Page 49 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
“Any visitors would be good right now.”
They discussed marketing options for a solid forty minutes, until Elinor yawned again. “I should get to bed. But I’ll send some more suggestions about both your social media and website, and we can chat again soon.”
“That’d be awesome. Sorry for keeping you up late. Good thing you’re so pretty you don’t need your beauty sleep, huh?”
Her sister made a face. “Love you.”
“Love you too. Oh, and don’t tell Mum yet, okay? I just want to get through the next couple of weeks before saying anything.”
Ellie mimed a zipped lip and thrown key, waved, and then left the call.
Liv’s phone buzzed with notifications about missed calls. Marge. Tobias. Some unknown numbers. She listened to messages. Marge had coffee urns, teapots, and freshly baked-at-the-pub hot scones happening around the back. That message had been sent half an hour ago. Oops. She opened the door, saw the Entrance Hall’s cleaners had moved on to the Green Drawing Room, and hurried to let them know.
Tobias had called asking if she knew where the mower was. She called him back and told him to ask Liam about the mower, before telling him also about the morning tea break.
The other calls she listened to while she hurried around to the café area. One was a spammer, the other from a local newspaper reporter, Gerald Hawker, who had heard about the Hall’s reopening plan. Well, that’d make for some excellent publicity! She called Gerald back and set up a time to meet on Wednesday, by which stage she hoped enough had been done to take some excellent photos, while still giving time for them to get their story published before their opening on the weekend.
“Thank you for agreeing to this,” Gerald said. “I tried to call Liam, but he never returns my calls.”
Because the man seemed to have zero interest in connecting with the real world. Still, the fact that there was interest meant word of mouth was already at work, which was great. Maybe this crazy idea of reopening so soon would actually work!
Excitement gave new energy as she finally joined the others who stood near the carriage archway. Here, Marge had set up a trestle table and there was one scone left, probably cold now. Still, by now everyone would surely have eaten, so she could probably afford to eat the final one. She helped herself to the remaining now-tepid coffee, added a splash of milk, and then got the last scone—sure enough, it was cold—before going to inspect Marge’s handiwork in the kitchen.
“Wow.” Just standing here at the door, she could see how much had been done. “It’s looking good,” she called.
“Ah, so you got here at last.”
Liv winced. “Sorry, I had a bit on, and I was talking with my sister so I missed your call.”
Marge sighed. “Well, it doesn’t matter as long as people don’t mind cold tea and coffee and scones.”
Another wince. “I think I finished off the rest of the coffee. And the last scone.”
“Well, never mind. It’s not that long until lunch now, I expect. Have you got the barbecue going?”
The barbecue! “I’m on it.”
Marge shook her head. “You’re going to have to manage your time a little better if you want your volunteers to be happy campers.”
She nodded, heat filling her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’ll go sort it out now.”
She turned suddenly and ploughed into a solid chest, the dregs of coffee splashing all over her poor victim.
Liam.
Liam bit back a word, grimacing as the cold coffee seeped through his shirt. Honestly, this woman seemed to have perfected the way to get under his skin. Not only had she spilled her coffee, she’d also had the rudeness to be eating what looked to be the last of the scones. And after the morning he’d had, he was hungry.
“Do you mind?” he snapped.
“I’m so sorry,” Liv murmured. She reached out and started wiping his shirt.
He flinched, and she seemed to realize what she was doing.
“Oh my gosh.” Her cheeks were rosy. “I didn’t mean to touch you.”
No, because he wasn’t handsome, apparently. And yes, he was being childish because he’d been so unfortunate as to overhear her describe him as such, earning an eavesdropper’s reward while walking past the open window. But he was tired after cleaning the fountain and dealing with volunteers, some of whom hadn’t been reticent in offering their opinions about the maintenance of the gardens in recent years.
“Um, did you want a drink? I’m afraid there’s no more coffee, but there might still be some tea. And look.” Liv held out the half-eaten scone. “I’m happy to share if you haven’t eaten yet.”
