran. Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision in the left side of the mask, but she didn’t care.
She had to get away. Away from his look of utter horror.
How could she have been so wrong?
She thought he’d want to meet her. Would be thrilled. After all, he’d gone on and on about her books before.
He should have been excited. Happy, even.
Not terrified.
What an utter fool she’d been, to think anything in her life could actually work out like she wanted it to.
Chapter Seventeen
“What is the matter with you?” Lilly squealed, and kicked her charge’s chair.
Bruce lurched forward, and his body finally moved. He ran his hand over his face, like he just realized Greta had taken off.
“Go after her you twit!” Lilly screamed. Not like he could hear her. Panic welled in Lilly, trying to figure out what…
What did she do now?
Still Bruce did nothing. He stared. Then his hand ran over one of the book covers, and he shook his head.
“Yeah, your dream girl isn’t a girl on Facebook, but she’s your favorite writer too,” Lilly yelled. She shoved over one of the book stacks, sending them flying all over Bruce.
Bruce looked around. “What the hell?” He stood and started picking up the titles. He kept shaking his head. “I can’t… It’s too weird.” He straightened out the books.
Lilly glanced around the hall. No one was paying attention, and she thought, if she ducked into a corner, she could materialize in human form and… Oh, she didn’t know. Go kick her charge for real and—
“Bruce, what’s the matter with you?” Denise said, hand on her hip.
“What?”
“Lisa ran out of the building, bawling. What did you do to her?” She jerked the books out of his hand. “And what did you do to the table? I leave you alone for five minutes, thinking you needed some private time, and you wind up destroying half the table.” She sorted the books as she ranted.
“I… She’s Greta.”
Denise froze, pile of books in her hand, and blinked. “What?”
“She’s Greta. The girl, the one you talked to on the phone?”
Guys and Godmothers Page 22
