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Grace blushed. “Well, okay. I guess I’d heard something about you maybe being back. But I didn’t know for sure.”
“Well, as far as how long I’m here, that remains to be seen.”
She patted his arm, the grandmotherly concern choking him up slightly again. “Well, I for one certainly hope it’s a good long time. Now let’s get you two kids settled in a booth so I can feed you. I’m pretty sure I heard a stomach growling just before I came over.”
Mila clapped her hands together in front of her chest. “You did! Jet’s stomach totally growled! That’s hilarious!”
Dang. Between Abby and his sister, it seemed like all the Valentine Bay women in his life were intent on teasing him.
He smiled and ruffled her hair. “Glad I could amuse you, kid.”
They sat down at the table and opened their menus. Mila’s stream of consciousness monologue about the goings on of Valentine Bay Middle School’s population started up again and he was grateful for the distraction.
Jet had barely begun scanning up and down each side of the oversized plastic bi-fold to see if anything had changed, and feeling relief and satisfaction when he saw that nothing really had, when the front door of Main Street Eats opened again and a new pair of people walked through them.
Jet slumped down slightly in the booth and pulled his baseball cap down a little further. He didn’t want to be obvious, but he did want to shield his face as much as possible.
He heard shock in Grace’s voice as she greeted them. “Oh my word, honey…are you who I think you are?”
Well, that was strange. Grace knew everyone in this town. He tuned his internal radar to focus a little bit less on Mila’s loosely-connected story and a little bit more on the conversation unfolding by the front door.
Who could it be, if Grace wasn’t sure who they were, but still recognized them? He supposed it could be a local celebrity. A Portland news anchor or something. Valentine Bay, with its luxury resorts and quaint downtown shopping area, was a popular day trip and weekend getaway destination. But, somehow, that wasn’t what Jet thought Grace’s voice had sounded like.
Of course, he could just turn around and satisfy his curiosity– but that would’ve meant showing his face.
He had no idea why the little drama had captured his attention so completely. Maybe his brain was desperately grabbing at a distraction from all of the stress he was under, wondering what the hell was going to become of his life. Maybe. But a little tingle at the back of his brain told him it was more important than that.
A low, husky voice responded to Grace’s question. “I most likely am. It’s sure nice to meet you.”
“Oh my word. It’s nice to meet you, too.” Grace sounded star-struck, which was something Jet had never heard before. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from turning around in his seat and solving the mystery, recognition be damned.
But he thought that might not be necessary. The voice had triggered a spark of recognition in his mind, and it was slowly growing into a full-fledged flame.
“I wonder if you can help me? I’m looking for the Valentine residence, and I’m a little turned around.”
Grace laughed. “You mean the other Valentine residence! Because I’d imagine your own house qualifies, and you could probably find that easy enough!”
Yep. His suspicions were confirmed. The voice belonged to Ginny Valentine, the crown princess of country music. Also, the bane of Jet’s existence any time he had to do an interview. It seemed that there wasn’t a music journalist in existence who could resist asking if the two of them were related. He got tired of thinking of new ways to say that the last name was just a coincidence, and he’d never even met the woman.
So, what the hell is she doing here?
“Exactly,” Ginny chuckled.
“Well, darlin’, I can do you one better. I’ve got two of the Valentine siblings sitting right over there.”
Mila looked up from her menu as Grace approached the booth, and then she promptly screamed, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my GOD! You’re Ginny Valentine. I can’t believe it. Oh my God. I love you so freaking much. Oh my God! We have the same last name!”
Jet turned around to look at the country singer, who he’d never seen in person before. She was smiling at Mila. He liked that. It would’ve been easy for her to be aloof or condescending in the face of his sister’s over the top enthusiasm, but everything about her radiated warmth.
“I know, honey. That’s why I’m here. You’re Mila, right?”
The color drained from his sister’s face, and Jet was glad she was sitting in a padded booth because he thought she might pass out.
“You know my name?” Her whisper was barely audible.
“I sure do,” Ginny replied. “I’ve been waiting to meet you.”
Mila’s jaw dropped, and Jet figured he’d better join the conversation before the shock completely overwhelmed her.
