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The Barefoot Bookshop on the Beach

Page 61

by Rebecca Raisin

‘Well, all you have to do is murder someone and then there will be an investigation that the detectives can’t solve, but a wily group of internet sleuths can.’

‘If only it were that easy. I haven’t heard any more from Tia’s legal team, which is obviously a good thing, but part of me worries they’re taking time to make a case against me. Should I be worried, do you think?’

‘Honestly, I can’t see her taking it further. It’s a small industry and it wouldn’t look good for her if she took it that far. You admitted fault. Apologised. Deactivated your page.’

‘Yeah, I hope that’s enough for her.’

‘How’s it going there with sizzling-hot boss man?’ Lily switches topics like a pro.

I blush, glad this isn’t a video call so she can’t see my face. ‘Just how many romance novels have you devoured?’

‘A lot! Wish I’d started reading them sooner.’

I laugh. ‘I only had a whole review page dedicated to romance novels, Lily. Sheesh.’

‘What can I say, I’m always behind the times. So how is he then?’

‘We just had a meeting about an author event.’

‘So early in the morning? Riiiight. You sound almost breathless whenever I mention his name. What’s that about?’

‘Oh, come on, Poirot. I do not. He’s an early riser who likes to have meetings before breakfast, which is clearly a sign of an overachiever and someone who doesn’t stay up late reading and has a healthy respect for the coming workday.’

‘Opposites attract! Why is your voice all wobbly? Has there been a development I should know about? A kiss per chance?’

‘Per chance? Since when do you speak like that?’

‘Since reading romance!’

I can only smile. ‘There was a kiss not five minutes ago, but it was an accident.’

Her gasp rings out. ‘What! How does an accident like that happen?’

‘Dropped books, the clashing of heads, a lingering gaze or two, and voilà, an accidental kiss.’

‘You sly thing! So how was it?’

‘On a scale of one to ten, an eleven.’

‘Ooh. Tell me everything,’ she says. ‘Who initiated it?’

‘Me.’

‘You?’

‘Yes! And now I wish I hadn’t.’

‘Why?’ It’s like an interrogation. She’s peppering me with questions so fast I can’t answer quick enough before she shoots the next one my way.

‘Well, it’s not like I’m staying here long term, is it? I barely know the guy. I don’t want another Caleb situation where I’m disregarded and ghosted like I’m nothing. Xavier broke off the kiss. I got the sense that he regretted it.’

She clucks her tongue like a mother hen. ‘No! Don’t let Caleb intrude on what could be the makings of something special, Harper.’

‘Xavier is one of those supremely confident types, and really I’m looking for a golden retriever hero this time. Safer, right? I’m wary after Caleb. This job is a temporary measure until I can come crawling back to London, so what’s the point?’

As I say it, my heart squeezes at the thought of leaving the Last Chance Resort. I’ve never really found home, never really found my place; could this be it? How do you know when you’ve found home? Lily’s lucky in a sense; home for her is a moveable feast, literally. It’s wherever the Zhous are, who sweep their adult babies under their wings and surround them with love and lectures, spicy dumplings and eccentricity. For me, I thought I’d found a version of home on Bookstagram, but that connection was so easily severed, and so it’s like I’m floating, in a holding pattern, unsure of where I fit or belong. The Zhous have always welcomed me into the fold but I am not their daughter. I want to find where I fit in the world, where I belong.

‘Why not just roll with it, and if it fizzles out, it fizzles out. Nothing wrong with a fling, is there, if that’s all it turns out to be. You don’t always need to choose a guy with marriage-material shoulders, you know.’