Chapter 24

Jemima

Jemima looked up from her laptop. Though the Nostromo buzz had melded into a hypnotic hubbub, the pshhhp of the opening door grabbed her attention every time. Her phone pinged. She looked at the message.

Let me know when ur back. Could go for lunch? Mx

Bugger off, Miles, she grumbled, flipping her phone over.

Still feeling singed from her recent blunder with Chance, a man-blaze on two fronts was more than she could handle. It had been nearly a week since they’d taken that walk around the park. Since then she’d been in Nostromo practically every day but hadn’t seen him once. She shame-shuddered as she remembered the look on his face when she’d assumed he wanted a date and then rejected him. That wasn’t just throwing the baby out with the bath water. That was throwing out the bath.

All she wanted, in a very low key, no drama way, was to put things right but how could she if he’d disappeared. She could pop up to his practice but that felt like massive overkill. So here she had sat, all week, partly working, mainly waiting. Pshhhp. Jemima glanced at the door as a woman with a shopping trolley nudged it open. Typical. Now she wanted to see him, he was nowhere in sight. She just wanted to chat with him, absorb his energy, enjoy watching his face crack into a smile. She wanted to discuss her book with someone who got it and, yes, maybe she could do all that over dinner! Jemima gasped at what felt like such a huge, massive, confession – wanting to have dinner – with a man. Yes, she was ready to have Chance as a friend and perhaps even a confidante. Anxiety over her secret – those borrowed stories – was building by the day. She needed to talk to someone, even if it was just to quieten the guilty clamour inside her brain. She didn’t often talk about her writing with Meagan and Simi. After reading her first novel, Meagan’s note had been, too much insurance stuff. But as this novel now had so much of them in it, even if she’d wanted to – she couldn’t talk to them. The book was littered with stories from Meagan and Simi’s love lives and titbits of their personalities and Jemima still hadn’t asked their permission. Why couldn’t she just blurt it out? She grimaced, knowing exactly why… because she was terrified they’d say no. And then what? Heading to LA, leaving everything and everyone behind might become her only and best option. No, she was in so deep; the only way out was through. She had to speak to them. The deadline was just two weeks away. Her one saving grace was that she hadn’t used all the girls’ stories, drawing the line at Simi’s college exploits. Even though it would have worked brilliantly, it was a step too far. It was possible Meagan and Simi would appreciate that discretion at least. As she considered this, the door pshhhped opened. Jemima instantly recognised his curly brown hair and dipped down behind her laptop screen. The first time he saw her, she had to be engrossed in some moment of literary genius, not a melancholic daydreaming. She eavesdropped as he paid for his coffee and wrapped up his friendly banter with Rania. He wasn’t in scrubs today she noticed, but a casual shirt and jeans. Jemima decided her apology would be concise yet earnest then she would make a swift exit. She would leave talk of dinner to another day. As he approached, Jemima raised her hand to wave him over. At that precise moment, a woman behind her yelled, ‘Chance!’