Page 77 of Barging In

Clem bit her lip. It kind of was, but it was more the culmination of years spent feeling stuck. She wasn’t exactly unhappy with the way things were working withFlorence. A little unsatisfied and anxious about money, yes. But then there was the prospect of working for Victoria. Would it be difficult, being her employee and having feelings for her? Would she be able to focus? Victoria was very distracting. What if she struggled to keep her mind on the job? What if they disagreed, or worse, gave in to something neither was prepared for? That last thought pulled a smile tugged at her lips. She could dream, couldn’t she?

She shook her head, brushing away her unhelpful thoughts. “I’m still thinking about it,” she settled on. “That reminds me: Were you serious about needing somewhere to set up your cider empire?”

“Maybe. Why?”

“I might have found the perfect spot. Look.” Clem pulled out her phone and swiped to a series of photos.

Max took it from her, zooming in and out. “Gosh, Clem. This is perfect. Where is this place?”

She nodded towards the wharf. “Right on your doorstep.”

His eyes widened. “Really?” He passed the phone back, his forehead furrowed. “I’m not exactly in a position to do anything at the moment. Distinct lack of funds, you know.”

“Sounds like you need an investor… or anavidfan?”

“Jasper? I couldn’t. We’ve only been going out a few days.”

“You could draw up a contract to keep that side of things professional. Make him a silent partner.” Clem shrugged again. “It’s worth speaking to him. Or what about your parents? Could they help get you up and running?”

“Maybe,” he mused. “I could sell the boat, but that would mean moving in with them.”

Clem couldn’t believe she had to walk him through this. “Max,” she said slowly, “where have you spent the last few nights?”

His eyes flicked away as he smiled. “Jasper’s.” He played with his lip. “Can you send those photos to me? It does look perfect. I could sell vinyl from there, too. It looks cool and dry, everything selling from a narrowboat is not.”

“And no need for those sunshades! Why don’t you stop overthinking it and just give it a go?” Clem suggested, tossing his previous words straight back at him.

“Touché.”

“It’s not so easy to make potentially life-changing decisions, is it?”

Max rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Well, I’m going to see if anyone around here wants a slice of lemon drizzle.” Clem smiled.

“You’re desperately trying to get into her good books, aren’t you?” Max observed, then slyly added, “Or is it her bed?”

“Still married,” Clem called back as she headed off along the tow path to the bridge.

She wound her way through the wharf to Victoria’s office, knowing she would be in. Overcast days led Victoria to switch on a light, and it had been on all day. Clem had also happened to spot her at her desk every time she looked out the port side of Florence, which was pretty much every five minutes. What else was there to do on a drizzly day but stare out a window at a beautiful woman who made your insides somersault?

Clem tapped lightly on Victoria’s open office door and stuck her head around. “Hello.”

Victoria looked up from a pile of papers. “Clem.”

The beaming smile on her face suggested she was happy to see her, so Clem stepped inside.

“I have a very lonely slice of lemon drizzle looking for a new owner. I don’t suppose?—”

Before Clem could finish her sentence, Victoria was on her feet.

“I’ll look after it,” she said, taking the container and diving straight in.

Clem could barely contain her amusement as she watched Victoria devour the treat in seconds, like a starving dog.

Licking her fingers clean, Victoria passed the container back.

“Hungry, were we?”