Page 49 of The Single Dad Project

“ICAN’TBELIEVEthe town is throwing us a picnic,” Mira mused, holding a hand to her forehead and shading her eyes. The producer laughed. “Just when I start to think this town can’t get any more perfect.” Dropping her arm, she squinted at Flo. “Go ahead, you can tell me. What’s the seedy underbelly of Rose Bend? Spill.”

Grinning, Flo steadied her camera on the tripod and shot Mira side-eye. She and the producer had become friendly over the last few weeks of filming. Mira and some of the crew had even joined Flo at Road’s End a couple of times.

“If I can trust you,” she said, lowering her voice and crooking a finger at the woman, beckoning her closer. Mira’s eyes widened, sparkling with humor and probably the anticipation of some tea. “You didn’t hear it from me, but you know Mrs. Roman over at The Cat and Chew?”

“The owner of that cat tea shop? Yes, sweet lady. I mean, I’m not one for sitting down and eating while a bunch of cats stare me down like they’re plotting my death, but—” she shrugged, adjusting her headset “—cute place and cuter lady.”

The Cat and Chew, the cat café Mrs. Anna Roman had opened a couple of years ago, had become one of the most popular places in town. But Flo was a fish person. Not that she had any, but still... Flo was firmly on the same page as Mira.

“Well, Mrs. Roman moved into town, and she might be this sophisticated, elegant businesswoman by day, but once night falls...” Flo trailed off dramatically.

“Yeah?” Mira breathed, leaning closer.

“She locks herself in that store and...”

“What?”Mira pressed, impatience lining the other woman’s voice.

“Bathes herself in the blood of virgins so she maintains that porcelain smooth complexion. Now the town council is set to discuss an ordinance limiting people to one virgin sacrifice per quarter. Bad for the tourism.”

Mira blinked. Then a loud crack of laughter burst from her, and she pointed at Flo.

“Okay, good one. Just remember payback is a bitch and I have a television crew at my disposal.”

Flo winced. “See, you’re not playing fair.” Turning back to her camera, she fired off a couple shots of the surrounding trees, gazebo and creek in the distance. “I love my hometown, and though I love to travel, I also love returning home. But it’s not perfect. We have our issues, too, like bigger cities, just not on as large a scale. Still, we’re not exempt from society’s problems.”

“Name one,” Mira challenged.

Flo straightened, arching an eyebrow. “Okay. As we speak the local librarian is organizing a rally to protest the banning of books by a small but virulent group who want to remove ‘inappropriate’ material from the library. In other words, the books are too Black, too gay, too trans, too other.”

“Get out.” Interest gleamed in Mira’s eyes as she crossed her arms. “When is the rally supposed to be taking place?”

“In a week or two.”

“And can anyone join? Including, say, a producer and a film crew who are off the clock and might be walking near the library with their cameras?”

Flo laughed. “That’s very specific. And yes, anyone can join. The more people show up, the better. Including said producer, film crew and cameras. I think Remi—the head librarian—would love that. Beck Dansing and I.M. Kelly have already agreed to participate, which, hopefully, will bring even more people out. But I’ll get you firmer details as soon as I have them.”

“Great.” Mira grinned. “If you could also give me the contact info for the librarian, I would be more than happy to pass it along to a friend of mine. She’s a field reporter out of a station in Albany. I can’t guarantee anything, but I think she would love this kind of community interest story. Especially with this book-banning bullshit happening all over the country. And throw in two very popularNew York Timesbestselling authors? Oh yeah, like I said, I can’t promise, but I see this grabbing her interest.”

“That would be amazing. I’ll send you Remi’s info now.” Excitement and delight sparked inside Flo as she whipped out her cell, pulled up the librarian’s contacts and texted them to the producer. “And you wonder why the town wants to throw you a picnic,” Flo teased, returning her phone to her back pocket.

“Whatever.” Mira snorted. “Let me get inside. We’re still filming in the kitchen—good morning, Adam,” she broke off, turning to wave to the man who might’ve left Flo’s apartment last night, but not her thoughts or dreams. “And who’s this little sweetheart?”

Flo spun around, her gaze crashing into Adam’s bright one before falling to his daughter, who grinned widely.

“Hi, Flo!” Justine yelled.

“Hey, Jussy,” Flo greeted at a lower volume and walked over to them.

What was going on? He’d never brought Justine to work with him before.

“Morning, Mira,” he said to the producer with a dip of his head. “This is my daughter, Justine. She’ll be visiting with me today.”

The innocuous words somehow didn’t match up with the vein of steel threading through his voice. Flo frowned, briefly studying his impassive expression, then she shifted her attention back to Justine.

“Hi, Justine, it’s nice to meet you.” Mira squatted down and stretched out her hand. “A pretty name for a very pretty girl. My name’s Mira, and I work with your dad and Flo.”

“Hi,” Justine said, and in an uncharacteristic show of shyness—well, as long as Flo had known her—the little girl crowded closer to her father’s leg.

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