Page 25 of For My Finale

L ilah woke up to the warm weight of Blossom draped over her, the soft rise and fall of her breathing tickling Lilah’s collarbone. And for a moment, she simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the events of last night wash over her.

It had been perfect. More than perfect.

And as Blossom began to stir, looking up and smiling sleepily at her, Lilah was filled with warmth. She reached out and tucked a piece of Blossom’s hair behind her ear.

“Morning,” Blossom murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” said Lilah. She grinned. “So, do I sneak out of the window now, or…”

Blossom snorted and smacked her arm gently. “Hardly, we’re both adults here.” Then she pulled a face as she saw the time. “I do need to get to work, though.” She stretched and yawned, turning to face Lilah fully. “And what about you? Any grand plans for the day? Trying out a new job today?”

Lilah closed one eye, pretending to contemplate. “Oh, you know, the usual. World domination. Solving the mysteries of the universe. Maybe a bit of grocery shopping.”

“Uh-huh,” said Blossom, propping herself up on one elbow, a smile teasing at her lips. “Sounds productive. What are you really up to?”

“Mind your business,” Lilah said with a grin. “I’ve got things to do.”

Blossom rolled her eyes and kissed her quickly before swinging her legs out of bed. “Fine, be mysterious, I’ll just pester you about it later instead.”

Lilah watched her move around the room, pulling on clothes, brushing her hair, making herself presentable. It was such an easy, unthinking routine, so natural, so… domestic. Lilah liked it. And that terrified her. Just a touch.

Shoving the thought away, she got up and grabbed her own clothes. “I’m heading back next door to shower and change. See you later?”

“Count on it,” Blossom said, turning and kissing Lilah fleetingly on the cheek.

Lilah slipped out of Blossom’s cottage and walked the short distance to her own. The second she shut the door behind her, her phone began to ring.

She groaned. “Oh, for…” She snatched it up. “What?”

“Hold everything!” Margot said, breathless with excitement. “I have the offer of a lifetime.”

“No.” Lilah hung up immediately.

The phone rang again. Lilah glared at it, willing it to combust. It just kept ringing. She let it go to voicemail, then, just for good measure, she turned the damn thing off. Margot would just have to get used to it. Lilah Paxton was no longer interested. She had other things to do.

LILAH SAT AT a corner table in the pub, leaning forward with her elbows on the worn wooden surface.

Around her, the others listened intently.

Arty was nursing a half-pint, Daisy had her legs crossed with one foot bouncing, George looked like he’d rather be watching sheep, Mrs. Wilkins looked like she’d rather be doing literally anything else, and Ives looked like she’d shelved thoughts of murder but assault might still be on the cards .

“Alright,” Lilah began, glancing around at all of them. “I’m not going to screw around here. The bottom line is that Blossom’s cafe is in trouble.”

“I thought she was doing fine,” Arty said.

“She was,” Ives broke in. “But this damn Coffee-To-Go chain opening is going to eat into her business. Probably into yours too, Arty, since they do lunches.”

“Coffee-To-Go is going to force Blossom under,” Lilah said. “If she’s going to survive, then we need to do something to help.”

Daisy leaned forward. “What kind of something?”

“I suggest that we set up an online crowdfunding account,” Lilah said.

After a ten-minute explanation of what exactly that was, with, oddly, George taking the lead and telling everyone how it worked, Arty pulled a face. “Sounds boring.”

“Sounds practical,” Ives said, looking at Lilah thoughtfully. “And it sounds like it could work. If we get the word out, if we tell people how much Blossom’s cafe matters, we can raise enough money to help.”

Gloria, who had strolled over from the bar with a glass of white wine in her hand at some point, snorted. “It’s still boring,” she said. “And everything deserves a party.”

“Ooo, a party,” squealed Daisy.

“People don’t like just handing over money,” Gloria said. “But they’ll happily buy a drink and throw in a donation if they’re having a good time. We should launch the fundraiser with a surprise party at the cafe.”

“She’s right,” Ives said after a pause. “It’d help people know what we’re doing.”

Lilah hesitated. “I’m not sure about that. I don’t know that Blossom’s big on surprises.”

“She’s not,” agreed Ives. “But this is for her own benefit, and you know what she’s like, if she knew what we’re up to she’d try and stop us, she wouldn’t want to make a fuss.”

Daisy waved a dismissive hand. “She’ll love it once she sees what we’re doing. ”

George nodded. “If she’s got a shot at keeping her cafe running, it’s worth it.”

Lilah exhaled. “Fine. A party. But we have to do it right.”

