Page 65 of Wish You Were Her
Jonah frowned. “That wouldn’t be the safest thing for her. It’s unsettling that she’s in town without security as it is. And that she was announced so publicly during the launch.”
He felt his boss glance at him. “I was only joking, son.”
Jonah shook himself. “Sorry. Yes. We will definitely need something to keep them calm if she doesn’t show.”
“Funny you mention security though,” George went on, lowering his voice as they both watched Allegra chat to the young author on one of the sofas, putting her completely at ease. “I’veworried a lot about that. Her mother and I discussed it when she suddenly decided to spend the summer here.”
“It’s a miracle everyone has kept her presence quiet,” Jonah acknowledged, thrilled that he and George seemed, at last, to be getting along again. “Can’t stop people staring like losers, but it’s lucky that nothing has got out.”
“There are social contracts in this town,” George said, conspiratorially. “People know to keep their mouths shut; they don’t want even more outsiders descending on us. This is the only time of year that they tolerate it. But you’re right, we have been lucky.”
“Maybe this could be her home in the long run,” Jonah heard himself say. “If it’s safer, quieter for her.”
George examined him, suspicion starting to bleed into his expression. “But what about you?”
Jonah blinked. “What about me?”
“Surely you don’t want to stay here for much longer? What about an education? A life? A girlfriend?”
“I can have two of those things here. And higher education isn’t for me.”
“Come on, Jonah,” George said, and Jonah was shocked by the irritation in his employer’s voice. “You’re too smart to stay here and never see the world.”
“I work in a bookshop,” Jonah reminded him. “The world comes to me. I don’t need to find it.”
“And that’s a nice, romantic idea. But you need to live your own life, have experiences outside of the things that you read.”
Whatever Jonah had been about to say next was swallowed up, because gasps could suddenly be heard all throughout the green room. Jonah and George looked over to the doorway and both were struck with silence.
It was Pamela H. J. Wilcox.
She was tiny and slender, wearing a clean but worn white cotton suit with one bright teal bangle on her left wrist and a pair of tennis shoes that were slightly scuffed. Her long silvery hair was tied back in a sensible braid and the only thing glamorous about her was her dark sunglasses, not unlike the pair that Allegra wore.
The famous recluse ignored people’s stares and astonishment, choosing instead to survey the room, and when her sharp gray eyes landed on Allegra Brooks, her thin lips twitched into an almost-smile.
“There she is,” she said, her Irish accent full of warmth. She held out her arms and made her way toward Allegra, ignoring the small crowd of onlookers. Jonah and George watched the two embrace, Allegra towering over the small woman.
“So glad you could make it,” Allegra said, throwing Jonah a quick but triumphant look over her shoulder.
“Only because it was you who asked,” Pamela said in response, loudly enough for everyone to hear. She made her way over to the table of food, eyeing the mushroom tarts and the baked goods donated by Jonah’s mother.
It was only when volunteers started to approach Pamela that Jonah realized she had come without an escort of any kind. No publicist or publisher. She was there, quite happily, by herself.
“This is really happening,” he told Simon, who had shown up to work at exactly the right moment. “We need to get someone outside to corral the audience once they arrive.”
“They’re already starting to queue, saw them on my way in,” Simon said. “So, she’s really here!”
“Yeah,” Jonah said dazedly. “Allegra did it. She actually did it.”
“Well, let’s be fair, Allegra has probably got one hell of a little black book.”
Jonah allowed himself to take in all of Allegra as she laughed at something Pamela was saying. Her long hair with its streaks of gold, her ears that stuck out just a little. Her left thumb and forefinger, which were often stroking together in a soothing motion. Stimming—if Jonah did not know better.
When Allegra had first come to Lake Pristine, he had been struck by how beautiful she was. Now, there was so much more about her that made him admire her. Her quiet confidence in saving the day and getting Wilcox to come. Her generosity in pledging to do so in the first place. Her interest in listening to other people. She was the greatest conversationalist he had ever witnessed—she remembered tiny details about people and spoke to them with such curiosity. It made him realize how closed off he had become.
He respected her intelligence—and her short fuse. Her occasional flashes of temper were always followed by a micro expression that conveyed her regret that he found endearing. He wished he could see it more often.
It had started to dawn on him, since being stood up by one person only to have his dream girl show up instead, that he denied himself a lot of chances. If something required vulnerability, Jonah would become avoidant. He had taken a risk, showing up to Pete’s Cafe and letting all of Lake Pristine see him sitting there alone with a copy ofMiddlemarchand a red rose.
