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“Hey,” Jerome said. “Peoplemagazine nominatedmeas one of the sexiest men alive, and all of you missed it.”

“Funny, Jerome,” I said. “Very funny.”

Bernadette had her cell phone out. “The only negative thing I can find online that happened to Will is the plagiarism thing.”

“If he’s so protective of his privacy,” I said, “it wouldn’t necessarily be something the press would know.”

“I’m protective of my privacy, too,” Jerome said. “So protective that whenPeoplemagazine tried to name me one of their sexiest men alive, I turned them down.”

Frannie laughed. “That’s because your wife wouldn’t share you, Jer.”

“Well, yes, that is true.”

Kellyjean looked confused. “Wait, I can’t tell if y’all are serious or playing with me.”

Bernadette was still scrolling through her phone. “They’re playing with you, Kellyjean. Jerome wasn’t named one ofPeoplemagazine’s sexiest men alive. And I can’t find a single piece of dirt on Will Price aside from the Nicole Woods thing, Jo. He’s never dated anyone, never had a job outside of publishing. It’s like he graduated from college and went straight into bestseller-dom. His very first book, published when he was twenty-three, was a smash hit. A lot like yours, Jo.”

“Uh, not at all like mine. Kitty Katz got rejected a hundred times before she became a smash hit.” I leaned back and gazed up through the palm fronds swaying in the breeze. I didn’t see any meteors, but frogs croaked all around us, the only sound, besides that of the waterfall over by the Jacuzzi and our own voices, in the hotel courtyard. “Never mind, it’s okay. I have a message in to my agent. You know agents getall the best dirt. I’m sure she’ll have something for me by morning.”

“I still don’t understand why you have to go poking into that poor man’s business,” Kellyjean said. “What all happened over at the Hemingway table tonight, anyway?”

“Nothing,” I said.

I meant it, too. My evening had been completely uneventful once Will had asked me to drop what had happened at Novel Con. The conversation at the table had been light—Saul sharing hilarious stories from the horror-writing business, Molly and Sheriff Hartwell sharing how they’d met, and Dorothy Tifton sharing a bizarre but entertaining story about how she’d helped catch a local thief.

Aside from his welcome speech, Will had hardly uttered a sound, except to laugh in all the right places at the others’ stories, and ask if I liked my food, or if I needed anything. It had been almost like sitting next to a very attentive butler. A very good-looking butler from England, who’d spent a good deal of his time worriedly watching his younger sister every time she flitted past with a tray or dish.

But when Chloe hadn’t dropped a single thing or otherwise embarrassed herself in any way, I’d noticed him relax a little. He’d even taken off his shoes beneath the table, and rubbed his feet in the sand. I don’t think he thought anyone would notice, but then, he probably didn’t think anyone was paying that much attention to him.

But I was. I couldn’t help it, much as I might have wished differently. Any more than I could help noticing that he had very sexy feet. God, what was wrong with me?

“I don’t understand any of this,” Kellyjean declared. “I think y’all are being very mean to poor Will, especially considering the fact that he’s invited us to his house and this festival and offered us those very generous stipends.”

I snorted. “Oh, please. If Will thinks he can make me forget what he did to me by paying me off with a ten-thousand-dollar stipend, you’re crazy.”

There was silence around the pool. The frogs suddenly sounded extremely loud, as did the splashing of the waterfall over by the Jacuzzi.

I realized then that I’d said something very, very wrong.

“Wait a minute.” Bernadette’s voice sounded unlike her usual flippantly casual tone. “You’re getting aten-thousand-dollarstipend to be here?”

“Um.” I looked around at the stunned faces of my friends and fellow authors and felt my stomach lurch. Uh-oh. “Yes. Aren’t you?”

“Heck, no!” Saul suddenly sat straight up. If he’d ever been asleep at all, he was certainly awake now. “I’m only gettingfifteen hundred!”

Frannie patted her husband on the knee. “Now, now, dear. Fifteen hundred dollars is nothing to sneeze at. And we’re getting a lovely, all-expense paid, first-class vacation out of it. And think how many books you’ll sell at your signing tomorrow and Sunday.”

“I’m only getting fifteen hundred, too.” Bernadette looked at Jerome. “You?”

He nodded. “Same. How about you, Kellyjean?”

Kellyjean was staring up at the stars again. “I don’t know.My agent arranges all of that. But I don’t think it’s anywhere close to ten thousand.” She looked back at us. “Why would Will Price pay Jo so much more than the rest of us? No offense, Jo, you know I love you. But I have a Netflix series, and you don’t.”

I shook my head, my throat suddenly dry. I had no idea why... and didn’t want to venture a theory, since every one I could think of sounded absurd.

“I know why.”A new, masculine voice rang out from the darkness. I gasped in alarm, thinking for a moment that Will Price had driven over from his mansion to join us for a nightcap and overheard everything we’d said.

But it was only Garrett who stepped from the shadows, wearing the complimentary robe the hotel had supplied over a pair of ridiculously bright yellow board shorts. Apparently he’d decided to take a break from rehearsing his magic trick to go for an evening dip in the pool.