“It’ll just be for fun.”
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
“What if we gave some of the money to charity? Would that persuade your do-gooder heart?” Her mum flashed her best persuasive smile.
“Because that’ll make humiliating Harry okay?”
“Listen”—her mum made placating motions with her hands—“I discussed this idea with the girls last night, and everyone agreed it’d be great. We should record it and put it online.”
“You want to humiliate Harry for all the world to see?”
“Not just Harry. People will do anything for their fifteen minutes of fame. I’m sure we’ll get people pleading with us to be next on the show.” Her mum could barely contain her excitement. “The pub already has a certain reputation thanks to Clive. We might as well capitalize on it.”
“I need to hop in the shower.” Josie barged past her mum to grab her things to change into.
“You still having breakfast with Harry?”
“Yes.”
“Will you ask her?”
“Mum.” Josie searched for the right words without telling her to simply go to hell. “If I do ask her, I’ll have to tell her why you’ve chosen her.”
“Because it’ll be funny.”
“Because you’ll be laughing at her.”
“With her. Stress that.” Her mum tapped a finger against an open palm.
“She’s going to think this is your way of getting revenge for the Clive business.”
“She may, but she’s arrogant, so she may think she can outsmart me.”
Josie sputtered, “She’s not arrogant. She’s one of the sweetest people I’ve met. Why can’t you see that?” Josie shook exasperated hands in the air.
Her mum blinked until a smile returned to her face. “That’s good. Tell her that malarkey. She’ll fall for it, hook, line, and sinker.” Her mum pretended pulling in a whopper of a fish. “Thanks, Josie. I’ve tapped you to be the emcee of the show. You’re witty with the right amount of American snark. Viewers will love it.”
“You do know it’s not actually a TV show. We don’t have producers, a TV crew, set, or any of the other components.”
“I’m working on it.” Her mum left Josie in the room.
“She’s lost her mind.” Josie grabbed her robe.
Harry was waiting in the café when Josie arrived.
“I forgot to return your jacket.” Josie held it in her arms. “Where’d you get it?”
“You like it?”
“Yes, but I got myself in a jam earlier when my mum saw me in it. I told her I recently purchased it, and she doesn’t forget details like that. It’s like she’s always trying to trip me up on the lies I tell her. I’d blocked that out when I decided to move home.” Josie stared down at Harry, her eyes taking in the swell of Harry’s cleavage. Could she stand over the woman for the entire breakfast?
Harry peered up into Josie’s eyes, seeming not to notice Josie’s ogling. “Do you often lie to your mum?”
“Uh, she brings it out in me.” Josie waved it away.
Harry seemed taken aback. “Why?”
“Because she’s always in my business.” Josie finally took a seat, denying her the pleasant view down Harry’s shirt.
Harry nodded as if she understood, but her forehead was still creased. “Tell you what, keep the jacket. I got it years ago, and I don’t even know if you can find one like it anymore.”
“I can’t steal your jacket.” Josie tried to hand it off again.
Harry pushed Josie’s hand away. “You aren’t. I’m giving it to you.”
Torn over the jacket and the guilt of knowing her mum was doing everything to humiliate Harry, Josie opted not to fight about the least trifling matter at hand. For the moment at least. “Okay. But I insist on paying for breakfast.”
“You’re a master negotiator.”
“I feel like a swindler. I’m positive the jacket cost way more than a full English breakfast.”
“A decade ago. The value has dropped significantly, I may be ripping you off.” Harry’s smile was sincere.
“Good. Rip me off.” It might assuage the guilt roiling through Josie.
The beginnings of a blush prickled Harry’s cheeks.
Remembering what they’d done hours earlier caused heat to form inside Josie.
The two of them stared at each other, seeming to communicate things no one else on the planet would comprehend. It was such an incredible feeling for Josie. In a terrifying way. Compound that with the feeling of culpability of not standing up to her mum… was it possible Josie was just as bad as her mum?
A waitress in jeans and a white T-shirt held a notepad. “Can I start you two off with tea or coffee?”
“Coffee for me,” Harry said.
“Tea please,” Josie piped up. “I think we’re ready to order. Two English breakfasts, please.”
When alone, Josie joked, “It’s hard to believe you’re the Brit and I’m the American.”
“I don’t understand how you don’t drink coffee in the morning. I can’t get my brain going without it.”
“It tastes like barf.”
Harry laughed. “Don’t hold back.”
“I thought you liked that about me. You weren’t complaining earlier.”
Excitement flittered in Harry’s eyes. “Only an idiot would complain about that.”
“Are you referring to my not holding back or”—Josie leaned over the table—“the way you wanted to be thanked in the woods for lending me the jacket?” Josie’s playful tone hopefully conveyed she wasn’t serious.
“Is that what it was?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that the custom here?”
“I was unaware of it until now, but it seems I need to buy a lot more jackets.”
Josie crossed her arms. “To hand them out to all the girls you stumble upon?”
“Perhaps just one in particular.”
