Chapter Three #2
Amy gently squeezed her arm. Probably for reassurance, but it made Imogen’s heart rate pick up, nonetheless.
God, it had been a while since Imogen had been touched, even with such an innocent gesture.
She had almost forgotten what it was like to crave that kind of contact from someone.
“Give it some time,” Amy said, letting her hand linger.
“Didn’t you say that you’re still in rookie territory right now?
You’ll find a way to make this place the hottest spot in Ireland in no time. I know it.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
“Absolutely. And then I’ll come back in a year, and you can tell me how right I was. I love hearing about things I’m right about.”
“A year? That’s how long you’re giving me to go from this…” Imogen gestured around the almost empty room. “To a thriving, successful business?”
“Never say never,” Amy said, giving her arm another squeeze before she leaned back. “It’s a motto I try to live by.”
“It sounds like a good one.” Though Imogen had a whole argument in her head about why it wasn’t possible in the span of a year, but she kept it in there.
Maybe it would do Imogen good to take a leaf out of Amy’s book of optimism instead of dwelling on the can’ts or won’ts.
They had overcome so many obstacles already, maybe it was possible.
“Alright. A year, and then we’ll see if you’re right or not.
” She doubted that Amy would seriously be back in a year, but the idea was nice.
In actual fact, once Amy walked out of the Wishing Well today, Imogen would likely never see her again.
This would be it. A charming meeting between two women that would simply go down as a surprisingly memorable workday that Imogen would think back on from time to time.
Because that was real life, and Imogen was nothing if not a realist.
“You don’t believe that I’ll come back,” Amy said matter-of-factly, and Imogen wondered if she’d thought all of that out loud.
“I’d say it’s highly unlikely,” she admitted.
“I thought you’d say that. Which is why I might have a better idea.”
Was Imogen really so transparent? Amy had known her for all of twenty minutes and she had somehow managed to read her mind already. “I’d love to hear it.”
Amy rolled her lips in and regarded her, like she was choosing her words carefully. She leaned forward. “To be honest with you, Imogen, I don’t really say things I don’t mean. So, if I was to leave this bar right now, I would make it my mission to return in a year. However…” Another pause.
Imogen wondered if Amy could hear her heart pounding while she waited to hear what she had to say. Hopefully, Ed Sheeran singing about a Galway girl in the background had managed to drown it out.
“However?” Imogen repeated.
Amy looked pleased about her impatience. Imogen had shown her cards there. “However, a year seems like such a long time away, and I don’t want to wait a year until I see you again.”
“You don’t?”
“No. So, I have a proposition for you, if you’re interested.”
Imogen had to swallow to find her voice again.
Of course she was interested, but she was also sceptical, not to mention terrified because Imogen didn’t do this kind of thing.
Not the flirting. Not the blushing. Not the swooning at every little look and touch.
Yet here she was. Knee-deep in, whatever the hell this was. “What kind of a proposition?”
Amy smiled at her. “I can already tell you’re worrying. And again, like with the Guinness, it’s needless, I promise. I was just going to suggest that we spend some more time together this weekend. That’s all.”
“Time together. You mean like…um—” Was Amy asking her on a date? Did Imogen want her to?
“I mean time together with zero pressure. I’d love to see more of your beautiful country. If you’d like to show me, I’d love that. I could join you on one of those hikes you mentioned before. And if we’re both hungry then maybe we could grab dinner after. That’s all.”
“So, like a tour guide?” Imogen didn’t know why she was making this so awkward, but she couldn’t quite believe that Amy wanted to see her again.
And what was more shocking was that Imogen was considering it.
Which she shouldn’t be, right? Imogen didn’t date—or randomly hang out with extremely attractive women she didn’t know.
Not these days. Plus, Amy was from a whole other country.
She would only be around until her job ended—her mysterious job in the world that Imogen despised.
So, it wouldn’t be a good idea for Imogen to get in any way attached.
Yet, she felt powerless to say no. Because the simple fact of the matter was that Imogen did want to see Amy again. In any capacity.
“More like a friend who I’m very interested in getting to know better while looking at pretty places. How about we go from there? See where it goes?” Amy suggested.
“Oh, we’re friends already?”
“Duh. I even know your favourite colour.”
Amy had Imogen there. “But I still don’t know anything about you.”
