Page 47 of Novel Problems

Stepping closer, I put a dollop on my index finger and gently swiped it under both her eyes. Hannah’s soft breath tickled my face. Her mouth was only inches from mine. Our eyes locked, and a thrill rushed through me. I bit my lip. FRIENDS AND COLLEAGUES, remember. Hannah made it very clear.

I dragged my eyes away from hers, and without thinking, they dropped to the patch of skin on her chest that she’d also missed, and then down to the soft swell of her breasts rising up from under her tank top.Eyes up, George.Offering to help her had been a terrible idea.

I swallowed.

“George!” Blake yelled far too loudly as she appeared out of nowhere and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “I was wondering where you two had gone.”

I flinched and turned my head to stare at Blake. It was out of character for Blake to be so loud and demonstrative. Had she downed one too many beers, or was she suffering fromheatstroke?

Blake’s facial expression gave nothing away, but it did bring me back down to reality.

“Well, I think that’s good now,” I said to Hannah, my face feeling even hotter than before.

“What the hell was that?” I whispered to Blake as we made our way back to our table.

Blake frowned. “You told me to chaperone you to make sure you didn’t do anything with Hannah.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure I said Ididn’tneed you to chaperone.” Although, it was probably for the best Blake had interrupted us.

Blake shrugged. “Well, you definitely said you wanted to keep things ‘friendly but professional’ with her.”

“I was just applying aloe on her sunburn,” I said, wincing at the defensive tone in my voice.

Blake’s eyebrows rose. “George, you were standing inches away from her, staring at her boobs, and licking your lips. That did not scream ‘friendly but professional’ to me.”

I groaned softly. I couldn’t argue with that. My feelings toward Hannah were anything but professional. I sat back in my chair in the dappled sunlight, took a sip of beer, and shut my eyes for a moment. I had to focus on what I did have—sunshine, good food and drink, and the company of my friends—and accept that was all Hannah and I could be. Friends.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

HANNAH

“Here you go,” George said, as she placed a smoked salmon quiche and side salad in front of me with a smile.

“Thank you! I was salivating over this one all shift. It looks incredible.” I smiled back up at George, my gaze following her as she returned to making coffees on Hugo.

It had been seven days since our eventful kayaking trip. Seven days since we’d decided to be just friends. And in those seven days, I’d been replaying our conversation over and over in my head.

When George had apologized for kissing me, saying it was inappropriate, disappointment had flooded through me. All I’d heard was that she thought the kiss was a mistake, and I’d instinctively gone into self-protection mode, blurting out that it was best if we just stayed friends. But as I analyzed our conversation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that George had been about to go on to say something else, and I had cut her off. She’d never actuallysaidit was a mistake or that she wasn’t attracted to me. It was possible her only concerns with the kiss were because she was my boss. Butinstead of me giving her space to talk through them with me, I’d panicked and effectively shut the entire conversation down with my comment.

I sighed. At least things hadn’t felt too awkward between us—the easy, fun rapport we’d had on the kayak was still there. George had joined me for lunch after my shift twice, and last night, I’d met up with George, Olivia, Blake, and Jenny for a drink at Frankie’s. But I couldn’t escape the nagging sensation that I’d screwed up our conversation on the kayak and potentially ended it before it had properly started.

I took a bite of the quiche, which tasted just as good as it looked—crisp, buttery pastry and a creamy salmon filling—and let out a small groan of appreciation. After working from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., I was starving, and this was exactly what I needed. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw I’d just missed a FaceTime call from Barb. She’d emailed me last week, asking if I was free for a chat, and I’d forgotten I’d told her she could call me anytime after my shift ended.

The café was fairly quiet, in a post-lunch lull, and I was sitting at a table in the corner, away from the other customers. Calling Barb back wouldn’t be too disruptive, so I pulled on my noise-canceling headphones, dialed her number, and then balanced my phone against one of Olivia’s candles so it pointed toward me. Barb’s chin appeared on the screen, wobbled, and then her entire lovely wrinkled face appeared, framed by short curly gray hair, a broad smile on her face.

“Hannah! How are you, sweetheart?”

Barb’s voice filled me with warmth.

“I’m good! Just finished my shift. I’m still at the café, eating my lunch. Hopefully it’s not too noisy. Can you hear me okay?”

“Loud and clear, my girl.” Barb narrowed her eyes at me. “I hope you’re not overdoing it with all this waitressing and your writing.”

I smiled. Barb had always been the biggest supporter of my writing, patiently listening to me telling her stories as a child, helping me transcribe them onto paper, which I illustrated, and we stapled them together like books.

“I’m only working at the café for three or four hours at the most, and so far, the writing and the waitressing seem to complement each other pretty well. I write for a couple of hours in the morning, which is all I can usually do in one go anyway, and then head down here to work. Writing is so solitary it’s nice to have some human interaction and get myself out of my head for a while, and I love it when people ask for book recommendations. And then when I get home, usually after having a delicious lunch at the café”—I lifted up my plate so Barb could see the quiche—"I’m ready to start writing again.” For the last week, I’d usually written until bedtime, only stopping for a quick meal, which I’d usually eat on the deck. I loved spending time out there, surrounded by nature.

“Oh, are you at the café now?” Barb asked, her blue eyes flashing with interest. “Can you show me?”

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