your advanced age.”
The six years between them probably was enough of a gap to explain differing teen pop culture touchstones. Or would have been if he’d ever been the kind of person who cared about boy bands.
“I know who Holden Hampshire is, and I’m much older than you are,” Miss White Claw said to Law. She had been watching their conversation like she was a spectator at a Ping-Pong match.
“Thank you,” Maya said to the woman before turning back to Law. “He’s been sort of low-level famous since the band broke up,” she went on, “but his star is rising as an actor. He had a small part in that submarine movie, Submergence. I heard from a friend of a friend in the Toronto film scene that he was looking to try some theater and he has an open summer, so I hunted down the contact info for his agent, and I’m trying to lure him out to star in Much Ado about Nothing.”
She did that sometimes. Though her theater was mostly a community theater, which meant she cast actors from around the region, she sometimes brought in a big name from Toronto or the nearby Stratford Festival to headline a show. But they’d never had a legit celebrity in town before.
“So the point is”—she leaned forward over the bar—“Holden Hampshire was going to come check out a show, and I told him to park in one of the reserved spots.”
The tourist whistled. “Ooh, you’re in trouble now!”
Well, crap. But he couldn’t feel too bad about it on account of his not being a mind reader. “Much Ado about Nothing, though? I thought the summer play was always a musical. I thought you were doing My Fair Lady.”
“I was, until my source told me that Holden was looking to try some Shakespeare. Apparently he wants to acquire some serious acting cred.”
“A boy-band dude is going to star in a Shakespeare play?” It was hard to imagine.
“Well, I don’t know, Benjamin. I wanted him to. I was intending to show him my directing prowess, but he missed the dramatic lights-out moment on account of the parking situation.” She deflated a little.
Aww, crap. He pulled out her wine and topped up her drink.
Maya’s friends arrived and pulled out stools. “Hey!” Eve said. “That went well!”
Nora climbed onto a stool with a little more difficulty than usual. She was pregnant and starting to show. It still blew his mind that Nora had managed to penetrate the fortress Jake had erected around himself.
“Did Holden leave already?” Nora asked.
“He sure did. I invited him for a drink, but he said he had to run and he’d call me.” Maya took a gulp of her wine without acknowledging the top-up—not that she ever did. “Well, actually, he said he’d have ‘his people’ call me.” Another gulp. “I don’t know what I was thinking. He’s way out of my league.”
Law topped up her glass some more.
“Also, he missed the dramatic lights-out moment because he had nowhere to park.” Maya was talking to her friends but looking at him.
He ignored her. He didn’t do glaring contests when they had an audience. He capped her wine bottle and stowed it in a fridge under the bar. “What can I get you ladies?”
As he was setting up Eve with a beer and Nora with a virgin mojito, Maya introduced them to the tourist.
“So what’s this I hear about y’all throwing flowers in the lake?” Miss Louisiana Teen USA asked, leaning over to direct the question to all three women.
“It’s a town tradition,” Maya said. “When the moon is full, you throw a flower into the lake and make a wish, and legend has it your wish will come true.”
“Does it work?”
“It kind of does,” Eve said at the same time Maya said, “Not at all.”
The women all cracked up. The tourist turned to Nora. “What do you think? It would seem you’re the deciding vote.”
Nora made an apologetic face at Maya. “I have to say I’ve had a lot of good luck since I moved here, but the scientist in me has to point out that correlation is not causation.”
“Damn. I could use some good luck right about now.”
“Let’s go, then!” Maya said.
“Is there a full moon tonight, though?” the tourist asked.
Maya shrugged. “Close enough.”
“You’re always saying that!” Eve said. “Maybe that’s why your wishes don’t work.”
Maya shook her head affectionately at Eve. “Well, you don’t have to come.” She turned to Nora. “You, either. You already have your perfect