“Sounds promising. Is the jacket incident causing the glint in your eyes?” Josie circled a finger in the air.
“You could say that.”
“I want to be absolutely clear about things from now on. What are you thinking about?”
“Where does Robin Hood run around?”
“Nottingham?” Josie didn’t sound confident at all. “I think I remember seeing his statue near the castle when I went with my mum years ago.”
“Be less specific.”
It hit Josie. “Oh, that’s your nerdy way of saying the woods. What about the woods do you like, Harry?” Josie fluttered her lashes and leaned on her forearms, drawing attention to her girls.
“Here you go.” The waitress placed a teapot down for Josie with an empty cup on a saucer and then Harry’s coffee. “Your food will be out soon.”
“Thank you,” Harry said, briefly looking at the woman, but her eyes returned to Josie’s assets.
“I’d love to know what you’re thinking right now.”
“You’re going to have to use your imagination.” Harry sipped her coffee.
“I am.” Josie held up her hand, indicating hold on a second.
Harry laughed. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking?”
“I’m not sure you want to hear it,” Josie said, sounding graver than she had intended.
“Uh-oh. What’s wrong?”
“Two things. One is annoying.”
“And the other?”
“Something we need to talk about.”
“Does it involve the two Cs in our lives?”
Josie shook her head.
“Okay, hit me up with the annoying one first. Ease me into things.”
“My mum wants to set you up on a date in front of the entire village.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“C-can you run that by me again?”
Josie shook her head. “I’d rather not. I feel slimy enough saying it once.”
“Why in the world would your mum want to set me up on a date? And how does the village
factor in?” Harriet tried her best to see the logic, but it was as if her brain spluttered like an outdated car unable to keep up with the newer models on the motorway.
Josie heaved a sigh, the one she released whenever her mum factored into the conversation. “Mum has it in her head that it would be a great idea to film a dating show in the pub, and she wants to be inclusive and feature lesbians.”
Harriet placed a hand on her chest. “I’m the lesbian?”
“So it seems.”
“But I would be the last lesbian—no, person—in Upper Chewford to sign up for something like this.”
“I think that’s her point.” Josie sipped her tea.
“How does something so absurd seem to make sense to her?” Harriet’s voice was too loud, and she shifted in her seat. “I’m sorry. I know she’s your mum.”
Josie grinned. “Don’t be. I like it when you get hot and bothered.”
Harriet started to drop the Eugenie thread but didn’t. “Nice try. Does your mum think I’ll agree to this absurdity as a way of penance? That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Partly. She also thinks I can convince you and you’re too smug to turn down the opportunity to show her up.”
“Basically, she has the worst opinion of me on all fronts.” Eugenie hadn’t even found out about Camilla and Clive yet. Harriet feared the woman would twist things to lay all the blame at Harriet’s feet, like she’d done with the blotter.
Josie shrunk into herself, retreating back in her seat as the waitress placed her plate down.
“Need anything else?” the woman asked.
They shook their heads.
As soon as the woman turned her back, Josie forked Harriet’s black pudding, while Harriet stabbed Josie’s grilled tomato.
“We’re like an old married couple.” Josie shivered.
“Not a happy thought for you?” Harriet sliced into one of the grilled sausages.
“It’s not that.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve seen couples who knew each other so well they stopped communicating completely, not needing to speak.”
“Are you afraid we would reach that stage too soon if we became more than… whatever we are?” Harriet made a sorry gesture for the awkward phrasing.
“I don’t know. I’m not one hundred percent certain about the thoughts going through my head.”
“Is that one of the reasons you don’t want anyone in the village to know we’re more than full English breakfast buddies?”
“Maybe. I know it’s not fair to you. You probably think it silly.”
“It confuses me. I think you’re fantastic, and I have no issues if anyone knows we’re… What are we?”
“Fr-friends?” Josie stumbled as if she knew the word would hurt.
Harriet swallowed some coffee. “I see.”
“I really hate it when you say that.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes me feel terrible, knowing something I said hurt you.”
Harriet didn’t waste the energy saying it didn’t hurt. She could see in Josie’s eyes she was well aware of how the butchered word had landed. “Are you asking me to agree to this dating show for your sake?”
“I don’t want you to do it. Not at all.”
“Why?” Harriet buttered her toast, doing everything she could to focus on the task.
“Because it’s not your thing.”
“Dating?”
“Being made a spectacle of. That’s how it would turn out. It’s the whole point of the show. To humiliate those involved for cheap laughs and publicity for the pub.”
“I see.”
Josie closed her eyes and held her head up with her palm. “I’m not handling this right.”
“What’s the second thing?”
Josie uncovered her eyes. “Maybe this isn’t the right moment.”
“That’s been the theme lately, hasn’t it? Might as well get it over with.”
Josie’s gaze momentarily fell to her plate, but with what seemed like monumental resolve, she looked Harriet in the eyes. “I’ve received a job opportunity back in the States.”
