Chapter 32
32
EMBER
“Thank you, Amanda,” I say to the manager of The Oak as she hands me my coffee.
I’ve come to know Amanda well, seeing as I keep coming into this coffee shop every damn day to pick up croissants and coffees in order to bribe the members of Crystal River’s fire brigade.
“What work do you do, Ember?” she asks me, nodding curiously at the laptop precariously held in my spare hand. “I don’t think I’ve asked you yet.”
“I’m a journalist.”
Amanda’s eyes light up.
“A journalist? What are you doing in Crystal River? Surely there’s nothing newsworthy of anything around here, except for the small town gossip?”
“I’m writing about Connor Penmayne,” I reply.
Amanda stifles a laugh.
“The Penmaynes. Of course. They’re the only reason anyone would write a story about this town.”
“You know them?” I ask.
“Of course,” Amanda says. “How can you not? Especially here, in this place...”
“I guess everyone has a story about them in Crystal River.”
Amanda turns back to the coffee machine but then spins back around to face me before I go.
“You know there was a girl who worked here... Josie ,” she says quietly like it’s a secret. “We got on so well. I loved her. She was a damn good barista. You should research her for your article.”
“What about her?”
“Well, she was the one who hooked up with Victor Penmayne.”
Oh.
“The barista?” I ask. “And the bigshot actor?”
“Yeah, her,” Amanda explains. “She worked here at The Oak. I was there when they saw each other for the first time.”
I nod.
“I remember all the press talking about that when it happened. That was here?”
“Yeah, he met her where you’re standing right now.”
I look down at my feet and then smile at the manager.
“Small world, hey?”
“Yes, small world,” Amanda replies, already moving on to the next customer. “Feel free to take a seat anywhere.”
“Will do.”
I choose a spot next to the window so I can look out over the world.
This is where Josie and Victor met. God, what a story that was. A real goddamn fairytale . A friend of mine in the gossip section wrote a big scoop on it, I remember. She got a big bonus for the expose.
I drink my coffee and set up my laptop to start this article.
And...
I stare at my blank screen and...
I do absolutely nothing. I can’t put a single word down on the page.
Why not, Ember?
I’ve done this thing hundreds of times before – writing articles. I like to think of myself as being quite good at them, thank you very much. I never find a mental barrier to writing. It’s the easiest part of the job for me. But today I simply can’t find the words. They ain’t flowing. For some unknown, stupid reason, I simply can’t write about Connor freaking Penmayne.
I sigh, lean back, and close my laptop with resignation.
Yeah, I’ve never had this problem before.
There can be only one explanation...
Him.
Connor Penmayne, why are you taking over my head?