Hyacinth

by Chris Keniston

  “Alan, would you mind?” Her grandmother pointed to the kitten with her chin. “We have our hands full.”

  “Oh, of course not.” He took the necklace and moved to stand behind Cindy. His knuckles brushed gently across her shoulders and he heard her breath hitch in sync with his own. Slipping the hook into the clasp, he snapped the safety catch and took a step in retreat. “There you go.”

  “I think we’re all set. We should be able to hit Boston before traffic gets too horrific.” She turned to kiss her Grams and Lucy. “We’ll sell this idea to the investors and then head back, but we’ll still be back late.”

  There was no doubt in his mind this woman could do anything she put her mind to and excel at it. Not many women could go from country enthusiast to fundraising society matron in the blink of an eye. But Hyacinth Nelson was not just any woman.

  “You should stay in town with Rose. We can handle the kittens overnight,” her grandmother reassured.

  “I know, Grams, but I have to be at work bright and early and Alan still has a book to finish.”

  He hadn’t mentioned to her that he’d finished the book last night. Despite the time he’d lost worrying about Number One, ever since Cindy came into his life the words had flowed almost non-stop. And as much as he could argue it was the landscape and the people, he knew it was one people. Hyacinth.

  “Shall we go?” Extending his elbow, he offered his arm and knew no matter who else was at this evening’s little soiree, he would be the envy of every man in the place.

  ***

  “Wow. I should have known this place, and Rose, would put on a five-star event.” Cindy was delighted she’d listened to her grandmother and dressed up a few notches for the midweek event. Spending most of her life on the mountain, she’d forgotten how different the rest of the world could be.

  “In the little time I have spent with your family, if I have learned one thing, it is that not a single one of you does anything less than five-star.”

  “Thank you.” It might not have been necessary to hang on to Alan’s arm any longer, but she needed a few more minutes to get her bearings.

  “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” she muttered out of one side of her mouth.

  Alan laughed hard and loud and didn’t even flinch at all the heads that turned in their direction. They were most definitely not in Lawford anymore. Not that she hadn’t figured that out the minute they’d hit city traffic. Still, this was her first visit to the museum since Rose had been associated with it, and her first time ever mingling with the exclusive patrons and not as a paying visitor. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit, all dressed up or not, she was a little bit nervous.

  “You okay?” He squeezed her hand.

  “Of course.” All see needed to see was his slanted glance under raised brows to know he didn’t believe her. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Only to me. You’re cutting off the circulation in my arm.”

  “Oh.” She loosened her grip. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He did his best to flash a reassuring smile. “I’m a little nervous myself.”

  The smile worked. Tension slid away and a tiny laugh bubbled up. “Don’t we make quite the pair.”

  “There you are!” Much like her grandmother, Rose practically glided across the exhibit room and slid her hand into Alan’s free elbow. “I’ve been telling everyone about you.”

  “Me?” he muttered. “This is about Cindy and the wildlife center.”

  “Yes, but you are the bait.”

  “I don’t think I like the sound of that,” Cindy mumbled so only Alan could hear. Even if her cousin did have a point, did she have to be so blunt about it?

  “Rose, darling.” A tall blonde dripping in diamonds sauntered over and kissed the air by Rose’s cheek. “What a lovely job you’ve done. The exhibit is just exquisite.”

  “And we wouldn’t be able to accomplish it without donors like you and Mr. Rockford. We’re so glad you could join us for this little celebratory fete.”

  “We try to do our part.” The woman had a contrite smile down pat.

  A gentleman, who Cindy assumed was Mr. Rockford, sidled up beside Mrs. Rockford and handed her a glass of champagne. “Have a glass, Marjorie. It’s not a bad year.”

  “I’m not surprised.” The blonde accepted the flute. “Remember Rose Preston? Rebecca and Ted’s daughter.”

