“Mmm.” Maxine nodded with enthusiasm. “Those two are my favorites, Arthur. But you can come up to the house and choose whichever you like.”

He was fascinated. He’d had a glimpse of how this woman worked; it would be interesting to see what her books were like. And if he could see her in them.

Maxine was enough of a fan, and she missed her home enough, that he and George didn’t say much. Fine with him. He wanted to know more about Meg, and he enjoyed watching her. He liked her quick intelligence and the thoughtful way she answered questions she must have been asked hundreds of times.

When Joe appeared a little overwhelmed, he excused himself.

George soon found an excuse to sidle up to the bar. “I haven’t seen you that smitten since Keira Knightley came into the pub.”

“Do me a favor, George?”

“Drop dead? Mind my own business? Do something vulgar to myself that will no doubt involve my bottom?”

“Walk Meg home.”

“Pardon?”

“She’s new here and I think a little scared of the dark. I’d appreciate it if you and Maxine would walk her right to her door on your way home.”

George stared at him as though he’d gone mad. “Wouldn’t you rather walk her home yourself?”

Of course he would, but the woman had jet lag and he wasn’t in the mood to make a fool of himself.

“Too busy. And she’s exhausted, can’t you see it?” Her eyes had that smudged look and her smiling response to what was obviously Maxine’s continued gushing was becoming mechanical.

“Yes, of course. Should have seen it myself. Can’t have the tenants dropping dead of fatigue. At least, not before they’ve paid the rent. Right. I’ll try and get her away from her most enthusiastic fan.”

“Cheers.”

With George’s usual social dexterity, he had the women on their feet and headed out the door before Maxine had quite realized she was leaving.

Arthur was gratified to see Meg turn as they reached the door and search him out. Across the noise and bodies, their gazes met and held for one of those timeless moments. When you’ve had a good sleep, he promised her silently, you’ll be hearing from me.

In an instant she was gone.

The banging on the door pulled Meg out of an intricate scene. It was like a chess game, keeping so many things in her head and trying to see several moves ahead. She felt almost as murderous as her villain when she stomped to the door and yanked it open.

“What?” Then the scowl dropped off her face. “Oh, Maxine. I’m sorry, I-”

“Sorry to bother you like this, but your phone’s not working.”

“Yes, it is. I unplugged it. I always do when I’m working.”

“God, I’m sorry. I’ve disturbed you.”

Well, that was the truth, but there was something about Maxine that made her impossible not to like. Besides, she had purchased all of Meg’s books. In hardcover, Meg was sure. So she forced a smile to her face and pushed her hair out of the way. “It’s good to see you. Do you want some tea?”

“No. But you look like you could use some. In fact,” her new friend said with devastating frankness, “you look like hell.”

“I probably do.” Meg was pretty sure she’d showered this morning, but she had no idea what she was wearing, if or what she’d eaten today, or even what day it was. She grinned. “The book’s going really well.”

“Then I’d hate to see you when it’s not. Look. Have you eaten lunch?”

“I’m not sure.” She glanced at the kitchen, looking for hints. There was a cup with a tag hanging out-that was the herbal green tea from breakfast. Whatever else she’d eaten was a mystery. She’d cleaned up after herself.

“Tell you what. I’ll come in and make you lunch and a cup of tea. I’m not staying, but you really look like you could use a meal.”

Meg blinked. She felt disoriented, as though she’d been ill or in solitary confinement, which, come to think of it, she had. Self-imposed solitary confinement. She followed Maxine into the kitchen.

“So I came to invite you to watch the boys play soccer tomorrow,” Maxine said, “and come to dinner at our place after.”

“Boys? I didn’t know you had kids.”

Maxine laughed. A good, rich sound. “Big boys. George and Arthur, among others. They play soccer two Saturdays a month. Overgrown schoolboys who still like to run around in shorts and push each other into the mud. I thought we’d have a few people back for dinner.”

“By your place, I assume you mean the castle?”

“Not a castle, honey. A house. And if you ever figure out how a five-hundred-year-old pile of stone with hundreds of rooms doesn’t count as a castle, you let me know.” While she talked, she bustled about the small kitchen and Meg was still too stunned to stop her. She realized she’d become a little obsessed, so driven to work while the writing was going well that she’d lost touch with the world.

“So? Can you tear yourself away?” Maxine was opening the tiny fridge and poking in cupboards.

“I don’t know. Is amateur soccer something I’d enjoy watching?”

Maxine glanced up from her position crouched on the floor. “Between us? They look hot as hell.”

“I’m not sure-”

Maxine rose. “You have no food in this place and the milk’s sour. I am staging an intervention. Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To get you some lunch.”

“The café?”

“The castle.”

“I thought it wasn’t a castle.”

“Quit stalling. Come on.”

“I need to back up my files. And comb my hair.” She glanced down at herself. “And change my clothes.”

“I’ll wait.”

Meg glanced longingly at her computer. What if she left and the muse took off, too? Could she take that chance? “If I paid you fifty bucks would you leave?”

“Not a chance. Guests who work themselves to death don’t give the place the right ambience.”

“Okay.” She sighed heavily but there wasn’t much heat behind the gesture. She had to back up her files first on the device she kept on her key chain. It went everywhere with her, in case her house burned down when she was out. She had a secondary backup system, of course.

When she sat down to back up, she noticed she’d left a sentence half finished. She hated doing that, so she finished the sentence. And then she was worried that she’d forget where the scene was going. Maybe she could get in a couple of paragraphs before Maxine noticed…

The hand waving in front of her face startled her. “Whaa…?”

She turned to find Maxine staring at her and shaking her head. “You were somewhere completely different. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so scared I’ll lose the momentum. You don’t know how long it’s been since the writing’s flowed like this.” She inhaled and noticed a wonderful aroma of food. Real, cooked food that hadn’t come out of a can or box. She looked around and noticed a tray sitting on the low table in front of the couch. “How did you…? I thought we were going to the castle for lunch.”

“I lost you. After I called your name twice and you didn’t answer, I figured you were going to be a dud for lunch company. And you seemed so happy typing away that I walked over to the pub. It’s today’s lunch special. Vegetable soup, a Cornish pasty and salad. Now you sit down and eat while I make some tea.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not staying. I’ve got some things to do. I really only came over to invite you for tomorrow. And I’m picking you up, by the way, so you don’t end up forgetting.”

Meg knew she should feel guilty, and in fact she did, but she decided to simply be grateful for the food delivery instead. The soup was incredible. The Cornish pasty, a pastry-wrapped meat dish, was delicious and filling. By the time the tea was ready, she’d forked down the last of the salad and was feeling all the contentment of enjoying her first decent meal in days.

“Please stay and have some tea with me. I could use the company.”