“Are you out of your Vulcan mind?!”
—Dr. “Bones” McCoy

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Wednesday, November 5

"Hello, Vivian. Today’s not your usual book delivery day. Can I help you with something?” Ms. Garcia’s warm smile welcomed me as I stood in her office doorway.

“I wondered if I could speak with Mrs. Sinatra. Just a quick, um interim, book drop-off. ” Fisk had told me his gran’s code name that only he used.

Ms. Garcia raised her eyebrows. “How did you—” She caught herself and tried to look official. Fisk/Hector must have told her who he really was and sworn her to secrecy, too. “We don’t have anyone here by that name.”

I grinned and held up a bag full of paperbacks. “She reads fast. Her grandson asked that I keep her supplied.” I still hadn’t met Fisk’s gran since she wasn’t very mobile. Mrs. Sloane brought her list when I set up shop in the community room and then delivered the books to her.

Ms. Garcia’s face relaxed. “Isn’t Hector a sweetie? All right, come with me.” I followed her down the narrow hallway, waving and saying “hi” to my regular customers until Ms. Garcia knocked on a closed door.

“Come in,” said a wobbly voice. Ms. Garcia opened the door and ushered me inside.

This room was nicer than the others: better furniture with lots of plants and flowers on all the surfaces. And a framed poster of Fisk winning the America Sings competition several years ago before his career took off.

“Well, hello, sweetheart,” Mrs. Sinatra aka Fisk’s gran said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I held up the bag. “More books.” I waited until Ms. Garcia closed the door, then spoke quickly. “My name is Vivian. Bookstore girl?” I smiled hopefully. “I’ve met your grandson and I need to get a message to him. But I don’t have his number since he’s, like, famous.” I took a breath. “Can you call him for me, please? I hate to intrude, but it’s important.”

She frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Not really.” I decided to confide in her. “I’m trying to fix something I messed up. And I think Fisk can help me.”

She nodded. “All right, hon. I’ll tell him. He knows where to find you?”

I nodded. “Thank you.” I patted her hand. “I’m glad I got to meet you. Your grandson’s a great guy and he cares about you a lot.”

“He’s the bee’s knees,” she said, and I grinned, thinking of Iggy and how much he’d love my plan. But I couldn’t tell him or anyone else.

I slid off the bed, grateful for her help but also nervous.

If Fisk came through, this was going to be the scariest, dorkiest thing I’d ever done in my life.

...

For a rock star Fisk was shockingly prompt. He’d sent a message through his gran, via Ms. Garcia, that he’d come by the store tonight after closing. I’d just shut the door when I saw the Unabomber emerge from the shadows. I grinned at him and unlocked the door.

“Hi,” I said. “I didn’t expect you to respond so fast.”

He glanced around the darkened store, then tugged off his hood and sunglasses. “I figured it was urgent.” He stared down at me, looking genuinely concerned. “What is it, Vivian?”

Suddenly I felt like a complete idiot. I’d just paged a freaking rock star to help me fix my dorky teenage love life. Who did I think I was?

“Vivian,” Fisk prompted. “What’s going on?”

“Um, let’s talk over cookies.” He laughed but followed me to the kitchen.

Once we’d settled at the table with snacks, he pointed at me. “Quit stalling. What’s up?”

I took a deep breath. I’d come this far; I couldn’t give up now. “I need you to be my Billy Idol.”

He frowned and stopped chewing. “What?”

“Like in The Wedding Singer,” I rushed on, before I could chicken out. “On the airplane? When Adam Sandler sings to Drew Barrymore. And Billy Idol’s there.”

He blinked at me, waiting.

“But I can’t sing. I’m even worse than Adam Sandler.” I pointed at him. “But you can, obviously.” I took a deep breath. “I want you to sing to Dallas. Oh, and I want you to do it for our town’s talent show as a special guest star. It’s for a good cause…we raise lots of money for the food bank and homeless shelter and…it might help me win back the guy I’m in love with,” I finished, breathless.

Fisk stared at me for a long moment, chewing and swallowing his cookie. He chugged from the soda can, then leaned back in his chair. “Let me see if I understand. You want me to serenade this guy you rejected? His name’s Dallas?” His eyes crinkled like he’d just told me the punch line to a joke.

I nodded, biting my lip. I was out of my Vulcan mind. No way would he do it.

“But,” he continued, “instead of sneaking to his house and serenading outside his window, you want me to perform at the town talent show. Full of a bunch of sorry acts, I bet. Magic tricks, middle schoolers break-dancing, that kind of stuff. Right?”

I shifted in my chair, surprised at how defensive I felt of our town’s show, but before I could say anything Fisk gave me his camera-loving grin. “I’m in, Vivian. Just tell me when.”

No way. No freaking way. I struggled to find my voice. “Really?” I squeaked. “You mean it?”

“Sure, why not? I haven’t performed in months. I could use the practice.” He winked at me. “And I’m a sucker for Romeo and Juliet stuff.”

I finally relaxed enough to laugh. “It’s not as if we come from warring families.”

