tugged by the cutest boy in class. She was ridiculously grateful for the attention, even if he was taunting her.
Five minutes with this guy and she’d regressed to junior high. Just for a moment, she wished she could be someone else. That was probably unhealthy in the extreme—to be with a person who made you dissatisfied with yourself.
She patted the papers on her clipboard. It was always a safe bet to get down to business with someone who made you nervous. “I’ve made you copies of the audition schedule and the rehearsal times and—”
“Thanks. I’ll look at it later. Give me a break, I just rolled into town.”
“Where are you staying?” she asked.
“At a place by the lake. It belongs to some friends who go to St. Croix for the winter. Hell, I’d like to be in St. Croix right about now.”
“I hope you settle in quickly,” she said. “This Christmas pageant has to come together in a shockingly short amount of time.”
“And yet it does,” he said, “like a miracle, every year.”
“So it’s been your experience that a miracle occurs.”
“Hasn’t failed us yet. I’m not exactly new to this,” he said.
She was aware of his entire history with the pageant, including the infraction that had earned him his sentence of community service. It was a known fact in the town of Avalon that Eddie Haven had begun his involvement in the town’s annual pageant by judicial order. Following a terrible Christmas Eve accident, he’d been sentenced to help with the program, year in and year out. “It’s been my experience that miracles work out better when they’re preceded by a lot of hard work and preparation.”
“Me, I got faith,” he said easily.
She regarded him skeptically. “Are you a churchgoing man?”
He laughed heartily at that. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m a real regular.” He toned down the laughter a bit. “Trust me, I can deal with the pageant without divine intervention, okay? And how did you end up with this job, anyway? Did you volunteer or were you drafted? Or maybe you’re a felon like me.”
“Nobody’s a felon like you.”
“Ouch,” he said. “Okay, I can tell, you’re going to be a barrel of laughs.”
“It’s not my job to amuse you.”
“Come on, be a sport. Tell me more about yourself, Maureen.”
“Why should I? You’ve already declared me a boring person obsessed with books and cats—”
“I never said boring. I never said obsessed. The books were a no-brainer and the cats—every chick likes cats. Lucky guess. Come on. I really want to know. Are you from around here?”
He did this thing, she realized. This magnetic thing that made her want to…she wasn’t sure what. Give him little offerings from herself. It was the strangest sensation. Strange, and maybe dangerous. “I was born and raised here,” she said. “I went to college in Brockport, came back and became the town librarian.” She swallowed. “No wonder you said I was boring.”
“Hey. I did not say boring. And it sounds to me like you didn’t have to go looking for your heart’s desire.”
She actually had gone looking, but she wasn’t about to own up to that, not to him.
“And what about you?” she asked, feeling bold. “Are you looking for your heart’s desire?”
“No need. I know what my heart desires. It’s just a question of finding it.”
“Really? And what is that?”
“I just met you. I can’t be telling you that.”
During their conversation, something unexpected occurred. Against her will, she started to like him. As a person, not just as an amazing-looking guy, a guy who was so far out of her league, he might as well be on another planet.
Planet of the Fangirls, thought Maureen, as three women approached their table. They were all nudging each other and exchanging bashful smiles.
“Excuse me,” one of them said. And it was completely clear they weren’t addressing Maureen. “You’re…Eddie Haven, right?”
“The Eddie Haven?” her friend clarified.
He gave them an easy smile. “I guess that would be me.”
“We thought so. You look the same as you did in that movie.”
“Oh. Not good,” he said.
“No, you were adorable.” The three women looked jubilant. “And we saw you on Extra just last week.”
Here was something that always seemed to be true. Attractive women tended to hang out together. Each of these had the looks of a former cheerleader—brighteyed and smiling, in jeans and high-heeled boots, fitted sweaters.
“So…would you mind if we got a picture together?”
“Actually, I’m kind of in the middle of something—”
“Just a cell phone pic,” she said, whipping out an iPhone and thrusting it at Maureen. “Here, would you take it?”
Before Maureen could reply, one of the women showed her how to point and shoot. The three draped themselves around Eddie and—it had to be said—he lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Thanks. You were really cool about that.” The woman addressed Eddie as she saved the image on the phone. “And I know you must hear this all the time, but I loved you in that movie. I still love you in that movie, every time it airs.”
“Thanks,” said Eddie. “Nice of you to say so.”
She handed him a card. “Here’s my number. For, you know, if you ever feel like hanging out.”
“You bet.”
The three took off, putting their heads together and scurrying away, giggling like schoolgirls. Maureen felt a little stunned. The woman had hit on him right in front of Maureen. For all they knew, Maureen could be on a date with him. She wasn’t, but still. The thing that hurt—and she hated the fact that it hurt—was knowing the women looked at her and clearly did not consider, even for a moment, that she might be…with him. His date. His girlfriend. Instead, they had treated her as if she was his assistant or secretary.
“Sorry about that,” Eddie said. “Now, where were we?”
Maureen shook her head. “I have no idea.” She’d never witnessed anything quite like that before. It was slightly shocking, like an ambush. “That happens to you a lot, doesn’t it? People—women—just appear out of the blue and ask for an autograph or picture.”
“Not sure what you mean by a lot,” he said.
“Has it happened before?”
His
