Page 38 of Novel Problems

“But you said she’s a bestselling author. Why do you think she wants to work at Novel Gossip? Maybe it’s not for money. Perhaps it’s more like a hobby for her—like Dad being my receptionist so he can chat with people—or maybe even research for her book? And if that’s the case, maybe the power imbalance stuff isn’t relevant. If things didn’t work out between you, and she didn’t want to work thereanymore, perhaps it wouldn’t be a big deal for her at all. If anything, you might need her more than she needs you, given how run off your feet you’ve been.”

I frowned. “We don’t know what her financial situation is. She could have debts to pay off or sick family to support and need the extra cash.”

“Yeah, fair point.” Blake furrowed her brow. “Let’s say the whole power imbalance thing wasn’t an issue. Would you be interested in exploring things further with her?”

“I think so. She’s gorgeous, funny and I love spending time with her.”

“But?” Blake asked.

“I guess my only other concerns are whether I really have enough time for a relationship at the moment and the fact Hannah is H. M. Stuart. Things have been so hectic at work lately. I’ve lost some customers to Dippin’ Donuts because of how understaffed we’ve been, and I’ve had no time to focus on planning events.”

“Well, now that you have Josie and Hannah on board, won’t that solve the first problem?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Blake was probably right, but I still had Betty’s friend’s comment ringing in my ears. “I still haven’t even wrapped my head around the fact that Hannah is H. M. Stuart. It…well, the whole idea of dating my favorite author feels a bit unreal.”

“Honestly, it sounds like you’re overthinking this whole thing. You dated one of your favorite politicians. Why not your favorite author too?” Blake raised her eyebrow. “Seriously, what is it with you and famous people?” She chuckled.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I hadn’t made that connection before. But Hannah was different to Alexis. Alexis had actively sought media attention—sheneeded it to be elected. Hannah was the complete opposite. The Hannah Taylor I had kissed wasn’t famous. Only her alter ego, H. M. Stuart, was. And given Hannah kept her pen name secret, it wasn’t like I’d have to deal with the sort of unwelcome media attention I’d experienced dating Alexis.

“Yeah, maybe. Anyway, despite your forensic analysis of our kiss, I’m still not at all convinced that Hannah is interested in actually dating me.”

“In that case, why don’t you just talk her about last night and your worries about the power imbalance, and see what she says. Maybe she’ll be able to put your mind at rest.”

I sighed. “I’m sure that’s the sensible course of action. My brain is just feeling fried at the moment. I’m taking Monday off—my first day off in months—so I think I’ll see how Josie goes tomorrow now I’ve trained her and how they cope without me on Monday. If that all goes well, then I’ll be less worried about having time for a relationship, and it will also give me some time to work through my feelings.” I popped a fry in my mouth, chewed, and swallowed it.

If Blake was right about Hannah’s motivations for working at the café, then Hannah being H. M. Stuart could make me feel more comfortable about pursuing a relationship with her. A buzz of excitement rose in my chest.

“Well, give it some thought.”

“Yeah, I will. In the meantime, I’ll just keep things friendly but professional with Hannah, which shouldn’t be too difficult since she’s not working tomorrow. Olivia invited her kayaking this afternoon, but at least that’ll be a group activity, so no risk of accidental kisses.”

Blake grinned. “You once offered to chaperone me and Jenny. We can return the favor if you’d like.”

I chuckled. “I should be fine. Kayaking isn’t exactly the most romantic activity, especially not with my technique.”

“Oh, really? I look forward to seeing it,” Blake said with a laugh.

I took a bite of my burger, already feeling a lot better. Talking to Blake always helped. We hadn’t solved anything, but she’d helped me work through my concerns. All I had to do now was avoid any more intimate situations with Hannah until I had time to assess the new staffing arrangements and my feelings for her. Monday was only two days away. How hard could that be?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

HANNAH

George walked out of the kitchen wearing purple flip flops, pink flamingo board shorts that ended three quarters of the way down her thighs, and a light-gray tee. Her arms and legs were tanned and strong.

I forgot the bad news I had to tell her and stared, taking this vision in. She looked so relaxed and tropical. While I’d had a hard time imagining her growing up in Florida, I could see it now. It made me feel even worse for what I was about to say.

George stopped when she saw me, an expression I couldn’t pinpoint flickering across her face. “Hey! You’re still here? Sorry, I didn’t realize you were waiting for me.”

Heat crept up my cheeks. I’d assumed we’d walk down to the kayak rental together, an assumption that sent my heart pounding nervously each time I thought about it. That walk would be the obvious opportunity for us to talk about what happened last night.

The conflict-avoidant side of me did not want that talk to occur. Neither did the side of me that liked to have mythoughts properly gathered before embarking on a conversation like this. I found talking about feelings, especially in situations like this, where you weren’t sure what the other person thought, challenging.

But at the same time, I wanted to know what George was thinking. If she didn’t want anything more to happen, then that would nip the whole thing in the bud. I could stop agonizing over what I wanted, because the decision would be made for me. And based on George’s behavior today, that currently seemed like the most likely outcome. She’d been perfectly pleasant to me, but our interactions had been minimal, and I couldn’t shake the feeling she was keeping her distance.

And then there was that expression that had just flickered across her face—had it been dismay? My stomach sank. She was displaying all the signs that she regretted our kiss.

I should have felt relieved. After all, George not being interested seemed like the simplest resolution—I could go back to focusing on writing, working at Novel Gossip, and enjoying my budding new friendships with George and her gang without worrying about jeopardizing it all by pursuing a relationship with George. But disappointment crept up my body at the thought.

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