Page 12 of For My Finale

B lossom sat in the warm, bustling pub, nursing a half pint of cider that she hadn’t actually taken a sip from in the last twenty minutes.

Instead, her attention was firmly on Lilah, who was behind the bar.

She was pouring drinks with the practiced ease of someone who had done it a thousand times before, even though Blossom knew for a fact that Lilah had never in her life been behind a bar.

And yet, somehow, she was good at this. Infuriatingly good.

“Oh, come on, Roger, you can’t tell me that you’re still drinking that weak excuse for a beer,” Lilah was saying, wrinkling her nose as she placed a pint of golden ale in front of the gruff, elderly man sitting at the bar.

“Try the stout, live a little. You don’t want anyone to accuse you of being boring, do you? ”

Roger, who had certainly been ordering the same beer in the same pub from the same bar stool since before either Lilah or Blossom were born, narrowed his eyes at her. “I like what I like, missy. Ain’t about to change just because you told me so.”

“Suit yourself,” said Lilah, pretending to be disappointed. “But when you’re ready to live an exciting life, you just let me know and I’ll pour you a real pint.”

Blossom stifled a laugh. Roger was glancing at his drink dubiously, but the corners of his mouth were twitching and she could see that Lilah was really getting to him. Not that stout was the more manly drink, but it didn’t hurt that it cost a pound more and Lilah was a genius at the up-sell.

But Lilah had already moved on, her charm offensive changing targets as she walked to the other side of the bar.

“And what’s your name?” she asked, leaning on the counter and wiggling her eyebrows at a woman in her late sixties who was wearing what could kindly be described as an interesting hat.

“Well, you can call me Mabel, my dear.”

“Mabel, I have to say, that is an absolutely extraordinary hat. I’m feeling positively underdressed in comparison,” Lilah said. “What’ll it be for you?”

“I’ll have a G and T,” Mabel said, adjusting the enormous arrangement of purple feathers that was sitting on top of her head. “This is my special occasion hat.”

“And what’s the occasion?” asked Lilah.

“It’s Thursday,” Mabel said, solemnly.

Lilah threw back her head and laughed. “Excellent answer. We should all be as optimistic as you. Now how about we make that G and T a double, eh?”

Blossom shook her head. After the museum debacle, she’d been expecting Lilah to be an absolute nightmare at something like this.

She was supposed to be sulking or throwing tantrums, not smoothly endearing herself to half the town like some kind of social chameleon.

Blossom had been more than prepared to witness a train wreck and clean up the mess. Instead, she was seeing Lilah fit in.

“You’re staring,” Ives said, dropping into the seat next to her.

Blossom started. “I am not.”

“Yes, you are,” said Ives. She raised an eyebrow. “About that teenage crush…”

“Ives…”

Ives sighed. “She’s attractive, I’m not denying that, Bloss. I’m just saying that, well…”

“Well what? She’s out of my league or she’s not into women or what?” Blossom asked, uncharacteristically a little irritated .

“God no,” Ives said, looking shocked. “So not out of your league. Jesus, Bloss, if you hadn’t been my best friend since we were six, I’d be marrying you myself, you’re such a catch.”

“You’re only dating men right now,” Blossom reminded her, slightly mollified.

“She’s just not likely to stick around long, is all,” said Ives. “I don’t want you all broken-hearted.” She sighed. “Speaking of which, we really need to talk about the cafe.”

Immediately, Blossom’s stomach twisted itself into a knot. She dropped her gaze to the untouched drink in front of her. “It’s fine.”

“Blossom.”

She swallowed and forced herself to look up. “It’s fine,” she said again.

“Are you sure?” Ives asked, her voice softer now. She tucked her dark hair behind one ear. Her tattoos were on full show tonight since she was out of teacher mode. “Because if you need help, I’m here. You just have to say the word.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Blossom said, smiling again. The lie slipped out so smoothly that she could almost believe it herself. Almost.

Ives shrugged. “Alrighty, if you say so.”

Blossom swallowed hard, guilt tightening in her chest. She didn’t want to lie to Ives. But admitting the truth would feel even worse. If she said the words out loud, if she admitted how bad things really were, well, it would make it all real. And she wasn’t ready for that.

Not yet.

Before Ives could press the issue any further, Daisy bounced up, her face alight with excitement. “Blossom, a new date! I’ve found the perfect person for you!”

Blossom groaned, grateful for the distraction, but also exasperated beyond belief. “Daze, you’re relentless.”

“I think Bloss might be off the dating market for the next little while,” Ives said, glancing over at Lilah. Fortunately, Daisy didn’t notice the look .

“Eugh, really? But this really is the perfect match. They’re tall, dark, and handsome or beautiful, I don’t know which they prefer. And they’re successful and even own their own home,” Daisy said.