“You will if you agree to come out with me this weekend.” Amy pulled the cutest and most hopeful face Imogen had ever seen. She could even give Piper a run for her money, and Piper was good. “Please?”
How could Imogen say no to that? No wasn’t even an option. “Okay.” She nodded. “This weekend. Sure.”
The beaming smile on Amy’s face was totally worth the panic already beginning to build up in Imogen’s chest. “Amazing. I’ll meet you here? Say, eleven a.m. Saturday?”
Imogen got a mental picture of exactly how Piper and Niamh would react if Imogen were to meet a woman in the pub.
They would be like a pair of overly enthusiastic puppy dogs who would undoubtedly embarrass Imogen in some major way.
Either that or they would interrogate the poor woman before Imogen had the chance to smuggle her out the door.
“How about at the Ballyluck sign at the main entrance to town? Same day, same time.”
If Amy wondered why Imogen didn’t want to meet at the pub, she didn’t say anything.
“I’ll be there.” She drained the last of her drink and gave Imogen a regretful look.
“I have to head back now.” She slid off her stool but continued to hover by the bar.
“Um. There’s something that I should probably tell you before I go. ”
That sounded ominous. “Yeah? Shoot.”
“Yeah.” Amy blew out a breath. “It’s just, um…
it’s really no big deal or anything.” She turned and glanced back at the door and then her eyes darted down to the counter.
Then to her fidgeting hands. Everywhere but at Imogen really.
She frowned like she was having some kind of internal debate and Imogen really began to worry about what was coming next.
Then Amy did finally look at her and her frown softened.
“I was just going to tell you that I can’t wait to see you again. ”
Imogen let out a sigh of relief. “Wow. You scared me for a minute there.”
Amy smiled. “Sorry. I didn’t want to come on too strong and scare you off. But I’m really looking forward to it.”
Imogen tilted her head. “Can you scare friends off?”
Amy chuckled. “You just never know. See you Saturday, Imogen.” With that she turned and strode toward the door. She called back over her shoulder, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about my earlier question. I still want to find out about how rigid you are about that non-existent love life of yours.”
“Why’s that?” Imogen shot back.
“Let’s call it curiosity. For now.” With a final wave, Amy disappeared out the door, leaving Imogen staring after her long after she’d gone.
What on earth just happened?
“Bridget Clemonte touched my shoulder!” Piper bounded toward the bar tapping on the shoulder she was referencing. “Right here. Her flawless, manicured, famous as hell hand touched this very spot as she smiled and told me how good it was to meet me, Immy. Bridget fucking Clemonte.”
“Is that her full title?”
“It bloody well should be.” Piper pushed through the wooden swing door that led behind the bar and leaned against the counter beside her. “I’m going to wear this top every day. It’s never getting washed.”
“A tad unhygienic, but okay.”
Niamh chuckled as she rounded the bar at a much more normal pace to join them. “She was amazing to be fair. I’ve read stories that she’s one of those demanding, fit-throwing, diva-type actresses, but she seemed really nice.”
“Yeah, well, don’t believe everything you read. Or see online.” Imogen would know. “Was it everything you both dreamed of then?”
“And more,” Piper said wistfully. “It was amazing.” She held up her phone. “Do you want to see the photos?”
“Of course I do,” Imogen said, knowing full well that Piper would be dying to show her.
She wasn’t a total killjoy. If her friends were excited about something, then she was excited for them.
And that meant that Imogen would happily sit through the two hundred snaps that Piper had undoubtedly taken.
“Yay. Strap yourself in, because there’s a few,” Piper said, grabbing onto Imogen’s arm to drag her in closer.
Sometimes Imogen envied Piper’s enthusiasm for just about everything in life.
Piper was one of those perpetually happy humans who found the good in everything.
Fun was her first language—sass was probably her second.
Could positivity be contagious? Because maybe Imogen needed to channel some of that positive energy and stop worrying so much all the time.
She had made a real habit out of that lately, the worrying.
Especially about things that had the potential to be great, even if they pushed her way out of her comfort zone.
Just look at the Wishing Well. Imogen had been adamantly against it, yet now the thought of being stuck in Belfast still slogging away at Clover was inconceivable.
Could opening herself up to dating again be the next plunge?