Stargazing (The Walker Family Book 2) (3 page)

“You read that stuff?”

“Don’t you?” Pearl added in surprise.

Bethany shook her head. “No. I don’t. I read to enlighten myself. Learn something new. I certainly don’t need someone’s imaginary solar system filling my head. I have enough crap going on in there. Hell, I have a therapist.”

Lydia pursed her lips. “That’s not your fault. Don’t ever think it is. Just because some maniac goes after you doesn’t mean you can’t open yourself up to possibilities. Christ, maybe you should read a book. You should read some raunchy erotic romance.”

“Yeah, you know that one where…” Her words were cut short as Susan emerged again from the dressing room, and again, nodded at the dress.

“This one. This is it!”

Bethany smiled, but sat back against the couch. Seven dresses, and the one Pearl was keeping from her. This was going to be a very long night. Maybe she should pick up Kent Black’s book. Perhaps it would put her right to sleep when she got home.

Chapter Three

Kent had driven up and down the streets near the coffee shop looking for the car that the redhead had driven. He’d seen one that he thought looked like it, but it was parked outside a barbershop and he was sure that wasn’t where she’d gone.

It was useless. People floated in and out of his life. He was used to that. Some thought he was intellectually fascinating, while others criticized his thought process and said his creations were simply preposterous.

He wasn’t some scientist. He never claimed to be. He was a guy who had a wild imagination and somehow it turned into a career.

That thought made him laugh as he pulled to the stoplight. What would his third grade teacher Mrs. C. think of his success now? She certainly hadn’t appreciated his drawings on the back of his homework back then.
Kent has his head in the clouds again,
she’d say to his mother.
He’s never going to be useful in society if all he thinks about are aliens and time travel.

Kent looked in the seat next to him where a box of books sat. On the cover was a fantastic rendition of a drawing he’d done and Yance O’Connell had turned it into a mesmerizing piece of art. Yeah, Mrs. C. could eat erasers for all he cared. It might be funny to send her a check that could put her pension to shame.

The driver behind him honked his horn and Kent realized he was sitting at a green light. He eased through the intersection and headed toward the hotel.

He’d gather his laundry and then head out for that haircut he needed before tomorrow. Maybe he’d head back to where he thought he’d seen her car. It was the first actual barbershop he’d seen.

An hour later he was driving back down the street where he’d thought he’d seen her car, but this time he was looking for the barber pole.

There, on the right.

Kent slowed. There was an open space right behind the car he’d thought was hers. Whoever’s car that was must work in the area.

He pulled into the space and parked. The basket of laundry in the back seat caught his eye now. He’d meant to find the Laundromat first so he didn’t have to wait all night for his clothes to wash at the hotel laundry room.

Where was his head?

He knew where it was. It was with that redhead. Princess Carlotta, he’d named her in his book. Or he’d jotted down the name when it came to him. She’d be a very popular character. The teenage boys would want her and the girls would want to be her.

Yep, he was pathetic, he thought as he opened the door and climbed from the car.

A woman, as fine as the redhead, would come into his life someday. He’d been patient. He wasn’t desperate. He was hopeful—yes that’s what he was.

It was in his blood that was all. His parents had been married for nearly forty-five years and his sister was following right along in their footsteps. She’d been married now nearly seven years and had three kids. There was rumor they were thinking about another.

Kent had loved and lost. What girl wasn’t impressed when he wanted to go to a Star Wars event for their “anniversary” weekend? Truth was, he hadn’t found that woman yet. Zoe had shaken her head, rolled her eyes, and said she was done when he’d mentioned it. She had been his longest relationship. Two full years.

He laughed at himself as he stepped into the barbershop. There was no hope for him.

There was only one man cutting hair, but there were four old men sitting in the waiting area. None of them looked as though they needed a cut, he observed.

“I’ll be with you in about ten minutes,” the barber said as he cut the hair of the man in the chair. “Have a seat.”

Kent wedged himself into the empty seat between a frail man resting his hand on a walking cane and a generously sized man who wore overalls of all things.

