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Bernadette side-eyed me as she lifted her lunch plate. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

“Price, of course. You know the real reason why he wants all these young girls around, don’t you?”

“Why, no, Garrett.” Bernadette took a bite of watermelon kebab. “But I’m sure you’re going to tell us.”

“Research!Will Price wants to make the move into writing children’s fiction!”

Bernadette and I exchanged glances. Garrett must have noticed that we were smirking, since he cried, “Oh,come on!How can you not see it? It couldn’t be more obvious. It’s why he’s paying you, Jo, such a huge stipend to be here. I’m surprised you two didn’t catch on this morning during our panels. He couldn’t have been more thrilled that Molly went into labor! It gave him the opportunity to sit there and grill us about what it’s like to write for kids.”

I choked a little on the sip of wine I’d taken. Apparently Garrett took this for disbelief, since he insisted, “You must have noticed how competitive Will is! He’s already conquered writing for adults, so why wouldn’t he try to take over the world of children’s lit, too? God.” Garrett shook his head at what he perceived as our extreme stupidity. “The truth has been staring you two in the face this whole time, and you refuse to see it.”

Bernadette blinked at Garrett one or two times, then burst out laughing. She tried flinging a hand over her mouth both to keep from being overheard by Kellyjean and the Snappettes and to keep Garrett from noticing how hilarious she found his statement, but it didn’t work.

“I don’t see what’s so funny.” Garrett looked wounded. “You know I’m right.”

“I’ll tell you what’s funny,” I said. Unlike Bernadette, I wasn’t laughing. I wasn’t smiling, not even a little bit. “Last night you were insisting that the reason I’d been given such a big stipend was to lure me here because Will is in love with me. Now you’re saying the only reason Will’s hanging around with any of us is because he wants our help to break into children’s lit—as if he’d need any help with that. Will could write the alphabet on a piece of paper and someone would publish it. Get your story straight, Garrett. If this is an example of how you plot your books, I don’t understand why anyone reads them at all.”

“Wha—?” Garrett looked even more hurt. “Jo. Where’s all this animosity coming from? Are your feelings hurt or something, because Will might not actually be that into you after all? I’m only trying towarnyou girls that the guy is up to no good, and you—”

“Oh, God, Garrett. Shutupalready.”

I must have spoken a little too loudly, since Chloe leaned her head around the back of her sun lounger and asked, “Hey ya. Is everything all right back there?”

“Oh, yes,” I called to her. “Sorry. Everything’s fine. Just talking about books.”

Garrett was glaring at me. I had clearly lost a friend—if he and I had ever been friends. But I felt like that ship had sailed—to coin a phrase—yesterday morning on the author bus when he’d so aggressively sang at me with his ukulele.

“Oh, books!” Chloe sounded excited. “My favorite subject!Are you sure you have everything you need? Can I get anyone more fruit kebabs?”

“No, we’re all good, sunshine.” Garrett tipped his hard seltzer toward Chloe in a toast. “You and your brother are the perfect hosts.”

“Oh, thanks for that,” Chloe said with a wide grin. “Cheers.”

Then her head disappeared back behind the lounger.

“Well, since you two seem to object so much to my company, I guess I’ll go spend time with people who actually appreciate it,” Garrett huffed at us. Then he began stalking over to the women on the sun loungers.

“Garrett,” Bernadette called after him. “Garrett, no, wait—”

But it was too late. Garrett sat down, set his drink in a cup holder, and began strumming his ukulele.

“Hey, ladies,” he said to Kellyjean, Sharmaine, and Chloe. “You know what you remind me of, lying there, looking so pretty in the sun? A little sea shanty I happen to know. ‘Farewell and adieu unto you Spanish ladies. Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain—’”

“Oh, God.” Bernadette looked at me, all signs of humor gone. “Now look what you’ve done.”

“Me?You’re the one who laughed in his face.”

“I know.” Bernadette seemed regretful. “I think I’ve had too much rosé.”

“Well, I’m starting to think Garrett might be one ofthose.”

“One of what?”

“You know, one of those guys who insists every other guyin the room is no good, so he can make himself look great in comparison.”

Bernadette gazed at Garrett thoughtfully. “If that’s his goal, it’s definitely not working.”

“Why don’t you keep an eye on him, while I go warn our host?”