He shrugged. “Still, you know what I mean.” He ran a hand through his rock star hair. “Have you thought about what song you want?”

I’d thought about it a lot. I’d researched lyrics and bands, and I’d also considered Fisk’s voice, which was amazing and unique. I’d re-watched the America Sings episode when he won, and one of the judges had compared him to Freddie Mercury. That’s when I knew what song it had to be.

“You love Queen, right?” I asked.

He eyes lit up. “Lay it on me, Viv.”

I grinned. “Somebody to Love.”

He returned my grin. “Awesome. I’ll kill that song.”

“I know.”

Then he frowned, making me panic. “What about a band? Back-up singers?”

“Uh,” I stuttered. “Um, I…well, I was going to put you in touch with Drew, the director of the show. Maybe he can figure that out.” Would our school band work? Maybe with the school choir?

“Can he keep my appearance a secret? I can’t have this turn into a circus, Vivian, much as I want to help you. I’ll need to disappear right after the show so no one suspects I’m staying in town.”

Was Drew trustworthy? I had a feeling he’d keep this secret because it would be such a coup to get Fisk to perform. Knowing Drew he’d advertise the secret guest star all over town and get the buzz going. Then he’d get all the credit when Fisk showed up.

I realized this was a way for me to make up to Drew for the stupid list stuff and for lying about Dallas wanting to be in the show. And I didn’t care who got the credit for Fisk performing.

All I wanted was for Dallas to listen to the song and confess that he still loved me, just like Drew Barrymore did with Adam Sandler on the airplane after he sang her that awful song. If he still loved me.

No pressure, Viv, I told myself. You’re just going to announce your feelings in front of the whole freaking town. No pressure at all.

“Let’s do it,” Fisk said. “I’ll come back here tomorrow night at nine o’clock after you close. Bring the talent show director but nobody else, okay?”

I nodded, swallowing nervously. “I don’t know how to thank you, Fisk.”

He tipped the last of the soda into his mouth, then smirked at me. “Let’s wait and see how Romeo reacts to the song before you thank me.”

My shoulders sagged. “Maybe this is a dumb idea. In fact, I know it’s a du—”

“No way,” Fisk interrupted. “You’re not backing out on me, Viv. I’ve even got a Freddie Mercury costume already.” He grinned at me. “Should I wear a fake mustache to complete the look?”

“No.” I laughed. “You can’t deprive the rabid Vilhelm fans of your gorgeous face.”

He winked. “True. Can’t disappoint my fans.” Then he looked serious again. “One thing, Viv. Last time you said this Dallas guy had, uh, moved on from you to someone else.”

I stared at my shoes before peeking up at him. “Yeah, he did for awhile. But now he’s not with anyone.”

Fisk nodded. “Good.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “What else can you tell me about this guy? How well do you know him?”

That surprised me. “Well, we worked together. He’s like a genius coder. He programmed software for the store.” I hesitated. “We have a lot in common.” Way more than I’d been willing to admit. “He always makes me laugh. And he’s one of the sweetest guys I know.”

“Cool.” Fisk nodded. “Anything else?”

I thought about telling him how Dallas had saved me. About his room full of trophies for his Bruce Lee bad-ass-ness. But Fisk didn’t need to know those details. “Why so curious?”

His lips quirked. “If I’m playing Cupid, I want to make sure you two are a good match.”

My face flamed with heat as I remembered the insanely hot kiss. “We’re, um, very compatible.”

Fisk’s grin turned mischievous. “I can see that by your purple face. That’s all I needed to know.”

...

Drew almost lost his composure when the Unabomber took off his sunglasses, but he reined it in at the last second, clearing his throat and tossing his scarf. “Fisk Vilhlem. I’d heard a rumor you might be staying at The Lodge.”

Fisk nodded, after shooting me a wink. “Yep. I want to help out my friend Viv, and I hear you’re the guy who can make it happen.”

Drew stood up straighter. “Of course.”

Fisk glanced at me. “Vivian, do you mind if Drew and I talk in private?”

I blinked in surprise. “Why?”

Fisk crossed his arms. “You need to trust me.” He glanced at Drew. “Also, you’d be bored listening to all the technical details I need to work out with my director.”

Drew looked triumphant. I wanted to smack him, but I let him gloat. I owed him that much.

“Okay.” I shrugged, feeling slightly hurt, but I reminded myself that Fisk was doing me an incredible favor. “I’ll be out front, shelving books or whatever.”

Drew gave me an imperious nod and I rolled my eyes. Fisk winked as I turned to leave the kitchen.

Fisk was right; I had to trust him. So instead of trying to eavesdrop, I sorted books and thought about Dallas, and imagined all the different ways he might react to my song. Worst case scenario, he’d reject me. But since he was Dallas, he’d do it privately so I wouldn’t be publicly humiliated. I could handle that. I could keep it together until I could collapse in the privacy of my own room.

Best case scenario…well, that was easy to imagine, and it sent my hormones into delirium. So I focused on that, enjoying the fantasy while I alphabetized horror novels, hoping my own story wouldn’t have a grisly ending.