“Since you’re an author, I can see why.”
“I’m circling a story that takes place in a bookstore.”
“Anything you can share?”
“There isn’t much to share yet. The story’s still a bit vague.” His eyes grew intense. “But if I have questions, could I…?”
“Of course,” she replied. “Any bookstore questions you have, ask away.”
And then, for the second time in a row, he smiled.
And this time, thanks to the store’s warm lighting, she was able to really see it. It was a nice smile, she was pleased to discover. It had a warmth to it and seemed to open him up, offering a glimpse of the person behind his mask of serious.
It took a few seconds for her to realize that she was smiling back — and that the two of them were just standing there, not moving, frozen in place, gazing at each other with big grins on their faces.
She heard a gasp and turned to find their eager videographer gaping at them in shock, eyes wide, looking at them like she’d just discovered buried treasure.
“Eva, are you okay?”
The girl let out a delighted laugh. “Me? Oh, yes, I’m fine. I’mtotallyfine. Wow.” She laughed again, her eyes flashing with undisguised glee. “The three of us? We are gonna have so muchfun.”
Oh, dear.What had just happened wasnot good. Penny knewall too well the dangerous notions ricocheting through Eva’s head. Like most folks raised in Heartsprings Valley, the girl possessed a powerful gift —a talent for meddling —that, when activated, was capable of all manner of chaos.
Most folks knew how to wield their power subtly. But Eva, who lived life in the sledgehammer zone?
Penny’s stomach twisted into knots. A whirlwind of meddling —unruly, unpredictable, untamed — had just been unleashed and was barreling their way.
“So, Mr. Bedford,” Eva began, “you live in New York, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Did you drive up with your wife or girlfriend?” she continued, fulfilling Penny’s prophesy with terrifying speed.
Daniel’s eyes widened. “No, I drove up by myself.”
Penny jumped into the fray, determined to at least try to shield Daniel from the approaching storm. “Eva, I thought you wanted us to pretend you’re not here.”
“Oh, I do want that,” Eva said cheerfully. “Except when I don’t. If I ask questions, you can answer me.”
“It’s just that —”
“See, what we’re doing now, talking back and forth —it’s called a ‘confessional’ shot.”
“A confessional shot?”
“You know, the director or producer asks the person on camera a bunch of questions to get their reaction to something, to help the director tell the story to the audience.”
“I can see that, but —”
“So as I was asking, Mr. Bedford, do you have a wife in New York? A girlfriend?”
“Eva,” Penny began. “That’s not —”
“Hey,” Eva said brightly, “this is just me being casual, you know, making small talk. No agenda at all. It’s important to know my client, right?”
Penny shook her head. “Some people may not be comfortable sharing that kind of information.” To Daniel, she added, “As you can see, at times Eva can be a bit, um, forward.”
“Oh, totally,” Eva agreed immediately. “People tell me that all the time.”
