“Being a huge dork, that’s what.” I started laughing, and he said, “You’re picturing it, aren’t you?” When I nodded, he grinned and said, “I can’t believe I just told you that.”
“It’s so awesome.” I was still chuckling.
“Finish your cocoa,” he said. “It’s almost time for your surprise.”
“Okay fine, but I know you’re just trying to distract me from the mullet-mustache combo.”
“You’re right, I am. We still have almost an hour until our appointment. I would like to check out a few more shops, though.”
I drained my cup, then packed up the book as I said, “The only thing I know about Ashland is that it’s a theater town. I’d assume our visit had something to do with that, but I’m pretty sure it’s off-season right now and most of the venues are closed.”
“It is, and we should definitely return when the theaters are up and running. But that has nothing to do with why we’re here.”
When we got up to leave, I put the straps of one of the canvas bags over my shoulder and said, “I’ll help you carry your books.”
“Thanks. Those are actually yours, by the way.”
“They are?”
He nodded and put our dishes in a bussing tray as we headed for the exit. “They’re some of my favorite novels. I thought you might enjoy them, so I bought you copies.”
I stopped him with a hand on his arm and gave him a kiss before saying, “Thank you. That’s amazing.” He seemed happy as he took my hand and led me back outside.
We shopped for a while and bought some treats for Phoenix and Riley, and then Lorenzo stopped in front of what looked like an English pub. He took my bookbag from me and said, “Your appointment is right through this door. Look for a woman with red hair at the bar. Her name is Candace Day, and she’s going to be introducing you to her uncle, Avery Bowen.”
“Should I know who that is?”
“He wrote a book a few years back, under the pen name A.L. Sen.”
My heart leapt as I blurted, “I’m meeting the author of Alex and After?” Lorenzo smiled at me and nodded, and I stammered, “I can’t believe it! He hasn’t done an interview in at least two decades, and people say he’s a total hermit! How’d you even find him?”
“I asked Phoenix for help, and he came through. He has a lot of connections in Hollywood and was able to get the number for Bowen’s niece. She’s a lawyer and acts as her uncle’s representative. In fact, she negotiated the movie deal on his behalf. I called and told her who you are, and she thought her uncle would enjoy meeting the actor playing Alex. We were having a hard time finding a day to do this, but then this afternoon happened to open up for both you and Mr. Bowen, so here we are.”
I threw my arms around him and whispered, “Thank you, Lorie. This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
He held me for a long moment, and then he stepped back and said, “Go have fun, and take all the time you need. I’m going to get a coffee and read one of my new books at that little bakery over here.” He gestured over his shoulder.
“You’re not coming with me to meet him?”
“No. I want you to have as much uninterrupted time with him as he’s willing to give you.”
“Okay. I’ll see you soon, then.”
I took a deep breath and opened the door, which revealed a steep staircase. When I reached the top, I paused to look around. The walls were dark and cluttered with paraphernalia, and most of the tables were empty, which wasn’t surprising for four p.m. on a weekday.
A redhaired woman of about forty was watching me curiously from the bar, and I approached her and asked, “Ms. Day? I’m Will Kandinsky.”
She got up and delivered a firm handshake. “Candace, please. Thanks for coming all this way on short notice.”
“It’s such an honor that he even agreed to meet with me. I read your uncle’s book for the first time when I was seventeen, and I’ve probably read it twenty times since then.”
“That’s nice to hear. The movie was my idea, and my uncle hasn’t exactly been thrilled about the whole thing. He can be very stubborn. He’s also extremely blunt, so if he says anything to offend you, please don’t take it personally.”
I grinned and told her, “I’ve worked in Hollywood for ten years, so I’m used to blunt people. No worries there.”
“Okay. In that case, he’s right over there, sitting on the couch by the fireplace. Follow me, and I’ll introduce you.”
Avery Bowen was older than I’d expected. He was probably close to seventy with thick, white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a square jaw that was set in a hard line. He was dressed in a pink button-down shirt, khakis, and loafers, and there was a sweater tied around his shoulders, which reminded me of how people with money dressed in the 1980s.