“Blue?”
“I know. But I’m letting it go. She managed to compromise on every other room. We’re having a house warming a week on Sunday; you’re invited.” Zack checked his phone. “So is Keren, so you will need to have your filters on.”
“Did you come all the way here just to invite me to your housewarming?” Scott said, checking the time. It was past midnight. “Shouldn’t you be warming Sorrell’s bed up?”
Zack laughed. “Long shift at Sunrise. We have two new Alzheimer’s patients settling in, or rather not settling in, and one became quite violent. I was needed. Patsy came up to check on him but didn’t have a ride back, so I dropped her off.” Zack’s eyes widened. “Patsy. Why don’t you ask her out? She’s a doctor, so she’ll be able to hold a conversation with that big brain of yours and she’s hot. Don’t tell Ells I said that.”
Scott poured himself a shot of whisky.
“She’s not my type,” he said.
“Scotty, you don’t have a type. Why not Patsy? I bet she’ll be up for a date…”
Scott thought about Oliver being set up with Keren and wondered whether this was some sort of intricate set up. “Stop trying to force coupledom on people. It’s bad enough that Rayah came in before and badgered the new guitarist to go out with the she-devil. I don’t need the same treatment.”
Zack squinted. Scott was pretty sure he needed to get his eyes checked.
“Keren’s going on a date with Oliver?”
“You’ve met him?” Scott said, sipping the whisky. It was too good to neck.
“Yeah, he’s taken over the accounts for Sunrise. And it was Rayah who set them up? That makes sense…”
“Which is weird in itself, because nothing involving Rayah ever makes sense,” Scott said.
Zack nodded. “Usually, but she was on the phone to Ells when I went home to grab a change – don’t ask – and saying something about Keren thinking about leaving Severton because there’s nothing here for her, or something equally dramatic. Ells had her on speaker.”
“What else were they saying about Keren?” The words were out before he’d thought about them. He didn’t care what they were saying about Keren. The only reason he was bothered about her going on a date with Oliver was if she cast some form of chicken voodoo magic on him and prevented him from playing with them. She’d been a shadow over his life since he was nineteen and they only way to get rid of that shadow was for her to move away, because he wasn’t leaving Severton.
Zack shrugged. “No idea. It sounded like alpacas communicating at one point with the odd dog squeal for fun. I swear, if Keren does stay in Severton, those three will end up being the next fucking coven.” He referred to the name given to Veronica Moore, who ran the post office, and her two cronies. They knew everything that went on in the town and some things that weren’t happening yet. Scott tended to avoid them.
“Maybe it’d be good for Keren to move,” he muttered. “There isn’t really anything for her here.”
“Apart from her friends, her business…” Zack said. “Maybe things will work for her with Oliver. He seems a nice enough guy. I know you and Keren don’t get on, but she’s a nice person. And Sorrell would be upset if she left.”
Scott poured another whisky, hoping this one would numb his mouthandhis brain.
3
Keren might’ve bought a new pair of trousers and a fitted top that showed off a hint of cleavage. They might be new and they might’ve been bought specially for tonight, but she wasn’t confessing anything because she’d downplayed the hell out of this date.
As it was, she’d bumped into Oliver the day after Rayah’s interference. He was attractive enough; sandy blonde hair worn a little too long, and cute round glasses that made him look like a geek but in a really Pinterest-worthy way. He’d been apologetic and offered her a pass out, seeming already aware that Rayah was a complete lunatic and that having seen the goods, Keren might not be too enthusiastic for a date.
That wasn’t the case though. He was intelligent, interesting and single. Plus, he actually spoke to her and asked her questions, as opposed to Scott who snarled at her and would tell her the sky was pink if it was blue, just to argue with her. And she had no idea why she was comparing him to Scott Maynard, the man who tried on a regular basis to induce her into verbal warfare.
As was her nature, she was at Sorrell’s hotel restaurant early. It had been open just a month; a bijoux addition to what had become a successful business for her friend and was finding its feet like a ballet dancer. The chef was a friend of Jake Maynard who had needed a change of pace from city restaurants. The menu was fine dining, with a more accessible a la carte menu between the hours of five and seven, which was when she was meeting Oliver.
“You look really good,” Sorrell said, sipping on a martini.
Abby, Scott’s favourite bartender did the Friday evening cocktail hour at the hotel, before hotfooting it down to town to work the nine till two shift. She was a mystery that none of them were yet to solve, something rare for Severton, where secrets were almost unheard of.
“Thank you.” Keren looked down, checking that everything was where it should be. “I feel a bit nervous actually. It’s been ages since I’ve last been on a date.”
“How long?” Sorrell said. “And while you’re working it out, do you want one of these? French Martinis. They’re moreish.”
“One would be a good idea,” Keren said. “It’s been two years.”
Sorrell’s head snapped round like something out of a horror film and Keren wondered if she’d need a chiropractor.