Harriet steadied her breathing. “What’s the offer?”
“Speechwriter for a Georgia politician.”
“I thought the election was over.”
“There’s always an election in the US. This is a special election for senator after the current one resigned due to a sex scandal. Another theme we can’t escape.”
Harriet ignored the last comment, laser focused on the question she was terrified of asking. “Are you interested?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation on that one. “When is the election?”
“Early spring.”
This relieved Harriet some. “You wouldn’t be gone that long, then.”
“It depends. If the candidate wins, there’s a strong possibility she’d be a contender for the Oval Office in eight years. She’s the It girl these days.”
“What does that mean?”
“It would be another shot at me working for a future president of the United States.”
From the glimmer in Josie’s eyes, this was something she wanted. “It sounds like a wonderful opportunity.”
“You think I should take it?”
“I think you want to take it, but I can’t tell you what to do.” Harriet squeezed her hands under the table, cutting off the circulation in all her fingers.
“But if you had a say, what would you tell me to do?” Josie’s eyes brimmed.
“To be true to what you want.”
“What if I want two different things?”
“Life has a funny way of doing that.” Harriet did her best not to display any emotion, not wanting to sway Josie in either direction.
Josie flicked a tear off her cheek.
“If you turned down the job, would you regret it?” Harriet asked.
“I-I don’t know.”
“I think you would, otherwise you wouldn’t be struggling with the decision.”
“Why aren’t you trying to convince me to stay?” Josie asked with anguish in her voice.
“Because it would be wrong of me to do so.” Harriet spooned some baked beans onto her toast and placed it in her mouth, reminding herself to chew before swallowing. Just act normal. Completely unfazed by the situation. To make it easier for Josie. Harriet could break down later. Josie needed her to be strong.
“But—”
Harriet squeezed Josie’s hand. “When do you have to leave?”
“There’s a flight later tonight they want me to catch.”
The thought their last time together would end up being a quick shag in the woods nearly crushed Harriet’s heart. There was no denying she was falling to pieces inside. “Do you need a ride to the airport?”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Josie, with hands shoved deep into her jeans pockets, walked across the village square with her head down, her mood plummeting further with each step.
“Hey, Josie.”
Josie looked up. “Theo.”
“Have you seen Harry? I have an idea for a new column in The Chronicles.”
“Sorry. Haven’t seen her.”
“Your mum said you were having breakfast with her,” he protested in a whiny voice.
“Oh, right. I meant, she left before I did, and I have no idea where she was going.”
“Don’t you want to hear my idea for the column?”
Josie absolutely did not, but she also didn’t want to get into a debate. It seemed best to let him talk while she tuned him out. “Sure. Hit me with it.”
“A day in the life of a stud.”
“Sounds good.”
“You really think so?” He looked eager. “How should I pitch it?”
Josie searched her brain for any recall of what he said. Stud. That was the word that stuck out. “Farming. Go with farming.”
Theo placed a meaty hand on Josie’s shoulder, laughing. “Farming. Yeah, yeah, t
hat’s good. I’ll tell Harry that to get it past her. Thanks for the suggestion.” He tipped his hat and marched toward Harry’s street.
Josie didn’t bother shouting after him that Harry would be smart enough to avoid Theo like he was Typhoid Mary. “What’s wrong with the people in this village? Sex, sex, sex, that’s all they care about.” And not one, apparently, believed in love. Not even the woman she was in love with. Josie sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly, doing her best to staunch the threatening tears.
While she stopped those, she couldn’t block out the voice in her head stating, “Said the woman who shagged in the woods.”
It wasn’t just sex, though. Not with Harry. Even the quickie that pretty much came out of nowhere had been special. Too special. To Josie at least.
Why had Harry acted so cold after learning the news? Of course, Harry had gotten married to Alice without having deep feelings, so what did Josie really expect from the reserved woman?
Back at the pub, her mum greeted her with, “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Did Harry say yes?”
“I didn’t ask her to marry me.”
“Very funny. She’s about as loving as a cactus.” Her mum blew a raspberry. “Did she agree to do the show?”
Had her mum been right about Harry from the start? No matter. Josie was leaving for the airport in a matter of hours, and Harry would become a distant memory.
“We need to talk about something else,” Josie said.
Taken aback, her mum said, “Why do you look like you lost your best friend.”
“Not at all,” Josie said as breezily as possible, not able to get over the thought she’d lost her shot at love. Josie had been right to focus on her career all those years, and it was best to throw herself back into it. Coming to the village had been a mistake, and it was time to correct it. “I’m leaving tonight.”
“To go where?”
“Home.”
Josie’s mum didn’t speak.
“I got a job offer.” Josie couldn’t say more to ease the pain on her mum’s face, which didn’t bode well for her reentrance to the speechwriter role.
“And you have to leave so soon?”
“They wanted me to come back before now, but I’ve been stalling. If I don’t leave today, I won’t.” Josie sniffled.
A Shot at Love Page 25
