Page 39 of Just Beachy

“And if we create a number of these vignettes here, you know, maybe one out on the front porch and another in front of the bookshelves and maybe another in the book club/story time areas, they’d not only be great decoration but would encourage guests and book club members and maybe even their families to pose and share. Which wouldbe fun for them and great exposure for Sandcastle Books.” Grand searches my face. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re a genius,” I reply, because she clearly is.

“Why, thank you for noticing.” Grand takes a mock bow. “Let’s get Myra in here so we can run this by her, too.”

When Myra joins us, Grand explains her idea, then demonstrates it with a few broad strokes on the wall. “One could be the Sandcastle Books logo itself,” she explains as she roughs out the logo then paints a brightly colored frame around it. “Another could be, I don’t know, maybe a pyramid of book covers.

“And”—Grand points to the tree trunk she’s already sketched out—“maybe we could affix the front half of arealtree trunk on the front porch next to the Adirondack chairs I ordered and paint book covers to form the palm fronds.”

“Then we can paint our logo in the vignette so that it’s in the shot and add our Instagram tag so that it’s easy to share on our social media, too,” I add.

“I love it!” Myra says. “Maybe we can ask permission to use the shared selfies on a flyer or marketing piece, too. How long do you think it will take to create the vignettes, Lillian?”

“I don’t know,” Grand replies. “It just depends on how many we decide we want and how complicated they are. Maybe four or five days? No longer than a week. I can sketch out my ideas so you can approve them before I start if you like. Or I can surprise you.”

“Hmm, I think I want to be surprised.” Myra throws anarm around Grand then pulls me in with her other arm. “I’m so glad you two are a part of this. The space is going to be fabulous, and with acting and art classes on top of book clubs and story time, we’ll have something for almost everyone.”

The three of us high-five. Then Myra goes into her computer to check on a delivery date for the Adirondack chairs. Grand and I head to the paint store.

• • •

On Friday evening,when we’ve finished our work at the bookstore and I’ve scrubbed off as much paint as I can, Myra, Grand, and I head over to Harley’s. It’s only 5:30 p.m. and I’m not due “on the clock” until six, so I’m assuming we can grab a bite before I go into bouncer mode. But when we arrive, the place is already packed.

There’s a hush as we enter, followed by a buzz of conversation as we walk toward the bar, where Luke is already seated. Grand and Myra are not at all surprised to see him, but my pulse kicks up when he stands and waves us over to the empty seats he’s saved on either side of him.

“What’s going on here tonight?” I ask A.J., who’s all smiles when he comes to take drink orders from everyone but me.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I told a few customers that you’d be in tonight and the place just…filled up. Most of them are here because they want to meet you. And quite a few of them would like to get your autograph.”

“No.” I shake my head. “No autographs.”

“Well, what if we just give an autograph to whoever wins the darts tournament tonight?” A.J. suggests.

“No.”

His face falls.

“You can fire me right now,” I say quietly. “I won’t be the least bit hurt or offended.” In fact, it would be a relief not to have to pretend to have anything in common with the character I once played. “We both know you’d be better off with a beefier bouncer.”

“Not true,” A.J. insists. “You handled the guys who tried to rob me, and you kept things from going south the last time you were here. You’re a good influence. Plus, you were a police detective for years.” He adds this last observation so matter-of-factly that I’m no longer sure whether he truly believes this or is just unwilling to give up on using me to attract customers.

“No,” I say through gritted teeth. “Iplayeda police detective for years.”

“But people are here to see you,” A.J. replies doggedly.

“Then they’ll have to be satisfied with the fact that I’m here,” I bite out. “And if there’s trouble, as your bouncer, I’ll do my best to take care of it. But I am not giving autographs or trading on the fact that I used to play a fictional character on television. And FYI,” I continue as I slide onto an empty stool beside Luke, “you have an actual, real live policeman here in your bar right now. That’s way better than someone who only played one on television.”

“But—”

“No.” I turn back to Luke. “Whatareyou drinking?” Iask him. “More importantly, what are you doing here? Don’t you have criminals to catch?”

“This is an old-fashioned, I happen to be off duty, and I’m here because your grandmother called and invited me. She’s a hard woman to say no to.”

“Tell me about it. But I don’t think we should encourage her.”

He shrugs. “I’m not sure how we would stop her. Besides, I can think of worse things than spending the evening in a bar with you.”

“In that case, order another old-fashioned.”

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