Stranger Danger (Lucy McGuffin, Psychic Amateur Detective 4)

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “I was just using that as an example.”

“Let’s not argue about how all this happened,” says Brittany. “The important thing is that J.W.’s visit will make Whispering Bay the new literary capital of the Southeast.” She reaches out and gives Betty Jean a hug. “And we owe it all to Betty Jean and her persistence!”

The only explanation I can come up with is that the Botox has seeped into Betty Jean’s brain and spilled over into Brittany’s as well.

Brittany looks at me and frowns. “What’s wrong, Lucy? You don’t look happy. Just think of what all this could potentially mean for The Bistro. All that tourist money! I’m thinking of setting up a book festival next spring. What do you think? Or maybe we should do it in the winter, when all the snowbirds are here.”

This is going too far. I don’t want to give Will away, but I can’t let the entire town make fools of themselves. “Look, there’s something important I need to tell you—”

“Is this pouty face because you think you’re going to miss out on tonight’s big event?” asks Brittany. “No way was I going to let that happen to my best friend! I was going to set aside a ticket for you, but Travis took care of it.”

I still. “What does Travis Fontaine have to do with this?”

“He’s your boyfriend, silly. Who else would you go with? I stopped by the police station to arrange security for tonight, and when he found out about the event, he immediately bought two tickets.” She blinks. “Shoot. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Maybe he wants it to be a surprise.”

Betty Jean checks her watch. “Considering it starts in four hours, he’d better unsurprise her fast.”

“What are you going to wear?” asks Brittany.

“Since I just found out about this, I have no idea.”

“It’s not fancy, but it is cocktail attire, so don’t wear your sneakers. Or any of those T-shirts with those goofy sayings.”

I glance down at my shirt, which says MUCH ADO ABOUT MUFFIN. “What’s wrong with my shirt?”

“Nothing, if you’re trying to get a date with the Pillsbury Dough Boy, but you’ve managed to snag Whispering Bay’s newest eligible bachelor. You need to wear something sexy.”

Betty Jean manages to break through the Botox to snort. “Lucy? Sexy? Let’s not ask for miracles.” She gives me a thorough look-over. “How she managed to get that hottie Travis Fontaine interested in her is beyond me.”

“I’ll tell you how Lucy snagged Travis,” says Brittany. “Not only is she pretty and smart and makes the best muffins in the world, she’s wonderfully witty. That’s how.”

Wow. “Gosh, Brittany, I’m really touched.”

“Wear a dress. Better yet, text me a picture of what you plan to wear so I can approve it.”

Right. “So, by any chance, do you know if Will got a ticket?” I ask.

Brittany beams. “As a matter of fact, I just asked him to go with me, and he said yes.”

Oh, he did, did he?

Betty Jean taps her watch. “That’s enough chitchat. We need to go make sure everything is set up perfectly for tonight. Oh, and Lucy, don’t forget you’re making the muffins for the book club meeting tomorrow night.”

Rats. I’d forgotten about that. The situation is getting stickier by the minute. First, there’s this reading tonight, then the book club meeting. Will absolutely has to tell everyone the truth. But until he does, I need to play along. “Sure, I’ll bring muffins. What kind do you want?”

“Your best, naturally. And don’t try to pawn off any of your leftovers either. They have to be fresh. We can’t have a world-renowned celebrity like J.W. Quicksilver eating day-old muffins.”

I slap my hand over my forehead like I’m about to faint. “Goodness, no. We couldn’t allow a day-old muffin to pass through J.W.’s sacred lips. The entire literary world might collapse.”

Betty Jean tries to narrow her eyes at me (at least I think that’s what she’s doing). “If it’s too much of an imposition to provide the muffins, just let me know. Heidi offered me freshly made donuts. Lots of them. I can call her if—”

“I’ll make the muffins.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say. Have them at the house no later than six. And wear your work apron.”

“I thought the book club meeting started at seven.” Wait. Why would she want me to wear my apron, unless … “Betty Jean, are you expecting me to act as a server during your meeting?”

She sniffs. “You did miss the last meeting you were invited to. Consider yourself a probationary member of the club. You can serve during this meeting, and if you don’t mess anything up, you can come to the next meeting as a regular member.”