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“Well, it’s true.”

“Yeah, but it’s rude to talk about things like that.”

“But—”

“It’s okay.” I interrupted, not only because I didn’t want to see the girls get into an argument, but because I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing. Will Price was paying for this book festival?

Obviously I knew he’d loaned the use of his house andapparently his boat for tomorrow’s author outing, and also given a hefty donation to the girls’ dance team.

But donated actual money to promote books—children’sbooks, which he’d quite publicly claimed weren’t even “real” literature?

Why? What was Will up to?

“Sorry.” Katie was looking at me apologetically. “Chloe’s right. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No.” Chloe looked furious with her friend. “You shouldn’t have, Katie. My brother is very private. Not just about me, but about... well,everything.”

Oh, this was interesting. What did Will have to be so private about? I’d never read a word about him having a wife or kids—every article referred to him as too “busy and dedicated to his career” to share his life “with a partner,” as he called it.

But I could understand that. I’d tried living “with a partner,” too, and it hadn’t gone too well. My “partner” had always been nagging me to go out and do things with him (on my dime) when all I’d wanted to do was stay home and write about funny kitten-sitting adventures.

And Justin had then had the audacity to accusemeof being the weird one in our relationship!

I shook my head. “No, don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s fine. It’s very... nice of your brother, Chloe, to have included me.” The words stuck in my throat. But she seemed like a genuinely sweet girl, so I had to say something kind about her brother, as much as it pained me.

“Are you serious?” Chloe shot me an incredulous look. “Ofcoursehe included you. You’re my favorite author! You don’t even know—your books helped me through one of the worst times in my entirelife.”

Wow.

Suddenly I knew I couldn’t do what I’d been thinking a moment earlier, which was to put Drew’s place card back where I’d found it, then sneak off the island and into an Uber back to the hotel.

And not just because I was sure that by now all the ink had washed off the hand-calligraphed card and onto my sweaty palm, but because when someone says something like that, you have to stick around.

Plus, it was too late. People from the meet-and-greet—which was apparently over—were starting to file in to grab their seats for dinner.

And leading the pack—standing a head taller than everyone else, and looking cool and relaxed despite the heat—was none other than the man of the hour himself, Will Price.

Chapter Nine

Everything was fine. Everything was going to be great.

I just had to be normal and act like I didn’t know that my mortal enemy, Will Price, had paid for me and my friends to be here.

Wait. Was he paying our stipends, too?

What in the name of sweet kitty heaven was going on here?

Never mind. It didn’t matter. I could do this. I could totally do this.

Fortunately there was wine. Members of the catering team—they were the ones in white shirts and black trousers—were walking around the tables with bottles, asking the guests who were filing into their seats which they preferred, red or white.

Perfect. Wine would help. Straight vodka would be better, but wine would work.

Letting the crumpled place card I was holding fall to the sand—it was nothing but a sweat-stained swatch of cardboard now, but completely biodegradable—I snatched up aglass from a table I was passing on my way back to the one I’d been assigned, then held it out to the closest server.

“Red or white?” she asked with a bright smile. “Tonight we have a lovely Pinot Noir and a Sauvignon Blanc.”

“Either,” I said. “Both. I don’t care.”