  “Of course.” While it was possible with a little coaxing he might remember who Aunt Becky and Uncle Ted were, Cindy was pretty sure at this particular moment the guy didn’t have the slightest recall of Rose.

  Standing awkwardly beside her, Alan leaned in and whispered, “If you’ll excuse me a minute, I think I’m going to find us some of that liquid courage.”

  Cindy nodded.

  “Oh, you must excuse me a moment.” Rose spoke to the Rockford’s but her gaze focused clear across the room. “There’s someone I need to speak with.”

  If she’d yanked any harder, Rose would have pulled Cindy’s shoulder out of its socket. Not till they were halfway across the room did her cousin slow her steps and notice Alan was not with them. “Where did he go?”

  “In search of courage.”

  Rose halted long enough to frown at her cousin.

  “He’ll probably be looking for us any second now.”

  The creases on her forehead eased and the well practiced smile was back in place. “Well, he’ll have to find us over here. We’ve only got a couple of hours to work on a handful of key people and we might as well start now.”

  Might as well. The family was right. Their sweet Rose was actually very good at living in both worlds.

  It took a few moments for Cindy to realize her cousin was gunning for the guy who looked to belong on both the cover of a fortune five hundred magazine as well as GQ. And of course, he had a pretty young blonde at his side. What she couldn’t decide was if it was his daughter, his wife, or just a friend.

  “Edgar.” Something in the tone of Rose’s voice gave Cindy the impression that Rose knew the man as someone other than a name on a guest list.

  “Rose.” Greeting Rose with a casual hug, he had the good manners to immediately introduce his companion. “Have you met Abigail Larabey?”

  “I can’t say that I’ve had the pleasure.” Rose extended her hand and Cindy thanked her lucky stars that she did not have to brown nose rich people for a living.

  For the next few moments, casual greetings and compliments were exchanged. Cindy did her best to keep up with the conversation, smile politely on cue, and nod whenever her input was appropriate. Two of the things her grandfather had made a point to remind her would be important tonight if she wanted to actually get some money out of the old fogies was to, one: keep her eyes on the donor; and two: always offer up a strong handshake. Both came rushing to mind. From the snippets of banter tossed about she’d been able to glean that the arm candy was just that. Neither wife, nor official girlfriend, the attractive lady obviously fell into the character of friend.

  By the time the conversation shifted to Mucky Muck’s latest acquisitions, Cindy had become distracted searching for Alan. Where had he gone to for that liquid courage—France?

  “I thought you were a fan.” Rose smiled and Cindy realized she had no idea what direction the conversation had taken. The only thing she was pretty sure of is that this guy was most likely a fan of Alan, because other than Herman, no one else within a 200 mile radius would have a clue who she was.

  Rose must have said something else to him, because Mr. Mucky Muck had stepped into her private space and smiled down at her as though she held the secret of the golden goose. “Tell me more,” he said coolly.

  Oh hell, she really should have paid more attention to the conversation. Alan was a big boy and could take care of himself. Most likely some other person had waylaid him for an autograph or some such fan thing.

  Rose waited a beat and just as Cindy was about to apologize for not paying attenti
on, her cousin stepped in to save her. “Cindy can explain so much more to you about the need for caring for our wildlife and educating our youth. How is the fox?”

  Fox? Who told Rose about the fox? “Last time we saw her and her pup she was happily reunited with the father and siblings.”

  “Really?” Mucky Muck actually looked interested.

  “Yes, and according to a local business owner who we believe is situated near the den, she’s seen the family since and Mama looks just fine.”

  “But you need more help?” he asked with more sincerity than she’d anticipated.

  “Yes. I’m—”

  “Excuse me.” Turning slightly away from Mr. Mucky Muck, Rose tapped her on the arm and winked. “I’d better make the rounds before my boss accuses me of playing favorites.”

  “And I’m going to see where the waiters went with those delicious shrimp bruschetta,” the blonde that had been hanging on like an extra appendage announced.

