Pressing her lips together, Ella tried to contain her emotion. Could she actually do this? Flynn was putting The Lakehouse in her hands, hoping that her idea was going to save the restaurant from going under. This was a huge ask. She didn’t know a thing about event management or putting acts on stage.

‘Do you think you could pull it off? We can talk to the TV crew tomorrow and try and get them involved?’

Ella was thinking fast on her feet; could she do this? She’d run her own business and organised sale evenings and special events in the shop to bring in the customers, but this was on another scale. But surely, she could just do what she did before and just magnify everything to the next level? Ella knew she had a natural affinity with Dolores, who would do anything to help make The Lakehouse succeed. She looked over at Callie again, who was still nodding and encouraging her every step of the way. ‘Say yes,’ she mouthed.

‘If Dolores is in agreement, then… yes!’

‘Fabulous, we can chat tomorrow at work.’ Flynn held his glass up towards Ella.

Callie mirrored his action. ‘Ella Johnson saves The Lakehouse.’

‘Ella Johnson saves The Lakehouse,’ repeated everyone else around the table.

‘No pressure,’ whispered Ella to Callie. ‘I can do this, can’t I?’

‘You can, and that’s because you’re absolutely fabulous,’ exclaimed Callie, bumping her shoulder against Ella’s.

Ella gave a broad grin. She felt honoured to have been given the chance, and already felt like part of the community of Heartcross. Ella wasn’t going to let Flynn down. If Dolores agreed, this was going to be the best night The Lakehouse had ever seen – she’d make sure of that.

Chapter Seven

Ella jolted awake from a nightmare where she was being chased by a lion with the head of Alex over the bridge into Heartcross. He was shouting at her to give him all of her money and although she was running as fast as she could, he was gaining on her. Feeling panicky, Ella wiped the sweat from her forehead and pulled at the neck of her pyjama top, allowing herself to breathe easier.

‘Damn you Alex, stop haunting me,’ she murmured, sitting up in bed. After calming her breathing she reached out for McCartney, who was curled up at her side. He’d slept on Ella’s bed for the second night and she was getting rather used to having him by her side.