“You must spill your thoughts over dinner.” Meg looked around her. “Now, where is the lady herself?”

“She’s got a migraine,” Marlon chipped in.

“Oh, poor thing,” Meg cooed.

When 10:25 a.m. arrived, Liv, Marlon and Meg sat around a tall red table. Marlon kept eating sweets from a bowl, and Meg fiddled with her earrings. “Do you think Essie’s on her way?” she asked Liv. “I want her to sign some books as a little giveaway for our visitors.”

“It doesn’t look like she’s joining us,” Liv said. She took the signed bookplates out of her handbag. “She asked me to bring these along, just in case.”

Meg pressed a hand to her neck. “Gosh, that woman is so selfless, thinking of others.”

Liv smiled to herself. “I could start sticking them into the books...”

“Would you, darling?” Meg gave a resigned smile.

As Meg drifted away, Marlon leaned in. “I’m really worried about Essie,” he said. “I should go up and check if she’s okay.”

Liv’s hand froze. She looked up from the bookplates and swallowed hard. “Please don’t do that.”

“I’ve brought my aromatherapy oils along.”

“She might be asleep...”

“I get migraines, too. Believe me, they make sleeping impossible. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“No,” Liv said, more aggressively than she meant to.

Marlon shrank back.

Liv’s eyes darted as she thought of something to waylay him. She bent down and wrestled the printed manuscript out of her tote bag. She leafed through the pages and held out the first three chapters she’d worked on. “Essie gave these to me, this morning. Would you like to read them?”

Marlon eyed them with wonder. “Has she finished the book?”

“No, but these will give you a good flavor.”

He took the pages off her and held them gently, as if they were ancient parchment that might disintegrate. “Are you sure she won’t kill you? I’d love to read them.”

Liv tried not to worry about how unprofessional her own writing might be. Anything to stop Marlon from trying to see Essie. “Let’s not disturb her.”

He held the pages protectively to his chest. “You know her best, Liv.”

When she returned to the stand, Meg was shaking hands with two men and presenting them with copies of Essie’s sixth novel, The Silent Touch. She opened the covers to show off the signed plates inside.

“Any luck reaching Essie, darling?” Meg said. “I’m meeting an important French publisher next, La Plume. They’d love to meet her. They’ve published her before and are undecided which book to choose next. They want to grow her readership in France.”

Liv smiled apologetically. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing her.”

“This is truly unfortunate.” Meg tapped her pen on the table and mused for a moment. “Perhaps you can step in for her...”