Page 119 of Me and Mr. Darcy

To which Rose and Hilary laughed heartily, and Hilary cried, ‘Oh, I do love the New Yorkers’ sense of humour,’ while Rose added, ‘No, you silly girl. Don’t you know the first thing about business? You don’t pay for anything yourself. You get someone else to pay for it.’ I must have looked confused because she went on to explain, ‘Investors, darling! What you need are investors!’

Which is like telling someone who’s run out of gas, that they need to put petrol in the car.

‘Great, but where exactly do I find some of these investors?’ I asked.

And – now this is the best bit – Rose replied, as if it was obvious, ‘Why, you’re looking right at her!’

‘Would you care for a fresh pot of tea?’

I hear a voice in my ear and look up to see our young Italian waiter hovering over us with the kind of attentiveness that makes women of a certain age giggle and swoon.

Hilary wafts him away with a flick of her ballpoint pen. ‘No, thank you,’ she instructs. Having attempted to flirt with him earlier and discovered he was engaged, she promptly branded him a tease. ‘Just the bill, please.’

Hilary is here in her capacity as a lawyer. She might have retired from partnership at a top London law firm, but she’s still got her licence to practise law, and she’s going to draw up the legal papers.

Oh, didn’t I mention it? Silly me, I’m so excited about everything I can barely think straight. So, OK, I’m going to do a Rose and just come out and say it . . .

I. Emily Albright. Am the new owner of McKenzie’s.

Yup. Really! Can you believe it?

No, neither can I, but it’s for real. After talking to Rose and Hilary and discovering that, no, this wasn’t a practical joke, and, yes, Rose was totally serious, I called up Mr McKenzie late last night and, with trembling hands and a voice that was such a high-pitched squeak I sounded like I was mainlining helium, we talked about me buying the bookstore and agreed on a price for the lease and all the stock. He was delighted. ‘Now I know it will be in good hands,’ was how he put it, and I was so over the moon I can’t remember what I said apart from a few hundred breathless thank-yous and a lot about it being a dream come true.

Rose, obviously, is my investor. We’re going into business together. Day to day, nothing much will change. I’ll continue running the store, with a few extra responsibilities, of course, and Rose will be my silent partner.

‘Isn’t this just marvellous!’

Rattling her diamonds as if they’re castanets, Rose leans back in her chair and claps her hands with joy. ‘I’m so thrilled to be getting my teeth into something new. Makes a change from men, hey?’

OK, I admit, perhaps not so silent.

We say our goodbyes on the pavement (not sidewalk – see, just as I’m about to fly back to New York I’m finally getting into the lingo) outside the Savoy.

‘I’ll be drawing up the papers first thing and I’ll have them Fedexed to you next week,’ Hilary is saying, giving me a firm handshake.

‘Great, thanks.’ I smile, pumping vigorously. ‘Thanks for everything.’

‘My pleasure.’ She nods.

‘Well, no need for us to be saying goodbye, is there?’ chimes in Rose, bustling up to me in full-length fur and a matching muff.

I turn to her. I’m feeling a bit light-headed and I can feel my eyes prickling.

‘No, I guess not,’ I sniff, ‘partner,’ I add, attempting a Texan accent.

Rose cackles delightedly and plants two lipstick kisses on my cheeks. ‘So when’s your flight back to the Big Apple? Ce soir?’

I smile. ‘Yeah, I thought I’d do some sightseeing.’

‘Oh, to be an American girl in London for the first time . . .’ Rose closes her eyes as if to swoon. ‘I remember my first trip to Paris in my youth. Strange cities are always ripe for adventures.’ She opens one eye and raises an eyebrow.

‘Um . . . well, I think I’ve had plenty of those.’ I laugh nervously.

Rose gives me a look that says she doesn’t believe a word of it. ‘Well, cheerio, darling,’ she says briskly. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

‘I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough.’

‘Nonsense. I should be the one thanking you, Emily.’