Chapter Five
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Imogen paced back and forth behind the bar, aggressively breathing in and out.
“You’re going to be fine,” Niamh reassured her for about the twenty-seventh time that morning. “How long is it until you meet her?”
Imogen checked her phone. “Twenty minutes.” She closed her eyes and covered them with her hands. “Oh, God.”
“Jesus, I’ve never seen her this nervous before,” Piper stage-whispered to Niamh.
“I’m not sure if I’ve ever been this nervous before.” Thankfully, the bar was empty—Piper and Niamh hardly counted as witnesses. “Why do I feel like this? I’ve dated before.”
“Like a decade ago,” Piper reminded her.
Imogen glared at her. “It has not been that long.” She froze to calculate how long it had been. Over four years. So, a while. “Half a decade, not even,” she shot back before continuing her pace.
“I still don’t know why you didn’t arrange to meet her here.
” Piper took a seat on one of the barstools opposite her.
“We could have made all of this so much easier for you. Scoped her out. Found out her intentions. Asked her all the tough questions that we all really want to know the answers to. You included.”
Imogen pointed a finger at her. “That right there is precisely why I’m not meeting her here. You pair would grill her and scare her off before we could even make it out the door.”
Piper turned her nose up. “You have a terrible opinion of us, your lovely best friends.” She paused. “But will you at least remember to find out if she’s friends with Bridget Clemonte or Amelia Whitlock? Please?”
Imogen rolled her eyes. “I already told you, if it comes up, I’ll ask. But I’m not going to fangirl on your behalf.” And if she did then she sincerely hoped that Amy’s answer was no. Fingers crossed she kept more low-profile company.
Niamh pointed over to one of the windows. “The weather’s nice, so that’s good, isn’t it? Look, even the sun’s made an appearance.”
“Thank God for that. I think a storm might have really pushed her over the edge,” Piper muttered.
Imogen grabbed a cardboard coaster and threw it at her. “Not. Helpful.”
“Hey!” Piper threw it straight back, but Imogen caught it and held it up with a smirk.
“Are you at least going to tell us where you’re taking her?” Niamh asked, ignoring their childish behaviour.
“Nope.” Because the route that she had planned could be considered somewhat romantic, and Imogen knew that one of them would make some sort of smart comment about it and she would end up second-guessing herself. “I’ll tell you after.”
Imogen just hoped that Amy would be suitably dressed for the occasion.
Amy had mentioned wanting to explore some more when they arranged the date—or hang out, or whatever this was—and Imogen had absolutely run with it.
There was going to be a lot of walking involved, including climbing over and around some cliffs.
It wasn’t the easiest route, but Imogen knew that the higher you went, the better the views got—and this particular vantage point took in the vast Atlantic on one side, and miles of sprawling landscape on the other.
Both would look incredible if the sun stayed out.
If Imogen remembered correctly, there were a few worse-for-wear picnic tables near the top too, so she’d planned for that and packed a few bits in her rucksack that they could snack on when they got there.
“You look like Lara Croft, when she’s stuck adventuring in colder climates,” Piper said while openly appraising her. “And I mean that as a very huge compliment. Because, hello? Hot.”
Imogen flushed at the compliment. “Thanks, Pipes.” She was dressed practically for the day, but she had chosen all her best gear.
Items that she felt confident in. Her black hiking trousers that she knew hugged her nicely in all the right places.
A tight, grey mid-layer top that she had zipped up to just below her collarbone.
Her newest hiking boots that she tried to keep good—not the worn, scruffy ones that she wore for most of her walks.
She also had a black, lightweight, padded coat stashed in her backpack in case she needed it too.
Although her hair was tied back in its usual ponytail, she had put it up and down four times to make sure it was sitting perfectly.
Not too high, not too low, with a few bits left loose around her face.
She might have used a touch more makeup than usual too—an extra smidge of eyeliner to frame her eyes.
“Are you going to kiss her?” Piper asked without warning.
“Oh my God. How is that even something you plan for? My only priority is to show her around like she asked me to.”
“I always plan for kissing.” Piper cradled her chin in her hand. “I live for kissing.” She sat up straighter. “Oh! Have you got a cheat sheet of questions you can ask in case there’s any of those lingering, awkward silences? I usually put one in my notes app.”
Imogen hadn’t thought of that. “No. But now I wish I had.”
Niamh glared at Piper. “Stop. I’m sure there won’t be any awkward silences, Im. Just be yourself and it will go great. You’ve got this.”
Had she? She leaned down and grabbed her backpack and slipped it onto her shoulders.
“I’m leaving before you freak me out anymore.
Especially you.” She pointed at Piper but flashed her a smile at the same time because Piper was Piper and Imogen wouldn’t want her any other way.
“Besides, I want to be the first one there. I hate that whole awkward approach when someone is waiting.”
“Oh, me too. By far the worst part of a first date. Avoid it at all costs.” Niamh stepped forward and hugged her. “Text us if you need us. And enjoy yourself.”
Piper hopped off her stool and hugged her too. “Savour every detail because you know I’ll want them all the second you get back. And seriously, it should be her that’s the nervous one, going out with one of the three best people in the world.”
Imogen laughed softly. “I’ll try to harness some of that confidence.”
With a final, grounding breath, she turned and headed out of the Wishing Well. Maybe she should have stopped to wish for a successful date on her way past the well. If it even was a date. She kept walking. No point in wishing when she didn’t know that part.
Either way, she was about to find out.
Imogen headed down Ballyluck’s main street.
She waved in greeting to Sally in Fresh Picks and Mel in Lucky Locks as she passed by, but she kept moving because they were both chatterboxes and would keep Imogen talking forever if she stopped.
She also managed to get past Jonathan and Rory from the B&B with just a hollered hello and a wave too—thankfully, they were walking along the other side of the road engrossed in conversation, or they definitely would have stopped her for a chat.
This, apparently, was small village life.
Running into familiar faces all the time.
Stopping for random chitchat wherever you went.
And holy hell, people really loved to know each other’s business.
Imogen, Piper, and Niamh all got their ears filled with gossip most days in the Wishing Well without even asking.
Mere months in, they already knew deeply personal things about half the village.
It came with the job, apparently. Bartender, therapist, confidante, agony aunt—it was an all-in-one role.
Imogen reached the roundabout and followed the road ahead.
The Ballyluck sign was just around the next corner.
Luckily, she was far enough out of sight of the Wishing Well by that point because she had no doubt that Piper and Niamh were likely glued to the window trying to catch a glimpse of anything they could.
Not that she blamed them. Imogen would be doing the same thing if it was one of them going on a date—which they did more often than her.
Niamh dated occasionally, but it wasn’t her focus, while it was probably Piper’s number one hobby.
Imogen checked the time—ten fifty. She was still early.
And once she rounded the corner, she realised that she wasn’t the only one.
Okay, what was that fluttery thing that her heart just did?
It couldn’t be normal for it to beat like that, surely.
And she had stopped walking too—she couldn’t help it.
The sight of Amy casually leaning against the Ballyluck sign waiting for her was one of the best things Imogen had ever seen, and it totally stopped her in her tracks.
God, when was the last time Imogen had met a woman who took her breath away?
Longer than she could remember, that was for sure.
Even with her last relationship, developing feelings had been a process rather than an instantaneous thing.
Amy must have been on the lookout because she spotted Imogen immediately, and her face broke out into a massive smile that made Imogen’s heart pound even harder.
She pushed herself off the sign and began walking toward Imogen, so in turn, Imogen forced her feet to move forward too.
At least they had both got stuck with the awkward approach, which somehow made it feel less awkward.