Surfside Sisters(42)

“Keely! Keely Green!”

She looked. She stopped dead in her tracks. “Sebastian.”

Sebastian came loping over on his long legs, lean and fit in jeans and a long-sleeved navy blue rugby shirt, a backpack fastened to his shoulders. He took hold of Keely and wrapped her in a tight embrace. He kissed her on the mouth—quickly, in a friendly way.

“What are you doing here?” Keely asked, almost angrily. Emotions battled inside her. She felt defensive, because the last time he saw her, on the Surfside Beach, Keely had been so pathetic, telling him how she envied his family, how she wanted him. Now she didn’t want to seem needy—but she did want him.

Sebastian remained wonderfully relaxed. “I’m going home. I just arrived from Stockholm. I’ve got a long wait until I fly to Nantucket. What are you doing here?”

I’m standing here with every molecule in my body playing Ping-Pong at the sight of you, Keely thought. She said, “I’m going to New York. Sebastian, I sold a book!”

“Get out of town. Really?”

“Really.” She couldn’t hold back a perfectly silly grin of happiness.

“Wow, Keely. That’s absolutely phenomenal! I knew you could do it! Look, I’ve got a long wait for my flight. Let me walk you to your gate.”

“Oh, well, thanks.” Keely felt like a child who’d been given both a bouncy house and a puppy for Christmas. So many dreams were hovering around her, she was surprised she remembered how to walk.

Sebastian took hold of her small rolling suitcase and pulled it along. “Who’s your publisher? And don’t you have to have an agent?”

    “Yes. You need the agent first. And I have one, Sally Hazlitt at Hazlitt and Hopkins. My publisher will be—is—Ransome & Hawkmore. Very big deal. Sebastian, tell me about you. Are you coming home for a visit?”

“Right. Just a quick stop to see the family…and the island. I’ll be sorry not to see you.”

He has no idea what his words are doing to me, Keely thought. He was smiling down at her, warmly, even affectionately, and she swept her eyes to the floor, protecting herself from believing the tenderness in his eyes. She told herself: Right now, I’m a cute little bit of the past to entertain him before his next flight.

When she didn’t respond, Sebastian said, “But you’re on your way off the island, aren’t you? You’re on your way to fame and fortune and all your dreams coming true.”

At that, Keely had to speak. “Maybe not all my dreams.”

Sebastian stopped walking, the rolling case jerking to a stop next to him. “Keely, what do you mean by that?”

They were face-to-face now, and her heart was pounding so hard she felt herself shake with each beat. For a moment she allowed herself to study his face, memorizing each feature for the cold winter nights ahead. He was beautiful.

“Sebastian—”

He pulled her to him, one arm embracing her, and, with the other hand, cupped her head as he brought his lips down to hers. His kiss was warm, both gentle and intense. She sensed he was holding back his passion. “There. I’ve been wanting for you to grow up so I could kiss you like that.”

It was too good to be true. “The way you kiss Ebba?”

A cloud passed over Sebastian’s face. He relaxed his embrace. He grasped the suitcase again. Now his eyes were sad. “That’s complicated.”

“Yes, I thought so,” Keely said, and she tried very hard to smile in a sophisticated, you-can’t-hurt-me-kid kind of way, as if she were Madonna or anyone who kissed thousands of men. “Look, there’s my gate. Thanks for walking me over, Sebastian. Have a great time visiting on Nantucket!” She took her suitcase from him, which involved her hand touching his, which sent the entire Fourth of July fireworks going off inside her, but she was too wary to be hopeful, and she was determined.

    Sebastian said, “Goodbye, Keely.”

She didn’t look back. She didn’t rush. Head high, she walked to her gate, to the plane that would take her to New York.



* * *



—

Isabelle had raved about the small, elegant hotel she and Gordon stayed in whenever they wanted to just “zip down” to the city to see a play or an art opening, so Keely had made a reservation there. The clerks at the Empire Hotel gave her the key to her room even though it was only one o’clock, two hours before check-in. Gratefully, Keely parked her luggage, freshened her face, and gave herself a pep talk before heading back to the street and hailing a taxi.

The Hazlitt and Hopkins Literary Agency offices were in one of the towering Lego block structures that kept the Wall Street area shady. After Keely signed in, she was directed to the bank of elevators on the left. She rode up to the fifteenth floor and stepped out into a great open space of glass and light.

For a moment, she stood there, looking around, taking a breath, reminding herself she wasn’t dreaming.

“May I help you?” asked a harried-looking receptionist.

“I’m Keely Green. I have an appointment with Sally Hazlitt—”

“Keely!” A tall, buxom woman with masses of curly red hair arrived. “Barbara, this is our new star, Keely Green. Ransome & Hawkmore Publishing just made a two-book offer.”

Before Keely could do more than smile hello, Sally whisked her off down the hall and into a glass-walled office.