A TV in the corner of the shop was turned to a basketball game and all men were enthralled.

“Did you see that?” The man in the far chair slapped his hand on his knee. “Dad-gum!”

“Luck,” another man said. “That boy has no skill.”

“You bite your tongue.”

“Oh, you think you know the game, Mr. Golf Pro?”

The large man to Kent’s left laughed, but never took his eyes off the TV.

The debate continued until the man in the barber’s chair stood, paid his bill, and walked out of the store. Kent figured he only had to wait out the next four men and he could leave—though this was a good opportunity for character development.

“Hey, kid. I’m ready for you,” the barber said and all of the men looked at him.

“We’re here for the game,” the man with the cane said.

Kent nodded and took his place in the chair.

After telling the barber what he wanted he simply observed the men and their banter. It was fascinating.

The barber began the cut, talking to him and then talking to the other men. They were fascinated with the game and less than amused by Kent’s career. It was refreshing, actually.

Midway through his cut Kent noticed the woman—the redhead in the flowery yellow dress. She walked across the street and to the car he’d thought he’d recognized.

“Whoa!” The barber said placing his hand on his shoulder. “You move like that again, I might cut your ear off, son.”

“Sorry. I didn’t…I saw…” He saw her car drive away.

The four men whose attention had been directed at the screen watched the redhead drive away.

“She’s something,” the man with the cane said with a whistle. “I’d have jumped from my seat too.”

“California plates,” another larger man said. “Must be lost this far south.” They all laughed.

Kent hadn’t even noticed the out of state plates on the car. Certainly she wouldn’t be around town too much longer then.

“Friend of yours?” the barber asked as he continued on with the cut.

“No. Saw her earlier and she caught my attention.”

“Can’t blame you. You got Texas plates on your van. What has you here?”

Funny, they were equally as observant. “My job.”

“Right. You write books.”

Again, the man didn’t sound impressed.

“Right,” Kent repeated. The girl was lost, but tomorrow a group of book readers would be impressed by him. Lydia Morgan, the woman who had set up the signing, had been very fascinated by him—she’d said so. He could use some attention. Traveling alone—sleeping alone—eating alone was becoming, well, lonely. It was seriously time to think about finding a place or heading back to Texas. What were the odds there would be a
third chance is the charm
encounter?

When the haircut was finished, he generously tipped the barber, who whistled too.

“You come back any time,” he said with a grin.

“If I’m in town I certainly will.” He waved goodbye to the men and headed back to his pathetic mini-van.

Kent looked around for the promise of a Laundromat, but no luck. However, the store that the redhead had walked out of caught his eyes.
Crap!
A bridal store. He might as well go home to Texas.

~*~

At a stoplight, Bethany pulled her hair up into a ponytail and took a glance in the mirror on the back of her visor. She studied herself for a moment longer. Did she look happy?

When the light turned green, she closed the mirror and drove on.

She felt happy. She had new friends and was bonding with family. There wasn’t a critical eye on her every moment judging if she was too tall, too thin, too redheaded. But something was missing.

Actually, she knew what it was. There had been this jealous buzz running through her since she’d arrived in Georgia after her grandfather’s funeral. Her sisters were close to each other—and to their mother. Her brothers were close to each other—and to their mother. Even their mothers were good friends. Bethany stood out like a sore thumb.

Her cousin Eric had taken her under wing, but even he’d dubbed them the bastards of the family. His mother had past and so had hers. His father had married his mother out of pity, it had been said. Her father hadn’t even married her mother.

She understood why now. Her mother’s indiscretion with the psycho that tried to kill Bethany and Eric had her father keeping his distance from her for her own safety.

Officer Douglas Brant was locked up now. There was no reason to worry about him.

She was bonding with her sister Pearl and her brother Jake. Eric’s fiancée, Susan, had become her best friend and his cousin Lydia had become a dear friend as well. It wasn’t as if she were alone. Heck, she even had lunch plans with her father next week.