Mrs. Wilkins, who up until now had been silent, raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly do you propose we pull this off without Blossom knowing about it?”

“We’re going to steal her keys,” Lilah said, having already planned all this in her head.

“Lilah!” gasped Daisy.

“Oh, relax, I’ll put them back,” Lilah said. “I’ll sneak them from her bag when she’s not looking. Daisy, you can copy them at the hardware shop. Once that’s done, Arty and Gloria will take food and drinks into the cafe, and the rest of you can invite everyone.”

Mrs. Wilkins gave Lilah a long, scrutinizing look. “Are you sure you’re not one of those criminal masterminds?”

“Not professionally,” Lilah said, airily.

Daisy clapped her hands together. “This is going to be brilliant. So when do we do it?”

“Tomorrow night,” Ives said, looking at Lilah, who nodded. “That gives us enough time to get things sorted. Any longer and Blossom is sure to guess that something’s up.”

Gloria raised her glass. “To saving Blossom’s cafe.”

The others lifted their drinks in agreement, and Lilah sat back with a grin. This was going to work. It had to. Blossom needed the help.

BY THE TIME Lilah stepped out of the pub, the afternoon sun was casting warm, golden streaks across the quiet village street.

She stretched and rolled her shoulders. It had all gone well, much better than she’d expected.

The village was happy to come together to help.

And for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was doing something good, something that actually mattered.

She reached for her phone, half expecting to see a message from Blossom. A reminder of their night together, sweet teasing about what she’d been doing with her day. But when she pulled the device from her pocket, the screen was dark.

“Oh, crap,” she muttered. She remembered now, she’d turned it off that morning.

She held down the power button and watched the screen flicker to life. Then she saw the immense amounts of missed calls and the full voicemail. What the hell? Before she could do anything, the phone started vibrating in her hand. Margot.

Lilah groaned. She was tempted to turn the damn thing back off again. That was the problem with Margot, she just never let things go. With a sigh, she swiped to answer.

“Martin Leyland.” Just those two words. There was a pause, and then Margot said them again. “Martin Leyland.”

Lilah had frozen.

For a second, she thought that she’d misheard. But no. Margot’s voice was too sharp, too deliberate. Besides, she’d said the same thing twice. There was no chance of misunderstanding.

Her heart was hammering so loudly, she barely heard herself say, “What?”

“Martin Leyland,” Margot repeated for the third time. “Ring any bells?”

Bells? Lilah swallowed hard. Of course it rang bells.

Leyland was more than just a name. He was a legend, a visionary, a director who had shaped everything she loved about film.

The man whose movies she’d studied obsessively as a teenager, the man who had made her believe in the magic of storytelling, in the pure love and truth of the cinema. Martin Leyland.

“You’re joking,” she finally managed to choke out.

Margot’s smirk was practically audible. “Darling, I’d never joke about something like this.”

“It’s impossible,” Lilah said, shaking her head even though Margot couldn’t see, starting to un-freeze now. “He’s retired. He quit a decade ago. He’s done.”

“Well,” said Margot, voice light, “he’s un-retired. Un-quit. Un-done.”

Lilah sucked in a sharp breath. “What? ”

“You heard,” said Margot. “One last film. The project he’s been dreaming of for years. His magnum opus. And guess what?”

Lilah didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.

Margot filled in the silence. “He wants you, Lilah.”

Lilah’s stomach turned into a knot. The world felt suddenly unsteady beneath her feet.

This wasn’t just any role. This was Martin Leyland.

“I…” she started, then stopped. Her throat was dry.

Margot pressed her advantage. “It’s not just the kind of role that wins awards, Lilah. This is the kind of role that cements a legacy. You’d be mad to pass this up.”

Lilah clenched her jaw. Her mind was racing. This was it. Everything she’d ever wanted. This was the dream.

But then, another image came to her. Blossom. The way she had looked that morning, sleep-warm and beautiful, reaching for her in bed. The way her eyes had gone soft when Lilah teased her. The way she was going to defend her cafe, just because Lilah believed that she could.

“I have a life here,” Lilah said at last, her voice quieter than before.

Margot sighed dramatically. “This is Martin Leyland, Lilah. How many times do I have to say it?”

Lilah closed her eyes, swaying in the middle of the street. Margot was right, she knew she was right. And for the first time, she truly considered it. Leaving. Going back. Stepping onto a set again.

Finally, she exhaled. “I’ll think about it.” She didn’t know where the words had come from. They just sort of slipped out.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Margot said.

She hung up and Lilah stood in the middle of the street, staring down at her phone. She had no idea what she was going to do.