Page 37 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

‘Yes, please,’ Phoebe says eagerly, climbing up onto the stool next to Nico. ‘With extra sprinkles and fudge sauce.’

‘I am the worst dad in the world,’ Nico mutters. ‘I swear, she’s having a plate of broccoli for her dinner.’

‘Oh, and a pup cup for Taco,’ Phoebe continues. ‘He only tried to eat three socks yesterday.’

‘That is surely worth celebrating.’ Miss Rita grabs a paper cup, which she fills with squirty cream. Taco sticks his entire face into it while his tail wags so hard it almost lifts him off the floor.

‘So, Ophelia.’ Her gaze is sharp as she puts an elaborate sundae together for Phoebe and I take a seat on one of the high stools. ‘That’s an unusual name.’

‘Um, my parents are both actors,’ I say, annoyed with myself for sounding so stiff when she’s being friendly. ‘They’re Shakespeare devotees.’

God, who uses the word devotees? Just relax! Relax! my internal voice screams in a very un-relaxing sort of way. Be normal!

‘Max Jones and Caroline Turner,’ Miss Rita nods while topping the ridiculous concoction with an insane number of rainbow-coloured sprinkles and even I’m starting to worry about Phoebe’s teeth at this point. ‘Big Hollywood stars. And that brother of yours… we’re real fans of his vampire show round here.’

‘Blood/Lust?’ I make an effort to loosen my posture. ‘It’s great, isn’t it?’

‘I like it when they fight with their shirts off,’ she confides, her eyes going a bit dreamy.

‘I mean, I could live without those bits to be honest.’

That big laugh fills the shop again and I feel a strange sense of triumph. I can do this, I can make small talk with strangers.

‘Well, I’m his number one fan, a fully signed up member of the official club,’ Miss Rita beams. I had been previously unaware there was an official fan club for my brother and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it. ‘He’s a good-looking boy that’s for sure, and that fiancée of his… well, I don’t swing that way – apart from a brief but memorable period in the late Seventies – but if I did—’

‘Cynthie is very beautiful,’ I cut her off desperately. ‘They’re really happy together.’

‘Do you see much of them?’ Rita pushes the sundae across the counter towards Phoebe, who descends on it with about as much dignity as Taco.

‘No, not really,’ I shrug, immediately feeling self-conscious again. ‘They’re both pretty busy.’

Nico slides me a look at that, his brows pulled down in a frown, but before he can say anything Miss Rita is already on to the next part of her interrogation.

Thirty minutes and one exceptional scoop of brown butter pecan ice cream later I feel like I’ve been through the most intense job interview of my life. On the plus side, Rita’s seeming obliviousness to how awkward I am, plus Nico’s reassuring presence, somehow makes things easier. I answer all her questions; I even start to relax a bit.

The bell rings over the door and Rita breaks off from her deep dive into my teenage years to grin at the man who walks in.

‘If it isn’t the chief! Get your handsome butt in here and I’ll fix you a milkshake.’

‘No, thanks, Miss Rita,’ he says. ‘I was just passing and thought I’d stop in and say hello to our newest visitor.’

He turns to me and holds out his hand.

‘Luke Thomas, I’m the chief of police here in Roseport.’ He must be in his late thirties, a couple of inches shorter than Nico, but broader in the shoulders. His blond hair is cut short, and his grey eyes are kind as I shake his hand. He’s very good-looking.

‘Lee Turner-Jones,’ I reply. ‘Do all of Roseport’s visitors get a personal greeting from the police chief?’

He laughs. ‘No, ma’am, they don’t, but these are unusual circumstances.’

‘I take it we’re the talk of the town?’ Nico asks him.

Luke winces sympathetically. ‘Yeah, just wanted to give you a heads up that tonight’s town meeting looks like it might be eventful.’

‘Oh god.’ Nico pales. ‘I forgot. I can’t believe I forgot.’

‘Beers are on me later if you need one,’ Luke commiserates.

‘Pretty sure I’ll be taking you up on that.’