Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 117740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“On a serious note…” Eleanor cradled her mug and looked into it. “Oliver isn’t a bad person, dear. He’s making what I think is a very bad decision, but—”
“I know,” I said. “He has his reasons. I don’t disagree with that, Eleanor. I understand perfectly why he’s doing it. I just don’t like it, and I’m going to keep fighting it.”
“As is your prerogative.” She smiled gently and met my eyes. “I wasn’t playing with you when I said you’re under Oliver’s skin, and I don’t believe it’s just because you’re making a nuisance of yourself and making his life hard.”
“Thank you. I take that as a compliment.”
Her eyes twinkled with laughter. “Honestly, dear, I think he likes you.”
“Well, if those words aren’t nightmare fuel, I don’t know what is.”
“Rose…”
I couldn’t have this conversation right now.
I finished my coffee and softly set down the mug. “Eleanor, I appreciate that you mean well when you say that, but if you tell me you aren’t going to meddle, then please keep your word. Our relationship is… complicated, I admit, but it’ll never be defined the way you wish it to be. Regardless of whatever feelings one of us may or may not possess for the other, he’s still destroying the place I love most in the world. Some things can’t be forgiven, and for me, selling the allotments is one of those. A part of me will always resent that, and I’m unwilling to subject myself or a partner to a relationship where even a sliver of resentment is present.”
I got to my feet, and she sighed heavily. “I was afraid you were going to say that. I like you, Rose, and I just don’t want to see either of you hurt by the lines you’ve blurred.”
I smiled bitterly, grabbing my bag. “You’re right. Both of us are far too old to be playing around. Don’t worry—when it comes down to it, the only one who’ll be hurt is me.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Thank you for the coffee, but I have to get going or Louis Carpenter will skin me alive.” With that, I turned away from her and headed out of the cafe.
Well, that was what I got for thinking a de Havilland would make my day better.
Historically speaking, I really should have known better.
“This is the recommended setup,” Deb said, handing me a sheet of paper. “Your mum really helped us out. The council were against expanding the fair, but she laid down the law and they ultimately gave us permission.”
I winced. If my mother had laid down the law, then she was practically running this town like a mafia lord now. The woman was a master of deceit—everyone thought she was a kind, sweet lady always willing to lend a hand, but she was actually a rabid bull who had no qualms about breaking down a door or two to get what she wanted.
And, really, everyone was surprised that there was a jail cell with my name on it.
No wonder the woman never bailed me out. She was probably afraid she’d get thrown in there with me for blackmail or something.
An excellent point.
What did she have on the mayor to get her own way?
Hmm.
“Do we really have this many vendors interested in coming?” I asked Deb, scanning the list.
“Yes!” She practically bounced on her heels, and for a moment, I feared she’d put her hip out or something. “Some business owners from nearby towns are aware of what’s happening, and many entrepreneurs expressed their willingness to help us and signed up. One of them is even one of those influency people on that app where you discuss Waffles’ sex life, and she’s going to help us spread awareness.”
That was one way to describe my Instagram account.
“It’s a shame it isn’t the time for our naked calendar,” I mused.
“Well, she does run yoga classes, so she’s offering some during the craft fair.”
First, it was just a fruit and vegetable stall.
Then, it was local businesses and artists.
Now, there were yoga classes.
Were we organising a market or a summer festival?
Something told me I really shouldn’t voice that particular question, lest I jinx it.
It wouldn’t surprise me if we ended up with a week-long soiree, complete with a bucking bull ride, giant noughts and crosses, and candy bloody floss stalls.
Two knocks sounded at the open door followed by a very unwelcome, “Am I interrupting?”
I narrowed my eyes and swung my attention towards the interloper. “If you have to ask, then the answer is yes.”
Oliver cocked his head to the side. “Forgive me, but you appear rather confused by whatever it is you’re looking at.”
“Well, at this very moment, I find myself confused by your appearance,” I replied, quickly turning my back on him. “I guess we’ll just roll with it,” I said to Deb, handing her back the list. “Are you still all right to co-ordinate all this? If you need some help—”