Page 9 of Never Date a Celebrity

Piper waved her off. “I couldn’t go without you. It wouldn’t be the same, besides I’d feel bad.” She paused for a few moments. “Why don’t we all go? Surely it won’t break the bank too much if we close for one day. Will it? It won’t even be a whole day, only a few hours in the afternoon. We would be back in time for the evening rush.”

Imogen was sure they had yet to experience an actual rush, but the evenings were a bit busier. Afternoons did bring a few customers though, and they needed them all right now. “I’m afraid it would break the bank at this point.”

“It’s fine. We don’t have to go. It probably won’t be very good anyway. These things are always overhyped,” Niamh said. Except her voice was laced with disappointment and it sounded like she didn’t believe that at all. And Piper looked like someone had eaten her last Pringle, which was a major thing. Piper loved Pringles. Always kept a stock of each colour.

Imogen couldn’t stand to see their sad little faces. “Book two tickets. I’ll hold the fort.” She held up a hand when Niamh went to argue. “I’m sure I can manage by myself for a few hours. Didn’t you say it was on a Wednesday? Wednesdays aren’t even that busy.”

Piper gave Niamh a hopeful look. “That is true. It will basically just be One Pint Willy, the Gossip Girls, and that couple I think are having an affair.”

Niamh considered it for a few seconds. “Are you sure?”

“Well, I’m not sure-sure,” Piper said. “But they always arrive in two separate cars, and one always parks around the back. Then they get all cosy together in that booth over there.” She pointed across the room to the booth with the shabby red fabric that badly needed replaced. “But their eyes dart to the door every time someone comes in and they stop holding hands. Seem guilty to me.”

Niamh regarded her. “That’s great detective work, Pipes. But I meant is Imogen sure about being left here alone.” Niamh turned to Imogen, and they shared a fond smile—Piper regularly veered off topic. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Positive. Go and meet Amanda and Brenda, or whatever their names are.” Imogen did remember their names, but she knew how to exasperate Piper, and she enjoyed messing with her way too much.

“Amelia and Bridget!” Piper duly corrected her. She gave Imogen a look and then her eyes widened. “Oh my God, do you think they’ll be there?”

“If it says there’s a meet-and-greet then they could be.” Niamh grinned. “It’s possible, right?”

“Totally possible. I’m booking the tickets right now. Thanks, Immy. You’re the best.” Piper leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Imogen brushed it off with a shrug. “You’re grand.”

Niamh watched Piper intently as she tapped away on her phone. Imogen was sure that she held her breath until the moment that Piper set the phone on the table.

Piper beamed. “Booked. Twelve o’clock on Wednesday.”

Squealing commenced. Piper and Niamh both hopped off their seats and jumped up and down. They hugged each other, and they hugged Imogen, who could only smile at their antics. There was some more squealing. Imogen was surprised she didn’t burst an eardrum.

“We’re going to meet Amelia Whitlock and Bridget Clemonte,” Piper said when they stopped jumping.

Niamh pointed at her. “Maybe. We don’t know who’ll be there.”

“I know, I know. I’ll not get my hopes up, but we might. Imagine.” Piper clasped her hands over her mouth like she had just thought of something. “What am I going to wear?”

Imogen chuckled. That was her cue to get up. She was happy to get the bar ready and leave her friends to discuss fashion choices and debate which celebrities they might meet.

Imogen smiled as she ran a cloth over the bar top listening to the sound of Niamh and Piper chittering in the corner. Her friends being happy made her happy too. She took her cloth and shined the golden-coloured beer taps. Then she grabbed some spray and cleaned the glass doors of the fridges.

All of a sudden, the door burst open and in walked Edith McKinney. Their landlady who always smelt like mothballs and money. The older woman owned the full row of buildings the Wishing Well was sandwiched right in the middle of.

“No customers, ladies?” Edith asked with a sneer. She was like that. Sneery.

“Not at the moment,” Imogen said. Niamh and Piper had stopped talking and were now flanking her.

“Shame. Such a shame. Well, customers or not, you will pay your rent on time. You hear? You wouldn’t be the first folk I’d have thrown out of this pub for not paying.”

“We will always pay our rent, Ms. McKinney, we assure you,” Niamh said beside Imogen. “Can we get you a drink or anything?”

“No, no,” Edith said, already backing away. “Just looking.”

“I can’t stand that woman,” Piper said the second the door closed behind her.

“Me either,” Imogen said. “She’s more than a little scary.”

“She’s horrible,” Niamh added. “As if we would miss rent. We haven’t missed it yet, have we?”