“They?” said Ives. “Huh. That could be the answer to everything. Tell me more.”

Blossom watched as Ives let Daisy drag her into yet another blind date, then turned her attention back to Lilah.

Lilah, who was now a lot closer than she’d been before. In fact, she was leaning on the counter right by Blossom’s side, making Blossom jump.

“So?” Lilah said, preening. “How am I doing?”

???

Lilah leaned on her elbows, face closer than she’d really intended to Blossom’s.

It was only up this close that she realized that what she’d thought were tan marks was actually a smattering of freckles.

And that Blossom’s eyes weren’t brown, they were hazel with tiny flecks of gold and brown in them.

“I have to admit,” Blossom said. “You’re good at this. People like you.”

Lilah smirked, pulling back a little. “Tell me something I don’t know. I was America’s sweetheart for a while there, remember?”

“No, I mean it,” said Blossom. “After that whole museum thing, I thought a public-facing job wasn’t really for you. But this is different, you’re great at this.”

Lilah felt a weight on her shoulders. She shook her head. “No.”

“No?” Blossom gave her a questioning look.

“I mean, yes, obviously, I’m good at this. But this isn’t it. It’s not the thing, not the meaning."

“What do you mean?” Blossom asked.

Lilah shrugged. “Well, it’s just another performance, isn’t it? A role. Just like always. Smile, say the right things, make people like me. There’s no meaning in it. ”

“Meaning? People need drinks, Lilah. They come in here thirsty, you save them. You’re practically a hero.”

Lilah rolled her eyes, but despite herself a laugh bubbled up. “Oh, sure. Let’s make a statue in my honor. Saint Lilah, Savior of the Thirsty.”

Blossom grinned. “See? There’s meaning. You just have to look hard enough.”

Lilah laughed again and Blossom laughed with her and for a second there, there was…

something. A connection, an understanding, a quiet warmth, a comfort that Lilah couldn’t quite put a name on.

It made her feel lighter. And she realized that Blossom had never treated her as anything other than a normal person.

It was odd. Lilah couldn’t remember anyone treating her that way for a very long time.

“Okay,” Blossom said, leaning up against the bar. “If this isn’t for you, then what’s next?”

Lilah perked up. “The animal thing. You asked me if I liked animals, remember?”

“I did,” Blossom said slowly.

“And I do. Of course I do,” said Lilah. She was thinking about her pet Chihuahua.

Pierre, she’d named him. He’d been her shadow, her protector, the receptacle of all her love.

She’d adored him and he had adored her. It had been, quite literally, the worst day of her life when she’d had to let him go.

“Animals love me too,” she said. “I’ve got a magic touch. ”

“Mmm-kay,” Blossom said. She looked like she wasn’t convinced. “Well, I’ve been making some calls and—”

Lilah’s phone rang, cutting Blossom off mid-sentence. With a sigh, she pulled it from her pocket and stared at the screen. Margot. The problem with Margot was that if she didn’t pick up the call, she’d get a hundred more until she did pick up. She might as well get this over with.

“Yes,” she said wearily as she answered.

“Darling.” Margot’s voice oozed through the line like honey. “You are missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. Opportunity. Of. A. Life. Time. Big studio, huge budget, A-list cast, a script that’s actual readable, and, wait for it, franchise potential.”

Lilah’s grip tightened around her phone. For a split second, just a flicker of a moment, she felt it. The old pull, the old rush. Then, just as quickly, she remembered all the rest of it, everything that would come with saying yes, and she shut it down.

“No.”

Margot sighed dramatically. “Darling.”

“Don’t darling me, I said no. You know I’m going to say no, so why do you keep offering?”

“Because I’m your agent, it’s my job.”

“Have I not fired you?”

“You can’t. I own ten percent of you, darling. Besides, if you fire me, you’ll just have to deal with all the offers personally, and I’m sure you don’t want to do that. Think about it?”

“No,” Lilah said. Then, in a fit of pique, she hung up the phone.

She exhaled sharply, pushing the phone back into her pocket. When she looked up, Blossom was watching her.

“You okay?”

“About as okay as you are about your cafe,” Lilah said. She’d overheard Blossom’s conversation with Ives, and it was obvious to her that Blossom was lying. Lilah Paxton had made a career out of lying, she’d recognize it anywhere.

Blossom’s expression flickered, just for a second. “Alrighty then, glad we’re both absolutely fine. And duty calls.” She nodded over to the other side of the bar, where a customer was waiting.

Lilah painted a smile on and turned away. But as she poured the customer’s beer, she felt Blossom’s eyes on her. And she had the strangest feeling that she wasn’t quite as alone as she used to be.