Wow, he wasn’t kidding. A full sidebar column brimmed with praise for Gus’s kooky sense of fun, wacky optimism, zany decorations—in other words, his affable craziness.
Xander’s own name jumped out from the page. Crap on toast, here was a verbatim quote from what he’d assumed was a private, casual conversation with Hannah. Just a sweet reminiscence of his childhood summers with Gus and Martha, but still—the disarming, dark-haired beauty was first and foremost a journalist. Better watch what he said around her.
Xander skipped to the article’s final paragraph:Was Gus Anagnos a true believer in alien visitations or just a smart businessman? That’s a secret he took to the grave. Rest well, Gus. May stars light your way.
He folded the paper and muttered, “Well, shit.”
Back at the counter, Garrett called, “Nice article, right?”
It was, but that wouldn’t stop the family from shitting multiple bricks when they read this.Ifthey read this. Who read newspapers anymore? Okay, Baba did, over his morning coffee, but what were the chances news from this Podunk town would travel all the way to Seattle? By next week’s memorial service, theBeaconwould have moved on to a more interesting topic anyway.
Returning with a coffee refill, Garrett squeezed Xander’s shoulder. “I’ll set aside a few copies for your family.”
“No, thanks. This article makes Uncle Gus look like a nut.”
Garrett shrugged. “Well, he kind of was, but a loveable one.”
Xander smacked the paper. “And Hannah never warned me our conversation was on the record.” In fact, he’d had the foolish idea she might actually like him. But no, it seemed she was just mining him for news copy.
Garret chuckled. “That’s what you get for dating a journalist.”
“Dating? Hannah and me?” Not that he wouldn’t jump at the chance if he weren’t weighed down with getting the shop ready to re-open by Easter.
The baker huffed a chuckle. “My mistake. I’ve seen her going into your shop three or four times this week, so...”
“She’s just being helpful.” Or so he’d thought.
Behind them, the electronic doorway chime beep-booped.
“Speak of the devil,” Garrett whispered. “Hey there, Hannah. Your usual?”
“Yeah, plus a hot chocolate for Mom. Her ulcer’s acting up again.” She handed Garrett a pile of neon-colored fliers and dropped into the chair opposite Xander. “For Saturday’s sale.”
“I’ll put one in the window.” Garrett tilted his head. “You okay, Hannah?”
Xander noted the tightness at the corners of her plush lips. Dark shadows under her eyes too. Guess he wasn’t the only one dealing with work stress.
She flashed an unconvincing smile. “I’m just grand.”
While Garrett prepared her drink order, she peeled the elastic from her ponytail, shook out her glossy dark hair, then gathered it back into a knot at her nape, her long fingers sliding through the silky strands.
He crossed his arms, tucking away hands that itched to touch her. “Liar. You’re not feeling grand.”
Her chuckle rang dry and brittle. “Just came from another argument with my mom. She’s trying to convince me to shutter theTC Beaconand move.”
Her words landed like a sharp poke between his ribs. He’d just met her, and now she was leaving?
“Move where?”
“She says a smart girl like me should have no trouble picking up a job in Seattle or Portland.” She snorted. “Girl? I’m forty. And in this economy? Mom’s overestimating my chances by miles.” She gave Garrett a warm smile, then sipped the coffee he’d brought. “Thanks, Gar. Parents, right? They always think we can move mountains.”
Garrett made a wry face and moved back to his duties.
Huh. Maybe he and Hannah weren’t the only ones facing family troubles.
Xander sipped his own drink, stalling his return to work. “At least your mom believes in you. Count yourself lucky.” He reached across the table and grazed her knuckles with his fingertip. “Really nice story on Gus. It was kind and fair.”
Her expression flattened. “I’m always fair.”
