Fifteen
Greg was at sixes and sevens, as his uncle would say. Last night, Jemma had been fantastic. Without her, this year’s Indie Bookshops Event would’ve been a bit of a let down for his sales. He would’ve benefitted from the increased numbers of people buying books, no doubt, but he sold more books at yesterday’s event than he’d sold for the entire month of May. And that was thanks to Jemma.
But now he had a problem. He liked her. He really liked her. He had felt things over the last few days he hadn’t felt for years. It had taken all his strength and willpower last night to stop himself from kissing her. Or trying to kiss her. She might’ve pulled way. Although he didn’t think she would have. She seemed to like him too.
But he owned a bookshop in Folkestone and lived in a relatively small cottage in Betancourt Bay. Jemma was loaded now and about to sell her flat and move somewhere else. Did he really think she would move to Betancourt Bay?
And what if she did and things didn’t work out between them? Living next door to someone you have dated … and possiblyfallen in love with, would be Hell on earth if one of you ended things. If she ended things.
Yet they had so much in common, it was unbelievable.
But they had only known one another for a matter of days.
The best thing for him to do was to take things more slowly and see how it went. Best for both of them, in fact. He had charged in like a bull in a China shop, and he was lucky nothing had been broken so far.
He still remembered the searing pain he experienced when Donna dumped him. All the weeks of questioning what he could have done differently. And yet, in the end, he had known it would never work out between them.
He had a good life now. He had friends. He was happy. Did he really want to risk all that for a woman he’d only just met? A woman who was so out of his league that the stars would be closer.
Okay, that was overly dramatic. But she was out of his league. There was no question about that.
Her bank balance alone would dwarf his now. Her future earning potential would make his future income seem pitiful. And then there was the whole fame thing. She said she didn’t like that part of being a hugely successful author, and yet, watching her last night, she looked as if she were in her element. That audience hung on her every word. She had them eating out of her hands. And she positively glowed when she stepped off that dais and went across to him.
He spent his Saturday nights reading, and listening to rubbish TV. She probably went to theatres, and parties, and TV studios, and did interviews, and gave talks and wowed audiences all over the UK and no doubt beyond, if her life was anything like Laurence’s.
Although Laurence seemed happy enough living in Betancourt Bay. He had wanted to live here. He’d been thrilled when Greghad informed him that Seaview Cottage was no longer being rented out and was going up for sale. There was keen interest as there was for any property for sale in the village, but Laurence had outbid everyone, and had moved in within a matter of weeks. That was eight years ago.
Jemma had said that she didn’t want people to know she was here because of her recent experiences with fans turning up at her home. Yet Laurence didn’t have any trouble on that score and he was as famous as Jemma.
Greg didn’t know what he should do. He’d try to slow things down but he couldn’t avoid Jemma entirely. He didn’t want to do that. Even if it did mean he was risking a broken heart for a second time. And he had a feeling that this time, the pain might be far worse.
