“Not at all, dear,” one of the women said knowingly before Vic could even finish. “We’ll all be over here doing our best to act natural while we eavesdrop on the both of you.”

“I’d expect nothing less, Esther,” Vic said as she motioned for Sophia to slide into the booth the bartender indicated. “I’m not supposed to play favourites when it comes to local businesses, but between you and me, I do. And this is it.”

“You do seem to have a following here.” Sophia arched an eyebrow over her drink. “I have to admit, when you mentioned sneaking around, I didn’t anticipate a public pub where we’d be recognized before we even got through the door.”

Vic reached across the table and covered Sophia’s hand with her own. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Perhaps I should’ve explained earlier.”

Sophia’s tension melted, both at the touch and the sincerity in those blue eyes. “It’s fine, I just…I guess we’ll deal with the fallout, whatever it may be, when it occurs.”

Vic shook her head. “There won’t be any fallout, at least not from anyone in this room.”

“I never pegged you for having lax standards around privacy.”

“I don’t,” Vic said seriously. “I’ve simply come to understand privacy as a complex proposition, and when given the choice between trying to achieve it through isolation or trust, I’d rather have the latter.”

Sophia glanced over her shoulder at the woman who’d openly admitted her intent to eavesdrop on their conversation. “And you trust these people?”

Vic didn’t even pause. “Unreservedly.”

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

“No. The book I’m writing now is a modern romance, and it’s just dreadful not to have all the frills of a period piece to hide behind,” Emma explained in a self-deprecating tone, but her blue eyes shone with a lightness that belied the good-natured gripe about her current writing project. “It’s about a famous musician who escapes to the country hoping to hide out after a press scandal, but all the locals are busybodies who interfere in her business and drag her into small-town life. Of course, there’s also a romance.”

“A bit autobiographical, then?” Vic asked, looking over Emma’s shoulder to see much of the Friday Club crew still firmly planted in their usual booth. She’d meant what she’d told Sophia. She trusted that none of them would ever admit to the press that the two of them had ever been in town, not even under the threat of torture, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t discuss it at length among themselves.

Emma rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far.”