Page 37 of For My Finale
She could see the end of the path now, the light breaking through where she would meet the main village street. “Absolutely not.”
Margot huffed. “So there’s no one?”
“No,” Lilah said, as she rushed through the gap in the hedge and emerged out onto the street. Her eyes immediately landed on Blossom.
She was standing by the back of a delivery van, carefully unloading boxes of cakes. She was still wearing shorts, and an oversized button-down, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her hair falling in curls around her face. The setting sun bathed her in golden light like she was some sort of angel or something and for a moment… Lilah just stared.
Blossom’s brow furrowed in concentration as she carefully lifted a tray, biting her lip as she adjusted her grip. The sight sent a strange, warm sensation curling in Lilah’s stomach. Something unfamiliar and yet, oddly, not unwelcome.
She swallowed.
It was like she’d spent so long feeling empty, hollowed out by her career and the expectations that came with it, that shehadn’t even noticed how much space had been left inside her. But now, standing here, watching Blossom handle cakes like they were precious artifacts, Lilah felt something shift. A slow, quiet filling up.
“There’s no one then?” Margot demanded again.
Lilah barely registered the question. Her fingers curled around the edge of her phone, holding onto the firm metal, her gaze was locked on Blossom, the way she moved, the way she smiled to herself, the way she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear with the back of her wrist.
And for just an instant, she truly considered answering the question honestly.
Then a car crept by and reality came back and Lilah cleared her throat, forcing her voice into something cool and detached. “I’m absolutely certain.”
Margot made an unimpressed noise. “Lilah, darling, you’re an exceptional actress, I simply never know when to believe you.”
Lilah ignored her, watching Blossom laugh as Arty came past and hefted a box from her arms.
“Gotta go,” Lilah said, hanging up before Margot could protest. She stuffed her phone into her pocket, squared her shoulders, and forced herself to keep walking toward the village hall, keeping her face impassive.
Totally ignoring the way her heart had started beating just a little too fast.
She was probably still stressed about bulls, she told herself. But not even she believed that one.
???
Blossom sat on a creaky old wooden chair. The village hall always smelled of dust and sweat. Probably because the primary school down the street used it for PE. She could distinctly remember running around in here wearing shorts and a little t-shirt, not caring whether she won a game, just wanting to play.
She waited until the rehearsal was in full flow, Gloria loudly declaring one of her many monologues before she turned to Ives. She kept her voice as low as she could.
“Listen,” she said. “It’s about the cafe.”
Ives’s eyebrows raised. “We’re going to get into that now? I was giving you at least another week of keeping your head buried in the sand. What happened to ignoring the problem until it magically went away? Or just pretending to everyone, including your very best friend in the whole world, that everything was fine?”
“Alright, alright,” Blossom said, suitably admonished. “I get it. I’m sorry. But you know what I’m like. If it helps, I truly do believe that things turn out for the best.”
Ives grunted.
“Anyway, I’m working on a business plan and I’m going to go and see the bank about a loan, just to tide things over while I come up with something better.”
“Mmmhmm,” said Ives, looking impressed. Then she narrowed her eyes. “And where exactly is this sudden burst of motivation and self-confidence coming from?”
Blossom hesitated. She could deflect, she supposed. But she knew Ives too well to think she’d get away with that. And Bankton was a small town, gossip traveled fast. “Lilah,” she admitted eventually. “She, um, gave me a talking to. Some advice.”
“Bloss, please tell me you’re not still crushing on the woman,” Ives groaned.
“I’m not crushing on Lilah Paxton.”
“Really? You mean that?”
“Yes,” Blossom said firmly. “I’m a grown adult, not a love-lorn teenager.”
