Page 29 of For My Finale
Roger, who had certainly been ordering the same beer in the same pub from the same bar stool since before either Lilah or Blossom were born, narrowed his eyes at her. “I like what I like, missy. Ain’t about to change just because you told me so.”
“Suit yourself,” said Lilah, pretending to be disappointed. “But when you’re ready to live an exciting life, you just let me know and I’ll pour you a real pint.”
Blossom stifled a laugh. Roger was glancing at his drink dubiously, but the corners of his mouth were twitching and she could see that Lilah was really getting to him. Not that stout wasthe more manly drink, but it didn’t hurt that it cost a pound more and Lilah was a genius at the up-sell.
But Lilah had already moved on, her charm offensive changing targets as she walked to the other side of the bar.
“And what’s your name?” she asked, leaning on the counter and wiggling her eyebrows at a woman in her late sixties who was wearing what could kindly be described as an interesting hat.
“Well, you can call me Mabel, my dear.”
“Mabel, I have to say, that is an absolutely extraordinary hat. I’m feeling positively underdressed in comparison,” Lilah said. “What’ll it be for you?”
“I’ll have a G and T,” Mabel said, adjusting the enormous arrangement of purple feathers that was sitting on top of her head. “This is my special occasion hat.”
“And what’s the occasion?” asked Lilah.
“It’s Thursday,” Mabel said, solemnly.
Lilah threw back her head and laughed. “Excellent answer. We should all be as optimistic as you. Now how about we make that G and T a double, eh?”
Blossom shook her head. After the museum debacle, she’d been expecting Lilah to be an absolute nightmare at something like this. She was supposed to be sulking or throwing tantrums, not smoothly endearing herself to half the town like some kind of social chameleon. Blossom had been more than prepared to witness a train wreck and clean up the mess. Instead, she was seeing Lilah fit in.
“You’re staring,” Ives said, dropping into the seat next to her.
Blossom started. “I am not.”
“Yes, you are,” said Ives. She raised an eyebrow. “About that teenage crush…”
“Ives…”
Ives sighed. “She’s attractive, I’m not denying that, Bloss. I’m just saying that, well…”
“Well what? She’s out of my league or she’s not into women or what?” Blossom asked, uncharacteristically a little irritated.
“God no,” Ives said, looking shocked. “So not out of your league. Jesus, Bloss, if you hadn’t been my best friend since we were six, I’d be marrying you myself, you’re such a catch.”
“You’re only dating men right now,” Blossom reminded her, slightly mollified.
“She’s just not likely to stick around long, is all,” said Ives. “I don’t want you all broken-hearted.” She sighed. “Speaking of which, we really need to talk about the cafe.”
Immediately, Blossom’s stomach twisted itself into a knot. She dropped her gaze to the untouched drink in front of her. “It’s fine.”
“Blossom.”
She swallowed and forced herself to look up. “It’s fine,” she said again.
“Are you sure?” Ives asked, her voice softer now. She tucked her dark hair behind one ear. Her tattoos were on full show tonight since she was out of teacher mode. “Because if you need help, I’m here. You just have to say the word.”
“It’s going to be fine,” Blossom said, smiling again. The lie slipped out so smoothly that she could almost believe it herself. Almost.
Ives shrugged. “Alrighty, if you say so.”
Blossom swallowed hard, guilt tightening in her chest. She didn’t want to lie to Ives. But admitting the truth would feel even worse. If she said the words out loud, if she admitted how bad things really were, well, it would make it all real. And she wasn’t ready for that.
Not yet.
Before Ives could press the issue any further, Daisy bounced up, her face alight with excitement. “Blossom, a new date! I’ve found the perfect person for you!”
