Page 11 of Piece By Piece

The crinkle of plastic wrap being removed.

She smiled.

CHAPTER 2

The Inn at Seagrove had a dining room that could seat about thirty people comfortably, but right now it held twelve, and none of these people seemed capable of staying on topic for more than about thirty seconds.

Liza sat at the long oak table with a glass of sweet tea and a growing sense of amusement as she watched everything happening around her.

She’d been in Seagrove for only five days, but somehow she had ended up at a planning committee meeting for the annual summer festival. She wasn’t totally sure how. One minute she’d been at the bookstore pricing picture books, and the next thing she knew, Dixie had handed her a flyer and said, “Be at the inn at six. Julie needs warm bodies.”

Julie was at the head of the table, and Liza could immediately see what Dixie had meant when she said Julie was on every committee the island had. This woman was running the meeting while also answering a text, checking something on her laptop, and writing notes on a legal pad. She had the energy of somebody who’d been running on caffeine and willpower for maybe six months straight.

“All right,” Julie said, clapping her hands once again. “We need to talk about the kids’ programming. Last year we had the face-painting booth and a sandcastle contest. I think we can do better than that.”

A man Liza didn’t recognize raised his hand. “My wife said she would do the face painting again.”

“That’s great, Roger, and tell Patty we appreciate her, but I’m thinking something bigger, more interactive, something that gets the kids moving all over town.”

Julie’s phone buzzed again. She looked at it, typed something with her thumb, and kept talking without even missing a beat.

“So that brings me to our two newest additions to the square. Liza, you’re helping revamp the children’s section at the bookstore. And Grant.” She looked across the table. “You’re opening a puzzle shop. And I think the two of you co-chairing the children’s activities would be absolutely perfect.”

Liza turned her head and realized Grant was sitting three chairs away with his arms crossed. He looked like he had swallowed something unpleasant. She hadn’t noticed him when she came in, which was surprising because he was one of the tallest people in the room. But he had chosen the chair closest to the exit.

“Co-chair?” Grant repeated.

“It’ll be fun,” Julie said with the tone of somebody who had already decided it was happening no matter what anyone else thought. “So you two come up with something creative. Maybe a scavenger hunt or something. Puzzles, books. You know, kids love all that stuff.”

Liza watched Grant’s jaw tense. She, on the other hand, was already fighting the urge to pull out her phone and start planning.

“I don’t remember volunteering for this,” Grant said dryly.

Julie smiled. It was the kind of smile that was warm, but immovable. “And that’s why I did it for you. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

From the corner of the room, Liza heard a familiar voice.

“You’ll thank her, or you’ll run. Either way, it’ll be entertaining.” Dixie sat in the armchair by the window with her braced wrist propped up on a pillow and a glass of wine in her good hand, looking like a queen surveying her court.

Across the table, Dawson looked at Julie. He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face said plenty. It was the same look Liza had seen on her own father’s face a thousand times when her mother had taken on one too many tasks that she didn’t have time for. Half admiration, half worry.

The meeting finished around 7:30 p.m., and people went off into small groups, talking about their booth assignments and how they would do parking.

Liza made her way to the front porch of the inn. The evening air was warm and heavy, as it often was in the Lowcountry. It smelled of the marsh.

Grant was already there, standing at the bottom of the steps, like he had been waiting for her. Maybe he was just trying to leave and she had gotten in his way. It was hard to tell with him.

“So,” she said. “Co-chairs?”

“Apparently,” he said.

She walked down the stairs and stood in front of him. He had such a serious face. Strong angles, thick jaw, the kind of mouth that looked like it had forgotten how to smile a long time ago and wasn’t actually interested in remembering.

“Look, I know you didn’t sign up for this,” she said. “I didn’t either, technically. But maybe it’ll be great. A scavenger hunt with clue cards and a new design. You can design the puzzles, and I’ll handle the reading stuff. We’ll send these kids all over town.”

“Or,” he interrupted, “we could just do something simple. Like a puzzle station. Just one little table with some activities. No costumes. No themes.”

She stared at him.