  Mr. Mucky Muck barely nodded at her. Cindy was rather surprised to find she had his undivided attention. Rose really knew how to pick them.

  “So, you were saying?” he urged her on.

  “Part of the problem is that I’m not a wildlife specialist. I can tend to the occasional mishap, but if I’d found an orphaned fawn or fox pup, those would have to be taught to live in the wild and properly returned to their habitat. I have neither the time nor the skill set to take on chores like that. While we have been blessed with a wonderful volunteer system—”

  “Like a volunteer fire department,” he interjected.

  She smiled. “Yes, I suppose so, but still, we need full time professional assistance. An education center would go a long way to help sustain the remainder of the center.”

  “And Rose tells me that you already have a donation of some land?”

  “That’s right. A generous donation, but construction for the facility isn’t going to be cheap.”

  “No.” He shook his head and smiled at her. “Never is.”

  “Do you like geese?”

  “Geese?” He seemed surprised by her question.

  “Canadian Geese. They’re a protected species but can be a challenge.”

  “Really?”

  She supposed all he knew about geese was fois gras, but she proceeded to tell him about how she found and treated Herman and now because he could no longer fly, he’d more or less become the clinic mascot. From the corner of her eye she’d spotted Alan across the room. Sure enough, two champagne flutes in hand, he’d barely managed to edge away from one very talkative gentleman, only to be stopped by another person.

  Except this time, the person was decidedly feminine, well dressed, rather attractive, and the way her hand settled unmoving on his arm and her gaze locked to his seemed a tad too possessive. “What the heck?”

  “Excuse me?” Mucky Muck asked.

  “Sorry, where was I?”

  “Herman.”

  “Oh, yes.” Halfway through how it would only be fair to Herman if he could be placed in a sanctuary with other rehabilitated geese, she noticed yet another woman approach Alan. This one threw her arms around him in a warm embrace and Cindy clamped her mouth shut, counted to ten, and reminded herself she had no claim on Alan Peterson.

  Then again, maybe it was time she did something about that.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Never had detouring for two drinks been such an obstacle course. Rose had prepped her attendees well. Alan suspected that even those who were not fans of his work were at least enthusiastic about a photo-op with a bestselling author. Of course it didn’t hurt his reputation any that two of his recent releases had been quickly turned into big screen blockbusters.

  Across the room he spotted Cindy and Rose accompanied by a couple. Except, from where he stood, he could see that the male half of the duo was sizing Cindy up. Any red-blooded male would have recognized the predatory glint in the guy’s eye. A glint that brought out every protective instinct Alan had, and an irresistible urge to mark his turf. Except Cindy wasn’t his turf. Blast.

  “Well isn’t this the last place I’d expect to find you.”

  Alan turned to the familiar voice. “Margaret. How nice to see you.”

  “I bet.” The always classically dressed woman laid a hand on his forearm and smiled up at him. “I didn’t realize you’d abandoned the California sunshine for true civilization.”

  If his former publisher knew he’d spent the last month about as far away from civilization as possible without actually pitching a tent in Big Foot’s backyard, she’d have asked him what he’d been smoking. “Does this mean you’ve given up on New York?”

  “Not at all—”

  “Alan!” Another more familiar voice squealed from behind seconds before a pair of feminine arms flew around him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Boston?”

  “Amanda.” This little party was most definitely filled with surprises. “How long have you been in Boston?”

  Her hand smacked his side. “You know my family has a house on the Cape. This time of year, there’s nowhere else to find me.”

  “There you are.” Stealing one of the glasses, Rose smiled at the crowd and clutched his now free hand. “I was about to send out search and rescue.”

  “Sorry about that.” Especially since he didn’t like the idea of Cindy alone with Mr. Perfect.

  Margaret casually glanced at the nametag Rose wore, alerting all to her museum affiliation. “The museum has outdone itself this evening.”

