Page 115 of The Frog Prince

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Page 115 of The Frog Prince

Inside the lobby, Barb’s balloon crew has just about finished transforming the old art deco theater into a kiddie paradise.

But Barb hasn’t just sent her crew; she’s there, too, and she spots me by the concession stand and comes over and gives me a huge hug. “How are you doing?”

I pull the package of Rolaids out of my pocket and show her. “Good.”

She chuckles. “It’s going to be fine. The kids will have a ball. I loveThe Blob—”

“That’s what we’re seeing?” I interrupt, vaguely remembering the black-and-white horror film from the ’50s, a story about a flesh-eating blob from outer space that gets bigger with each kill, and nothing about it strikes me as appropriate for children.

“It’s a classic.”

“The blob kills people.”

“No kid today will be frightened by it. Even in the sixties people thought it was corny.”

I’m not so sure, and I reach for another Rolaids.

“What are you eating?” a male voice asks, and I know that voice. I turn around to find Brian Fadden standing in the theater lobby.

He’s still tall and rather rumpled, but he’s got the makings of a tan, and he looks so at ease in his jeans and denim shirt. “Rolaids. Want one?”

He lifts a hand. “I’ll pass.”

I pop another one into my mouth. “I don’t remember sending you an invite to Kid Fest.”

“Tessa did. She thought you could use the moral support.”

“I thought she was coming.”

“She was. But at the last minute Josh invited her on a weekend getaway. So they got away.”

“And here you are.”

“You’re disappointed.”

“I’m not.” Barb moves away, and I walk toward Brian, and it’s like walking toward a great friend. It’s really wonderful to see him. He’s disgustingly tall and very smart, as well as funny and creative and kind to me. “I’m glad to see you. It’s been a long time.”

“Six months.”

“Wow.”

“So do you have a new boyfriend?”

“No.” I grimace. “I think I scare most guys away.”

He laughs, and the sound is deep and husky and makes me smile. “Let me take you to dinner after Kid Fest ends.”

I hesitate.

“Come on,” he says, his smile slipping a little.

“Okay. But on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“I get to pay.”

His wry grin is back. “Deal.”




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