Page 21 of Henhouse
Effie shrugged, but her smile spread wide, indicating that she thought he was more thankind of cool, and it did ridiculous things to his ego. His own smile must have shown it because she said, “Don’t be so smug.” She scrunched her face like she’d bitten into something sour.
“Seems like it doesn’t pay to be sassy there, Effie dear,” he chided.
“Don’t call me that,” she barked, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Why not?”
“My grandmother calls me that.”
“Noted,” Theo said as the timer on his phone went off. “Good news, Eggplant. You passed.”
“Don’t call me that either.”
“Sign here.” He pointed to the line at the bottom of the page that acknowledged they had gone over everything and that she released his company from any liability regarding accidents in the future. Just because it was his job to be thorough and make everyone as safe as possible didn’t mean that things didn’t occasionally go sideways and result in someone getting hurt.
He watched as Effie signed her name with a flourish, dotting theiwith a little heart. “Do you always do that?” he found himself asking, and some insane part of him wished she did it just for him.
“Always,” she said. “It was cutesy when I was twelve and I never stopped.”
He took the clipboard back and lingered a beat. “What are you doing this weekend?”
“Why? You want me to watch Talia shove her tongue down your throat again?”
So she had seen, and it irked her.Apparently. “No? What?”
“I know you didn’t really want me to come out last night. You were being nice and expected me to say no,” she said a touch softer like she battled between her armor and her vulnerability.
“That’s not true.” Except that it was. He may have shared Talia’s penchant for attention but definitely did not get off on awkward social interactions the way she did. It was like she was making up for all the bullying she’d endured by being a pot-stirring flirt in her twenties. Theo didn’t know what else to say, because the look on Effie’s face told him she didn’t believe him anyway.
“But I’m glad you let me join,” she admitted. “It was nice to do something different with new people. Even if Talia thought it was some kind of drama. Which it wasn’t, by the way. You’re not my type,”she said flatly.
Also noted.Wow, she knew how to draw hard lines real fast.He didn’t catch her gaze dipping to his biceps or his hair or anything. “Well, I guess we’re done here.”
“Guess so.” Effie sighed, and Theo couldn’t read the emotion behind her eyes as she forced herself to hold his gaze. Like eye contact was a challenge. It had his skin prickling, so maybe it was. He nodded once and made for the door, pausing in front of her, his face mere inches from hers.
“See you around, Effie Thatcher.”
“Bye, Theo,” she said through tight teeth, and he swore he heard her breath hitch behind his name.
But it didn’t matter. Effie was as infuriating as the first day they met, but now for totally different reasons. He stalked through the store, giving Basil a terse wave before exiting to his van and leaving Effie—and the attention she’d stopped giving—behind. Good riddance.
13
Effie and Hope sat at their usual spot in the Book and Bar—a pair of cozy leather armchairs by the large front window. It offered the best natural light and was offset from the large farm tables so that the roar of chatter dulled to a pleasant hum in the background. Perfect for reading, sipping, and gabbing without distraction. Unless of course they turned their attentions outside and watched the flurry of people that filled the streets of Market Square, which they often did.
But today, they were both focused.
Effie, dressed casually in a pair of cropped jeans she’d embroidered with sunflowers on the cuffs and a loose white V-neck beneath her mauve cardigan, flipped through a stack of printed pages bound with a binder clip. She wielded a red pen like a teacher, the cap pinched between her teeth.
Hope’s sideways glance was an impatient inquiry. “I’m almost done,” Effie snipped.
“Fine,” Hope groaned.
Effie smirked as her cousin took a casual sip of her club soda, but Hope’s tapping foot gave away her anxiety. Effie was certain Hope hadn’t actually been reading the sizable tome in her hands and likely scanned the same paragraph over and over while she waited for Effie to finish reading the rewrites of her manuscript.
Effie finished the pages and looked at Hope. “I don’t know why you bother having me read these ahead of time,” she confessed. Hope scowled. “It’s not like I have a writing degree or any insight into how things should be written. I tell you they’re great, and I feel like that’s not helpful.”
Hope laughed. “So they’re great?”
