The Last Word

Olivia was pleased that his handshake was firm and that his eyes held a smile as he asked for her name.

“I knew who you were,” Olivia confessed after introducing herself. “Still, I couldn’t resist giving you a hard time. Consider it one of our new-resident initiation rites.”

“As long as you don’t shave my eyebrows while I sleep,” Nick replied smoothly and took a seat across from Olivia. “It’s taken me years to perfect this arch.”

The pair began exchanging ideas for other pranks when one of the public school librarians entered the diner. She stopped just inside the door and scanned the room. When she saw Nick, her eyes widened and she scurried over to the window booth, clutching a hardcover against her chest.

“I am so sorry to interrupt, Mr. Plumley.” Her voice was an animated whisper. “But when I heard you were here, in our little diner, I had to rush right over. I am such a big fan. This book—” She gently eased the novel away from her body and touched the cover with reverence. “I thought of those German soldiers as my own brothers. Now that is skillful character development, to make me empathize with Nazis when I lost two uncles to that war.”

My, but Dixie got the word out fast. What’s she doing? Sending out tweets about the diner’s guest? Olivia wondered, watching the author’s reaction over having failed to avoid his celebrity status.

Nick Plumley opened his mouth to thank the elderly librarian, but she didn’t give him the opportunity. “And the murder scene! Utterly chilling. I researched the actual events, of course. We even had the son of one of the Nazi prison camp guards speak at the school’s annual fund-raiser.” She glanced behind her as though the rest of the diners were hanging on her every word. “If you’re working on the sequel, you should interview him. He says he remembers all kinds of stories from those days. I could introduce you.”

Something altered in Nick’s expression. The change was subtle. The laugh lines became shallower, and a shadow darkened his eyes until he blinked it away. His smile, which had been sincere when the librarian first approached the booth, became stiff.

He recovered quickly, however, and offered to sign the woman’s book. She prattled on about area book clubs, wringing her hands in delight as she spelled her last name with deliberate slowness.

“I have quite a collection of signed books,” she informed Nick. “And this one will be given a place of pride among the John Updikes and the Dan Browns.”

Olivia was growing bored with the librarian’s fawning and wondered how the man seated opposite her had survived hundreds of events in which he was subjected to an endless horde of such sycophants.

Without regard for the librarian’s feelings, Olivia cleared her throat and made a show of examining her watch. Luckily, the older woman took the hint and scuttled off, the book once again pressed against her chest.

“Sorry about that,” Nick said, looking strangely weary from the encounter. He sat back, withdrawing into himself, and all traces of the amiable camaraderie that had begun to bloom between them evaporated.

Her curiosity aroused, Olivia tried to draw Nick into revealing more about his personal life, but he politely deflected all of her questions and began to shift in his seat. In a moment, she knew, he’d be gone.

“At least let me see the house listing you’ve got there. I know the best contractor in town, should you need an inspection or repairs.” She gave Nick her warmest smile, opening her deep sea blue eyes wide.

It worked. “Showing you where I hope to live doesn’t say much for my ability to guard my privacy, but for some reason I trust you.” He slid the paper across the table to her.

Olivia unfolded the sheet and drew in a sharp breath. Of all the houses in Oyster Bay, the wealthy writer wanted to purchase the one Harris was dead set on buying.

As Olivia stared at the familiar bungalow, Nick excused himself and headed toward the restroom. Within seconds, Dixie was leaning over Olivia’s shoulder, studying the black-and-white photo.

“I’d have thought he’d go for somethin’ fancier.” Dixie frowned. “What’s the point of bein’ loaded if you don’t toss your money around. It’s not like you can take it with you.”

Olivia jabbed at the paper with her index finger. “Never fear, Dixie. Nick Plumley won’t be living here. He’ll have to choose something more suitable.”

Dixie shook her head. “I don’t think so. I heard him tell the real estate broker that he had to have this house, so I reckon it’s as good as sold.”

Handing Dixie some cash, Olivia stood up and signaled to Haviland to follow suit. “You tell Nick Plumley that this house is unavailable. Tell him it has ghosts or asbestos or that it’s been condemned. Tell him it’s built on sacred Indian burial ground. I don’t care what you say, but tell him it’s off the market.”

Dixie put her hands on her hips. “What on earth has gotten into you, ’Livia? Whether you like it or not, Oyster Bay’s newest celebrity is gonna leave that gorgeous place he’s renting and set out a welcome mat at this little house by Memorial Day. You just mark my words.”

Olivia snatched the paper from the table and opened the front door. As soon as Haviland had trotted outside, Olivia turned to Dixie and calmly declared, “The only way he gets this house is over my dead body.”

Without waiting for a response, she left, shutting the door so firmly that the bells were still ringing when Nick Plumley returned from the restroom to find that the woman, the poodle, and his house listing were gone.

Chapter 2

I don’t believe the accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings.

—MAYA ANGELOU

Ten minutes after leaving the diner, Olivia was rapping on Millicent Banks’s office door.

“Oh, Ms. Limoges!” The real estate agent opened the door while dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “I’m afraid you’ve found me eating on the job. Do come in.” Peering around Olivia’s shoulder, she caught sight of Haviland and retreated a step. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Actually, I’m here to thank you.” Olivia gave the older woman a grateful smile. “Harris was fortunate to have had such an experienced agent on his side to guide him through the biggest purchase of his life. To show you my appreciation, I’ve brought you a gift certificate to The Boot Top. I’d like to treat you and Mr. Banks to a memorable dinner.”

Millicent accepted the gift with obvious pleasure. “How lovely! But this is quite unnecessary. I was merely doing my job.”

“I know. Still, men don’t always know how to express themselves, and Harris would approve of me doing so on his behalf.” Olivia noticed a folder on Millicent’s desk bearing Harris’s name. “Was his offer accepted?”

Hesitating, Millicent walked around her desk and examined her computer screen. “The sellers have agreed to the price via e-mail, but they haven’t signed any papers yet. The husband plans to swing by after work. I’m certain everything will work out just fine.”

Olivia didn’t share the agent’s optimism. She had to act fast to ensure that the sellers signed the necessary documents before Nick could present an offer that would make their heads spin.

“Mrs. Banks, I know I’m behaving like an overprotective sibling, but I just want to see that everything’s in order before I head in to the restaurant. Can I persuade you to drive the paperwork to the sellers now instead of waiting until later this afternoon?” Without giving Millicent a chance to protest, Olivia continued. “In short, I’d like to offer you an incentive. You see, I’ve noticed your fondness for Chanel bags and I have a contact in New York City who can send me the grand shopper tote from the upcoming line. I’d be more than glad to acquire one for you if you’d only do me the favor of getting those papers signed directly. I can