Almost Perfect (Fool's Gold #2)(20)

A worry for another day, she told herself. After shoving a few dollars, a credit card and her cell phone into her pocket, she locked the front door of the house and started toward town. Three blocks later, she was walking through Fool’s Gold, noticing the new businesses and old. Morgan’s Books was still there. She remembered the owner from when she’d been growing up. She’d spent hours scanning new titles, writing down which ones she wanted the library to order.

Morgan had been a kind man who’d never minded the time she’d spent, despite the fact that she hadn’t bought a single book. Driven by guilt and maybe a little curiosity as to whether or not he stocked her books, she crossed the street. Before she could step into the store, she saw a window display of her latest hardcover. There was a poster of the cover, a good-sized picture of her, a list of several flattering reviews and a banner proclaiming her a “local author.”

Liz blinked at the display, not sure what to make of it. She’d never hidden where she’d grown up, but she’d never mentioned it, either. There hadn’t been any special events here in town, no book signings. Still, Morgan was treating her like a star.

She pushed open the door and stepped inside. The space was as light and bright as she remembered. There were books everywhere and immediately her fingers itched to hold and open every volume.

She loved books—the weight and smell of them, the feel of the paper against her skin. While an electronic reader took up less room than a stack of books, she had never been able to make the transition. She was a book person.

Morgan’s had a big table displaying new books. Hers sat in the middle, the new hardcover and all four of her backlist books. Several customers browsed. No one seemed to notice her.

If this had been any other bookstore, she would have walked to the information desk and introduced herself, then offered to sign any stock. But this was Fool’s Gold and somehow the regular rules didn’t apply.

Before she could decide what to do, an older woman glanced up and saw her. The woman’s eyebrows went up.

“You’re Liz Sutton,” the woman said in a loud voice. “Oh my God! Morgan! You’ll never guess who just walked into your store.”

Morgan, a tall older man with dark skin and warm brown eyes, stepped from behind the counter and paused at the sight of Liz. A moment later he winked at her. “I have three new books on horses.”

She laughed. The summer she’d turned twelve, she’d been obsessed with horses. Probably because being on one meant the illusion of freedom and being able to ride away. She’d come into his store nearly every day to ask if he had any new books on horses.

“I’ll have to check them out,” she said and crossed to him.

She’d meant to offer her hand to shake, but somehow she found herself hugging him.

“Welcome back, Liz,” he murmured, squeezing her, then holding her at arm’s length and smiling. “You’ve made us all proud. Your books are really good.”

She felt both pleased and a little embarrassed. “Thank you.”

The older woman reached for Liz’s hand. “I’m Sally Banfield. You were in school with my daughter, Michelle. I’m a huge fan. I couldn’t believe it five years ago when Morgan told me you’d written a book. I read it and I was hooked. Your detective is one of my favorite characters ever. She’s just like the people I know, only a little smarter. But she’s real. With problems and everything. I felt so bad her boyfriend got killed in the last book. But he died trying to save her life. It was so romantic. My husband won’t even pick up his own socks, let alone die for anyone.”

Sally frowned. “I don’t think that came out right.”

“I know what you meant,” Liz offered, knowing any fan was a good fan.

“Have you moved back to Fool’s Gold?” Sally asked.

“I, ah, I’m here for a few weeks.”

“I can’t wait to tell all my friends I really met you.” Sally raced toward the door. “You’ve made my day.”

“Thank you.”

When she left, Morgan smiled again. “She means well.”

“I know. And I really do appreciate the enthusiasm.” Liz was willing to overlook the fact that Sally’s daughter Michelle had been one of Liz’s tormentors.

She pointed at the window display. “Thank you for that.”

“You write a great book and everyone wants to hear about a hometown girl doing well. You’re famous here.”

Something Liz had never considered. Her only concern when she’d found out she had to come back had been avoiding Ethan. Now she had to deal with the reality of interacting with an entire town.

“Famous being relative,” she corrected with a laugh.

“We’re having our annual book festival in a couple of months. I provide most of the books through the store. If you’re still around, we’d love you to sign.” He winked again. “Our local authors tend to be self-published, with an emphasis on crafts and legends.”

She had no intention of being anywhere near Fool’s Gold in two months, but Morgan had always been kind to her, so she didn’t want to be rude.

“You’re saying you’ll make more on my books,” she teased.

“You know me. It’s all about the bottom line,” he joked.