Page 67 of Take Me Home for Christmas

“The publisher you just mentioned?”

“One and the same.”

Kitty stared out the window, watching the two women approach the bookshop next door. “What’s she doing in Chances Inlet?”

Given that they were striding toward his favorite hiding space, he had to guess Helen was looking for him. That could only mean one thing: part of his plan was already in motion.

“Not sure,” he told Kitty. “But I’m going to find out.”

He left through Knotical’s back door and hurried in through the delivery entrance of the bookstore. The storage room butted up to the small reading nook Everett had commandeered the past couple of weeks. He stood behind the curtain separating the two rooms and listened.

“It’s pretty crowded here today.” Gidget was trying her best to cover for him. “He might have gone back to the inn to work.”

He swore he could hear Helen grinding her teeth.

“I just left there. No one has seen him all day. Or yesterday, for that matter.”

“West prefers to work at his own pace. You really don’t have anything to worry about, though, Mrs. Keneally. He’s assured me he’ll be done by the end of the year, and I believe him.”

Peeking through the crack in the drapes, he could see Gidget crossing her fingers behind her back.

“That’s your first mistake.” Helen snorted. “I believed him when he said he’d have the book to me two months ago. Now he’s reneging on his option for a second book. The man’s word is no good.” She pointed a finger at Gidget. “You had one job. That was to make sure the man delivers his book on time.”

“And I will.”

Helen’s laugh lacked any humor. “You don’t even know where the damn man is! I should listen to my lawyers and sue the idiot. He’s lost his mojo. West is never going to finish that book.”

“He hasn’t lost his mojo.”

Everett was so stunned by Gidget’s staunch defense of him, he froze in place.

“In fact, the book is finished,” she lied. “He’s taking these last few weeks to polish it up.”

A charged silence fell over the nook.

“He told you this?” Helen asked. Her tone indicated she didn’t believe one word her employee said.

Gidget nodded. “Even better. I’ve read through the final chapters. They are as captivating as the rest of the book. You’ll be pleased. So will your readers.”

Some of the steam seemed to leave Helen. “You do realize what you stand to lose here, Elinor?”

“I’m a McAlister, Mrs. Keneally. We don’t lose.”

Everett resisted the urge to jump from behind the curtain and applaud her bravado. Or chastise her for her ill-advised recklessness. He suspected it was the latter and not the former making her spout her nonsense. Gidget was desperate for the carrot Helen dangled on a string. She’d rather chase a promotion than settle for love.

He hated how much that disappointed him.

Still, there was no excuse for letting her cover for him by lying to Helen. His beef was with the publisher. There was no reason Gidget’s career should be collateral damage, whether he thought it was the right choice or not. He was just about to step through the curtain when she spoke up again.

“You mentioned afternoon tea at the inn. It’s just about that time. I know my mother would love to thank you in person for sending me home for the holidays.”

Well played, Gidget. Well played.

It was uncanny how similar in behavior she was to Keeley. His late wife had always been an enchantress at persuasion. Keeley led with her big heart, too. His gut clenched.

And look where that got her.

He shook his head trying to refocus his attention on the conversation on the other side of the curtain. Helen hesitated, likely weighing Gidget’s sincerity. The publisher had no alternative but to trust her, though. Especially since Everett had backed Helen against the proverbial wall. He pondered his next move while the two women walked out of the bookstore.

---