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.
“My plans aren’t set, but if I’m here, I’ll sign.”
“I won’t say anything until you’re sure. Otherwise Pia O’Brian will have you leading a parade.”
“Why would Pia care?”
“She’s in charge of all the festivals in town. She coordinates the special events and picnics. The book festival is one of her major fundraisers for the town.”
Oh, goodie, she thought glumly. Because Pia was exactly the person she wanted to see.
“I appreciate your discretion.”
A mother with two teenaged daughters walked into the store. Liz ducked behind them, waved at Morgan and left. She’d barely walked down the three steps to the sidewalk when she had to shift suddenly to avoid running into two women walking together.
“Excuse me,” Liz said, her attention still on the bookstore.
“Liz?” a familiar and unwelcome voice asked. “Liz Sutton?”
Liz held in a groan as she turned and met Pia O’Brian’s surprised gaze. Pia who had taunted her daily all through high school. Pia who had mocked her clothes, her love of books, her reputation.
The woman next to Pia squealed. “Liz Sutton? I’m such a huge fan!”
Liz glanced at her, then wished she had stayed home. The squealer was one of Ethan’s sisters, although she had no idea which one. Not that it mattered. Whatever fanlike feelings his sister might have now would be squashed the second she found out about Tyler.
“Hi,” Liz said weakly, doing her best to smile when what she really wanted to do was run. She looked at Ethan’s sister. “I’m sorry, I know you’re one of Ethan’s sisters…”
“Montana.”
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Pia commented, still looking as stylish as ever. Her hair was a little shorter and she looked more twenty-something than teen-queen. Otherwise, she was as perfect as she’d been twelve years ago. “When did you get back? And aren’t you famous? What are you doing here?”
“She’s beyond famous,” Montana gushed. “I can’t believe it. I work at the library part-time. My boss is going to flip when I tell her you’re here.”
Montana was pretty and dark-haired with a sensual smile and a curvy body that made Liz feel just a little inadequate. She didn’t look anything like the stereotype of a quiet librarian.
“It’s a temp job,” Montana admitted, at Liz’s questioning look. “While I figure out what to do with my life. I actually have a degree in Broadcast Journalism. I went to L.A. to be in the news, but I couldn’t find a job beyond making coffee. Plus, it’s just too big-city there for me. I also work part-time at the paper. I do some reporting and…”
Montana reached for Pia and clutched her arm. “Oh, God! The book festival. Liz can be our headliner.” She turned her wide, dark eyes on Liz. “You have to say yes. I swear if I have to put out another display of easy crafts with twigs and branches, I’ll die. Or at the very least lose my sense of humor. You would be a huge draw. Everyone knows you locally, and we could get some real press. Don’t you think Liz would be great?”
“Sure,” Pia responded, studying Liz. “Assuming Liz wants to participate.”
“Of course she does.” Montana glanced at her. “Don’t you?”
“Liz is a big-time author,” Pia acknowledged, her expression unreadable. “New York Times bestsellers in hardcover. A little out of our league.”
Liz couldn’t tell if Pia was helping her or not.
Montana glanced at her watch and groaned. “Well, you can convince her because I have to be at the library in five minutes.” She grinned at Liz. “Welcome back. I love your books. We should get together and talk.”
And then Montana was hurrying away, leaving Liz alone with Pia.
Pia smiled. “Montana is the most enthusiastic person I know, and that’s saying something. While we’d love to have you sign at the festival, you were looking a little trapped. How about if I schedule time to give you my best pitch but I promise not to be offended if you refuse? Not that I won’t call your publicist and beg.”
Liz didn’t understand. Pia was being…nice. Pia was never nice. “I don’t know if I’ll still be in town,” Liz said slowly. “I’m not sure how long I’m staying.”
“You could come back for the signing. Make a weekend of it.” She laughed. “No pressure, I swear. So how are you? I haven’t seen you in forever. It’s been what? Eleven or twelve years since you were last here?”
“Something like that. You’re still in the neighborhood?” Liz did her best to make sure the question sounded as if she were interested rather than judging.
“They can’t get rid of me, although they keep trying.” Pia grinned. “Actually, except for college, I never left. Like Montana, I’m a small-town girl. Unlike her, I’ve found what I want to do.”
“I heard you plan all the festivals.”
“I’m Fool’s Gold’s party girl, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.”
It wasn’t anything Liz could have imagined the other woman doing. Pia had seemed more like someone who would marry well and join the ladies-who-lunch crowd.
“You look great,” Pia told her. “I’ve seen your pictures on the books, but they’re different. More, what? Formal?”
“Stern,” Liz admitted. “What I write requires me to look