Page 44 of A Witch in Notting Hill

“I only got a glimpse. Shouldn’t have even been looking in the first place,” I confessed. “Tall, much taller than Willow—”

“Everyone’s taller than Willow.”

“Light brown hair, kind of messy. On purpose. Like he’s trying too hard to look younger than he is.”

“Holy shit,” she said, grabbing my arm. Again, I kept walking. “Was it Kit Hayes?”

“I don’t know what Kit Hayes looks like.”

“God, Oliver, at least pretend you’ve seen a rom-com.”

“Why would I pretend I’ve seen a rom-com?”

“Focus,” she said. Little did she know, now that we were on the topic of Willow’s dating life, it was impossible for me to think about anything else. Even though I knew I should have been thinking about literallyeverythingelse. “Did he have kind eyes?”

“Did he what?”

“Don’t be difficult.”

“Of the two of us in this conversation, I wouldn’t say I’m the one being difficult.”

“I heard a rumor she and Kit were supposed to do a film together. I bet it was him. In which case, this is worse than I thought.”

“Grand,” I said, kicking a rock harder than necessary into the river. “Care to fill me in?”

“One of those guys who looks like a golden boy but is actually a dick,” she said. “You know the type.”

“Everyone in Hollywood seems to be the type,” I said, hating what the thought of someone being a dick to Willow was doing to my body. My irritation was visceral, rising in my chest like hot lava. Or maybe it was acid reflux. Likely one and the same, if I was honest. “What do we even know about him, anyway?” I was desperately hoping whatever preconceived notions Lola hadwere only hearsay, headlines from shitty tabloids or gossip from her coworkers.

“We know he was rude to a server at a restaurant in Mayfair last year,” she said. “And that he supposedly fired his valet in front of an entire red carpet.”

“How do weknowthose things?”

“Same way we know anything about celebrities,” she said. “TikTok? I don’t know. The point is, he’s a wanker. And if even you aren’t going to be with her, we still don’t wanthimwith her.”

“Slow down,” I said, finally stopping mid-stride. “First of all, it isn’t up to us who she dates. She’s a grown woman with agency and all the trappings of the twenty-first century—”

“Bugger off—”

“—and second of all, we don’tactuallyknow anything about this bloke. Maybe he isn’t as bad as everyone says.” I was trying to convince myself more than Lola, but fortunately, she didn’t notice. “And third—”

“There’s a third?”

“We hardly know Willow that well, either. Maybe they have a history.”

“They don’t.”

“Lola.”

“Are you done?”

“No,” I said. “Last but most certainly not least, I don’t want to be with her. We need to get that idea off the table before we start this whole thing in earnest, because I cannot have you watching my every move and wiggling your eyebrows for the next five months. And the whole point of me going along with this thing, aside from my connections in the city, is to make Willow comfortable. What good would I be if I was chatting her up? Especially while she’s seeing someone? Get it out of your head, Lo. I mean it.”

“You first.”

I grabbed her shoulders and shook her in the direction of the river, letting go only when she screamed.

“You bastard.” She laughed, smacking me on the arm. “Why d’you have to take everything so seriously?”