  “Thank you.” Rose beamed, exchanged a few more polite words then lifted the glass she’d pilfered from him in the direction of where Cindy and company stood. “If you’ll excuse us, I have a few more people to introduce Mr. Peters to.”

  “Of course.” Margaret sidestepped him, leaning in. “Call me while you’re in town. We’ll do lunch.”

  “Only in town for this little shindig and then heading back to my writing cave.”

  “Too bad,” Margaret purred. “Maybe next time.”

  As he turned to follow Rose practically dragging him away, he nodded at Margaret.

  “I’ll join you.” Thanks to Amanda latching onto his other arm, champagne sloshed over the rim of his glass. “Oops.”

  With Amanda hanging on him from one side and Rose tugging from the other, Alan had a new appreciation for the rope in tug of war. If luck was on his side he wouldn’t snap in two.

  “Here you go.” Rose handed Cindy the champagne glass she’d taken from him. “I hope you two found plenty to chat about?”

  Mr. Perfect bobbed his head. “This new project sounds very worthwhile.”

  “Oh, it is. Mr. Peters here is going to be involved in the fundraising as well.” Rose gestured in Alan’s direction. “Have I introduced you yet to Alan Peters?”

  Perfect’s eyes rounded for an instant before a calm façade of indifference took over. “The author?”

  Alan nodded. “That would be me.”

  “I’ve read your books.” Perfect seemed to have, thankfully, lost interest in Cindy. Already Alan knew one thing for sure about this guy. He was an idiot.

  “That’s always nice to hear.” In all the years since Alan had first bumped into a fan, he’d never quite mastered how to respond.

  “He’s very good,” Amanda offered, still hanging onto his arm.

  Perfect’s gaze bounced momentarily in Amanda’s direction.

  “I’m sorry,” Alan shifted his weight in a vain effort to escape her grasp. “This is Amanda.”

  “Amanda Peterson.” She extended her hand.

  “It’s a pleasure,” Mr. Perfect said.

  But there was no missing how Cindy’s eyes sparked with surprise.

  “My brother Glenn’s wife,” he explained quickly

  Amanda grinned up at him, and to his chagrin, tightened her hold. “Ex-wife.”

  ***

  A myriad of things ran through Cindy’s mind, not the least of which was that Amanda had way too tight
a grip on her brother-in-law’s arm. Ex or not.

  For a moment, Rose’s gaze flickered with annoyance at Alan’s ex sister-in-law before she turned her attention back to the Mucky Muck. “Alan is scheduled to do a book signing in Lawford and is donating some of the proceeds to the wildlife project.”

  “Oh, really?” His eyes sparked with interest. “When will this be?”

  “Next weekend,” Cindy responded, redirecting her attention to the man with the money. “The signing is actually part of a much bigger street fair.” For the first time since Alan joined the conversation, Mucky Muck’s attention returned to Cindy. Not that she cared. All she wanted were more non-resident donations and she didn’t care if that came from a love of mystery books, or wildlife, or small towns, but the glint of interest in his eyes had her rambling on. “There will be everything from a petting zoo and face painting for the children to the sidewalk sale and food trucks for adults.” If nothing else, if his stomach was the way to a man’s heart, one could easily adjust that to be food is the way to a man’s wallet.

  “And don’t forget the music,” Rose chimed in. “And of course there will be more of these lovely desserts. Have you been to the dessert tables?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have. The shrimp bruschettas are excellent and those cheese balls were exquisite—”

  “Actually, that’s our vegan option. They’re quinoa balls.”

  “Well, they’re addictive, but not nearly as much as the dessert section. I think I’ve tried one of everything at least twice.”

  “The sweet selection comes from my sister’s bakery.” Cindy couldn’t stop herself from grinning proudly over Lily’s accomplishments. “She owns the Pastry Stop in Lawford.”

  “I’ve heard of it.”

  He had? Wow. Now Cindy really wanted to grin at her sister’s accomplishments in such a short time.