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mentally groaned. That bottle's never gonna lastanother ten days. “You want Coke in that?”

“Sure.”

Allen signed both books just like he was asked—ToHarriet, a good friend of mine, and then signed his name. He handed thebooks to Rose and went for the tequila.

Rose flipped to the first page and read aloud what Allen hadwritten, and then closed the books. “Nice,” he said. “Thanks a lot. I reallyappreciate this.”

“Trust me,” Allen said, pouring a generous shot into theglass, “not as much as I appreciate her reading them.” He walked to the sofaand handed Rose his tequila and Coke.

“Aren't you having one with me? I hate drinking alone.”

Allen shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” He returned to the sink andprepared a drink for himself, going a little easy on his own shot.

Rose held up his glass. “To the folks who read your books,”he toasted.

Allen grinned and clinked their glasses together. “Amen.” Hewalked to the door. “Shall we sit outside?”

“Sure.” Rose stood and they walked outside and sat in thetwo chairs in front of the picture window. He placed the books on the plasticend table between them. “How's the new book coming along?”

“I wrote a little bit earlier,” said Allen.

Rose took a deep breath and sighed. “Do fans ever doanything like invite you to their house for dinner?”

“Why, Rose, are you thinking of inviting me to your housefor dinner?”

“The wife wanted me to ask. Like I said, she's a really bigfan, and she wants to meet you. If you wouldn't feel comfortable, or if I'mcrossing a line, just say no.”

“When would this dinner take place?”

“How about Thursday?”

“I actually have a date Thursday night.”

“Didn't you just get here Sunday morning?'

“Yeah.”

“You work quick, my friend. How about Saturday night?”

“That sounds great.”

“And if your date goes well, you can invite her along fordinner as well.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

Rose downed his drink and set the glass on the end table andpicked up Harriet's books. “That really hit the spot,” he said, “but I betterbe gettin' back to work.”

“You're on duty?”

Rose stood. “Sure am.”

“I wouldn't have offered you a drink if I knew.”

“Why's that?”

“Because—never mind.”

Rose turned and started down the walkway. “See ya Saturdayat six,” he said, and waved over his shoulder.

“What's your address?”

“I'll text it to you.”

Allen crossed his legs, leaned back in the chair, and sippedhis drink. A few minutes later, Jacob rode his skateboard around the corner.

Allen waited for him to get closer before calling out, “Yourmother was looking for you!”

Jacob hopped off the board, and with his back foot poppedthe tail of the board against the blacktop, and lifted the front with his otherfoot, catching it in mid-air.

“What?” the boy asked.

“Your mom was looking for you.”

“She was?”

“Yep.”

“How long ago?”

“A couple hours, I guess.”

“She ask you where I was?”

“Yes.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her you and Oliver were probably out snatching old ladies’pocketbooks and knocking off liquor stores.”

“No, you didn't.”

“No, I didn't. I told her I didn't know where you were.”

“Okay.”

“Where were you?”

“Just riding our skateboards.”

“Get your ass in here, young man!” Tess hollered.

“Looks like someone's in trouble,” said Allen.

Jacob slouched his shoulders, hung his head, and lumbered tohis door.

The wine drinker from downstairs stepped into view. He washolding a glass of red wine. He held up his glass in a long-distance toast.“Hey, hey, Blue Eyes,” he said.

Allen nodded and presented his glass. “How you doin' today?”

“They're saying it's going to rain.”

“That's what they're saying.”

“Let me fill this glass and I'll be right up.”

Oh, joy.

Allen got up, went inside, and made himself another drink.When he exited his room, Wine Guy was walking toward him. Allen sat down andpointed to the chair Rose had vacated. “Have a seat.”

“Donnie Peppitone,” said the guy.

“Allen Crane,” Allen responded.

Donnie smiled big. “No need for the introduction, blue eyes,everyone in the building knows who you are.”

“They do, do they?”

“Yes, they do. Word spreads quickly here.”

“How long have you been here?”

“I arrived on August 15.”

“How long are you staying?”

Donnie turned his head and gazed over the railing at theocean. “I may never leave,” he said sadly.

Allen sipped his drink. He knew he shouldn't ask, but thatdidn't stop him. “And why's that?”

“I have nothing to go home to.” A tear formed in the cornerof Donnie's eye.

Crap! Why did I ask?

“He left me standing at the altar,” said Donnie.

Good God.

Donnie reached up and wiped his tears with his fingertips.“I couldn't believe it was happening to me. The organist began playing oursong—'Born This Way.'”

“Lady Gaga, right?”

Donnie smiled through his tears and gave Allen's shoulder aplayful shove. “Yesss! I didn't know you were woke, Blue Eyes.”

“I'm so woke I'm asleep. Go on.”

“Well, everyone stood. I turned to watch Evan walk down theaisle. I waited and waited. It was only seconds, but it seemed like aneternity. Everything slowed down. The room began to spin. The organist stoppedplaying. The guests started whispering. The lights went out.”

“Someone forgot to pay the electrical bill?” Allen asked injest. He knew it was an inappropriate remark, but it was the first thing thatpopped into his head.

“What?”

“Nothing. Then what happened?”

“I fainted.”

“Right there at the altar?”

“Yes. It's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happenedto me.”

“The fainting, or being abandoned at the altar?”

“Well, both, I guess.” Donnie's tears were drying, but hewiped his eyes again anyway.

Allen sipped his drink. He figured he could fit this storyinto a book somewhere at some time. Maybe even the one he was working on now.That's the beauty of being a writer; sometimes you write the story, sometimesothers do it for you.

“What was his excuse?” Allen asked.

“I didn't hear from Evan until the next morning. He said hejust wasn't ready.”

“And he couldn't have told you in the days leading up to thewedding?”

“I guess not.”

“Coward.”

“That's what I said. That afternoon, I climbed into my MiniCooper and drove away. It took me six days to drive here.”

“From where?”

“Redwood City.”

“Where's that?”

“California.”

“Has he tried to contact you?”

“I have no idea. I threw my cell phone out the window aboutthirty miles outside of Albuquerque.”

Allen snorted. “He's probably worried.”

“Well, I should hope so.” Donnie tipped up his wineglass and finished what was inside. “Cowardly drama queen, that's

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