Page 14 of Novel Problems

“Trust me, it is,” George said, her eyes sparkling.

As we walked back to the counter, George cleared her throat. I looked over to her just in time to catch another indecipherable expression cross her face. “Hey, absolutely no pressure—you probably have plans anyway or might just want to go home and crash—but tonight, a few friends and I are going to an outdoor movie night down at Dockside Park if you’re interested in coming? Ben was going to come, but he obviously can’t, so we have a spare ticket you’re more than welcome to have. Dinner is included.”

Nerves fluttered in my belly. I hadn’tsocialized properly with anyone for months. I’d been getting along well with George, but that had come about organically as we worked together. The thought of being thrust into a situation where the sole purpose was to interact with strangers sent my anxiety spiking. Before the break-up with Tania, my social anxiety hadn’t been this bad, but months of avoiding people had clearly exacerbated things. Would I be able to hold a conversation with George’s friends? And I really should go home and workshop how to tell George I was her favorite author, H. M. Stuart. But spending time with George, outdoors on a gorgeous evening, sounded a lot more appealing. If talking to her friends was a struggle, at least she’d be there too. And maybe, in a more relaxed setting outside of work, the perfect opportunity would present itself to confess to George.

“Thanks. That would be nice,” I said, hoping I’d made the right call.

“Awesome. We’re meeting there at eight p.m.” George unlocked the drawer under the counter and handed me my bag. “Oh, and before I forget, are you happy to hold on to a spare key to the café? Just in case something happens, and I need you to open one day or lock up. Ben has a spare too.”

Guilt mixed with pleasure rose in my body. George trusting me enough to share the key to Novel Gossip was touching, but it also signaled just how deep into this situation I’d already gotten myself. Would George still trust me once I told her who I really was?

CHAPTER EIGHT

GEORGE

Finally satisfied with my outfit choice—gray jeans and a plain navy tee (not an outfit that should have taken ten minutes to select)—I grabbed my keys and a light sweater, gave Max a head rub and bounded down the stairs and out into the warm evening air.

Ever since I heard H. M. Stuart would be dropping into Novel Gossip, I’d been buzzing with nervous excitement. He was notoriously private. I’d Googled him after devouring the firstRealmsbook, and the bio on his publisher’s website had simply said “H. M. Stuart is a New York City-based fantasy author.” No social media. No author website. Nothing. It was very unusual these days for authors not to have some social media presence.

Ben had—quite rightly—assumed when the publicist called that I’d be thrilled to meet my favorite author in the flesh and had agreed to accept the delivery on my behalf. The email Ben had sent me about it, the one that had gotten lost in the mountain of unread emails that had been piling up the last few days, had mentioned that the publicistrequested we keep all information regarding H. M. Stuart confidential and not make it public knowledge that H. M. Stuart was staying in Sapphire Springs. That request had only served to fuel my interest in him.

When I’d spoken to the distributor on the phone, they’d told me pick-up had been scheduled for Friday afternoon, so my encounter with my favorite author was imminent. At some point in the next two days, H. M. Stuart would be gracing Novel Gossip with his presence.

The high I got at the news had even buoyed me to invite Hannah out tonight. I’d been on the fence all day about whether it was a good idea or not, especially after the unintentionally intimate coffee-making lesson. Now, I was glad I had.

I walked down Main Street trying to think of intelligent things I could say to H. M. Stuart. I hoped he didn’t turn out to be a dick. But I doubted it, based on how perceptive and empathetic his characters were.

As I reached the end of Main Street and crossed over to Dockside Park, I gave up brainstorming discussion points and drank in the scene before me instead. The evening sun was still strong enough to send sparkles over the Hudson River and light the hills on the other side with a golden glow. The grassy park was a lush green. I paused as I spotted the area that had been set up for the movie night.Huh. This is a lot fancier than I was expecting.

Jenny had suggested we attend and purchased tickets for us, and Blake, in typical fashion, had just told me it was an outdoor movie night with food included. She hadn’t even been sure what movie was showing. For some reason, I’d assumed that we’d sit on picnic blankets, enjoying popcorn, pizza, and cheap wine. While I’d been surprised that the tickets were $80 each, this was SapphireSprings’ first outdoor movie night in living memory, and I wanted to support local initiatives, so I’d forked up the cash without giving it much thought.

Now, it was clear why the tickets were so expensive. A large screen was set up near the river. In front of it were rows of small round tables covered in crisp white tablecloths with candles in the middle. Two chairs sat at each table next to each other, facing the screen. I counted four forks and four knives at each table setting. I raised my eyebrows. It looked like, instead of popcorn and pizza, we were in for a fancy four course meal. A crowd of locals milled around, chatting while waiting to be seated.

“George!” I turned to see Jenny and Blake walking up, hand in hand. Jenny, in a bright-red romper, her long blonde hair out, looked very much like the influencer she used to be. Blake wore navy chinos and a white t-shirt. They seemed happy and relaxed. I grinned. I was so glad they had found each other. Recently, seeing them together had made me think about whether I should dip my toes back in the dating pool, but work had been so busy I’d had no time to even look into it, let alone date someone.

“Hi!” I gave them both a hug. “Thanks for organizing this. It looks incredible.”

Jenny smiled. “I can’t wait! When I was working last night, Sam was telling me about the 1980s-themed cocktails she’s created to pair with the food, and they sound amazing.”

“Oh, great!” Okay, this was going to be alotfancier than I’d expected. Sam, the bartender at River’s Edge, made a mean cocktail, and I was assuming her involvement meant that River’s Edge was doing the food as well.

Olivia and Amanda approached in the distance, and I waved them over.

“Wow! This is amazing. This would be a perfect date night. Next time I’ll drag Peter along,” Amanda exclaimed as they joined us. It was Amanda’s wedding to Peter last year that had brought Jenny and Blake together.

An uneasy feeling, the source of which I couldn’t place, washed over me, but I pushed it away.

“And here’s Hannah,” Olivia said, nodding toward Main Street.

My heart rate increased as my gaze landed on Hannah walking toward us in navy shorts that ended halfway down her thighs, a white, short-sleeved blouse, and white sneakers. Her hair, which she’d worn tied up to work today, was down. She looked stunning.Damn. She could be a model for J. Crew.

Hannah tucked a stray hair behind her ear as she scanned the growing crowd. As she spotted us, her face broke into a broad grin, and she strolled over. I focused on breathing slowly in an effort to regulate my pulse.

I’d just finished introducing her to everyone when the owner of River’s Edge, standing next to the big screen, started speaking into a microphone. “If everyone could please take their seats, we’ll be starting the event shortly. Seats are allocated. Please refer to your ticket for the seat number.”

Jenny pulled the tickets out of the back pocket of her romper and began handing them out. The unease I’d ignored earlier came rushing back, and this time, the reason was clear. As Amanda had noted, the whole set-up—white tablecloths, candles, two chairs side-by-side—looked extremely date-like. All it was missing was rose petals, and it could be a Valentine’s Day event. And, of course, given I was the only person who actually knew Hannah, it would make sense that we’d sit together. If it’d been Ben, Iwouldn’t have given it a second thought—except, perhaps, to chuckle about it with him. But with Hannah, things were different.

The last two days, whenever I had a spare moment, I’d found my eyes drifting in her direction. I’d watched her interact with customers with kindness, efficiently deliver and clear away food and drinks, and talk passionately about books, her whole face lighting up with excitement. There was no point in denying that I was attracted to her. But she was also my employee, and she was married. Two very good reasons why things could go no further. And also two reasons why being seated together under romantic date night conditions was less than ideal.

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