But still she felt as though something was missing.

Bethany pulled up in front of the house she shared with Susan and Eric. They’d planted some flowers in the pots that lined the walk and they were blooming. The buds on the trees were beginning to bloom as well. It smelled heavenly. Susan had already told her she could stay in the house as long as she liked once Susan and Eric moved back into his house after it was rebuilt.

The thought comforted her. She had a home. Even in L.A., where she’d grown up, they never really had a home. Her mother moved them from one friend’s apartment to another depending on their financial situation.

Tears began to sting in her throat. She missed her mother horribly—though she really didn’t know why. Perhaps it was because she had been all Bethany had ever had in her life.

Maybe that’s what this gloomy mood was all about. Family surrounded her, but the one person that had always been there was missing. She’d passed away before Christmas.

She batted against the tears that threatened to fall. She couldn’t go back now. This was where she was in her life. Tomorrow she’d don the apron that said
Susan Hayes Catering,
with the dangling strawberries on it, and she’d smile as she served at the book club. In time she’d etch out her own place in Georgia with her family. Everything took time.

The thought made her smile as she opened the door to her car and stepped out into the street.

A police cruiser turned the corner and slowed as it approached her. She knew Douglas Brant was locked away and it wasn’t his cruiser pulling toward her. That didn’t stop her heart from leaping into her throat and her hands from shaking.

The car pulled to a stop behind hers and Officer Smyth stepped out. He was smiling and it wasn’t his sleazy, pick-up-on-you smile.

“Ms. Waterbury.”

“Officer Smyth. What can I do for you?”

“I was just checking up on you. I saw you drive by.”

“I’m fine.”

“I heard Eric’s house is almost finished. I’m glad they were able to rebuild.”

“It’ll be nice when it’s done.” She watched him take off his hat and run his hand over the rim. “Was there something else?”

He shrugged. “It’s kinda childish really. I got word that you and Ms. Hayes were catering a lunch tomorrow for a book club.”

“That’s right. There’s no danger to us, is there?” It was a silly sounding question, but the man who tried to kill her was a police officer. Her trust level was at an all-time low.

“No. No,” he said shaking his head. “I’m a big fan of Kent Black’s.”

She let her shoulders drop. “You want a book signed?”

“It would mean the world to me.”

“Why don’t you just stop by?” She couldn’t believe she was inviting him. Lydia was going to come unglued. The man had hit on her for years and she detested him. “I think he’s going to speak for the first hour and then mingle and sign books the rest of the time.”

He bit down on his bottom lip with his teeth and his brows drew in. “Lydia isn’t going to like that.”

“Don’t ask her out then. I’ll make it okay. Just come by.”

His face softened. “I really appreciate this.”

She actually believed he did. “No problem.”

“You have yourself a good day. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, placing his hat back on his head and returning to his car.

Well, that was pleasant, she thought.

Bethany closed her car door and headed to the house. Kent Black, the name hummed in her brain. Who’d have thought that everyone she knew was into some sci-fi writer? She certainly didn’t see that coming. What was the big deal about him?

She shut the door and set her bag on the table in the living room.

Susan’s copy of his book caught her attention. The hardcover was protected with a shiny dust jacket.
Quantum a novel by Kent Black.

She ran her hand over the raised front. There had to be six hundred pages in that book, she thought as she flipped the pages.

Reading wasn’t her strongest skill, but as an actress she couldn’t admit that. As a child, she’d struggled with dyslexia, but she’d fought that battle and won. Now she just had to take her time.

Bethany turned the book over and came face to face with Kent Black.

Dark hair. Dark eyes. Pale complexion. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest as if he was superior, but his face didn’t convey that. He looked shy, that was it. As if the photo itself made him nervous. She couldn’t help but think he looked vaguely familiar, but she certainly hadn’t met him.

Bethany looked at her watch. Susan and Eric were going out to his parents’ house for dinner and wedding planning. Bethany had turned down the invitation to join them. That meant she was alone all evening.