Page 67 of The Lighthouse on Plum Island
“Good luck getting Vanessa to take her purse dog for a bite test,” Brad said as he and Dawn walked to the exit where Sam was waiting by the limo.
As they stepped outside, they were bombarded by the relentless flash of cameras as a group of paparazzi stormed them like a pack of hungry wolves. Brad instinctively wrapped his arms around Dawn, shielding her from the invasive lenses. With practiced ease, he guided her toward the waiting limousine, leaving the chaos of the Summer Inn behind.
Sam, Brad’s trusty driver, awaited their departure inside the limo. “Where to?” Sam inquired.
“The Plum Island Library,” Brad replied, looking at Sam in the mirror. “Sam, this is Dawn, the head screenwriter for the Cobble Cove Mysteries. She’s not feeling too well, and I’d like her to see Daniella.”
“Hello, I’m Sam.” He smiled at her in the mirror. “Daniella is an excellent doctor and will have you feeling better soon.”
“Hello, Sam,” Dawn greeted him. “Thank you for taking me.”
“I’m here if you need me,” Sam assured her. “We’ll be at the clinic in a few minutes. There’s some ginger ale in the fridge. If you sip on it, it will take any nausea away.”
“How do you know I feel nauseous?” Dawn looked at Sam in surprise.
“You’re green around the gills,” Sam told her honestly.
“Thanks, Sam,” Brad said, opening the small refrigerator before him to get a bottle of ginger ale that he opened and offered to Dawn.
“I’ll try it,” Dawn said. “Do you have the barf bag handy?”
“There are a few of those in the back pocket of my seat,” Sam told her.
As the limo glided through the quaint streets of Plum Island, Brad pointed out a few landmarks to Dawn, attempting to distract her from her motion sickness and the paparazzi-inducedstress. The picturesque surroundings of the island, with its charming houses and vibrant greenery, served as a soothing backdrop to their journey.
Upon arriving at the library, Brad escorted Dawn inside, the quiet ambiance starkly contrasting with the chaos they had left behind. The scent of old books and the soft murmur of hushed conversations surrounded them as they made their way to the front desk, where Tanith was busy with a few books.
She looked up as they approached. “Hello, Brad.” Tanith looked curiously at the woman with him.
“Tanith, this is Dawn, she’s the screenwriter,” Brad introduced them. “Dawn needs to see Daniella as she isn’t feeling well.”
“Hi,” Tanith greeted Dawn. “Welcome to our little town.” She glanced toward an office. “Why don’t you have a seat over there.” She pointed to a row of seats that looked onto the front desk. “I’ll go see if Daniella is available.”
“Thank you,” Brad and Dawn said in unison.
They sat on the chairs, and Dawn rested her head on Brad’s shoulder.
“When last have you been in a library?” Dawn asked Brad.
“A few days ago,” Brad surprised her by saying. “I came here to meet Carrie Lines.”
“Harriet told me you’d met her,” Dawn said. “She also told me she thinks you like Carrie more than you should.” She tilted her head back on his shoulder to look at him. “Brad, you can’t mess around. Especially if this series goes as planned because your father will want at least another season.”
“Harriet exaggerates,” Brad assured Dawn and was saved by Daniella and Tanith walking toward them.
“Brad, what is it with you?” Daniella teased.
“He obviously makes women sick!” Tanith gave him a cheeky smile.
“He’s not that bad,” Dawn surprised Brad by sticking up for him. “He has a good heart.”
“Thank you.” Brad smiled down at her as a flash blinded him.
“Hey!” Tanith yelled. “You can’t take pictures in here.”
As Brad’s eyesight righted itself, he heard running footsteps.
“Come on.” Daniella helped Dawn up. “Let’s get you out of the way of the press.”
